Page 29 of Christmas in Vines

“Do the right thing, call Clarkston back, apologize for Dad’s fuck up and try to make some kind of connection with him. I know we all made fun of them, but I think it’s time we passed those prejudices and got all three of us into a decent collaboration.”

Again, Ethan was scarily silent. “Where did you get all this from?”

“Can you do it or not?” I asked, decidedly ignoring his question.

“I can,” he replied. “I just want to know how you came upon these nuggets of information.”

“Just do it,” I told him, thankfully for the win. “I’ll explain someday, but not… not now, okay. Call me or text me on what you find.”

Once again, Ethan paused. “If you’re in trouble—”

“I’m not,” I huffed. “Jesus. I don’t go around fucking shit up, Ethan. Well, not this time, and I don’t need you riding in on your white horse to save me. Just do what I asked and reach out to Clarkston. It’s long overdue.”

We said goodbyes, and I shoved my cell into my pocket, then tilted my head back on the wall behind me and knocked it on the cold wall three times. I heard the crunch of boots on the snow around me and looked to my side as Willow approached. She didn’t look too hot.

“You okay?” I asked.

She gave me a wry smile. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I didn’t eavesdrop, but I heard the tail end of your conversation.”

“Yeah,” I raked a hand through my hair. “It's my brother. He’s got this…knight in shining armor hero complex that prompts him to ask me if I’ve screwed up. If I said yes, he would be charging in, guns blazing.”

Willow rested her hands on my waist. “Seemed like you learned from the best.”

She was talking about that night. “So, why are you upset?”

“My dad and I had a meeting with Maxwell and his father,” she replied. “He switched it up on us and increased the buy-in amount so he could get thirteen percent managerial shares.”

“Preferred shares,” I echoed.

Willow nodded. “That’s the proper term. How’d you know that?”

“I spun the pages of a business textbook in college,” I shrugged, hoping to play it off with a nonchalant shrug. “Some things stuck, some didn’t.”

She came closer and looped her arms around my neck while my hand dropped to her hips. “Are you sure you’re not just playing dumb?” she teased. “I can see an insidious genius behind those big bright eyes of yours.”

“Insidious,” I parroted. “That’s a lot of praise. Flattery will get you nowhere, missy.”

Rolling her eyes while her lips curved, she sassed, “And you’re not getting out of the tree chopping this afternoon.”

“Afternoon?”

“I got you a pass,” she said, stepping away, brows up. “You do know I’m the boss, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I grinned. “Aren’t you a bit concerned, though? The other guys might see me getting preferential treatment and turn into dickheads on me.”

“Are they naturally dickheads?”

“One of them is,” I replied.

She slapped my arm. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got thick skin. Meet at the back gate, two pm sharp.”

Rubbing said arm, I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

I didn’t expect to see Willow behind the wheel of a 4x4, impatiently drumming her fingertips on the wheel. I stopped short.

“Are you sure you can handle this big piece of machinery?” I teased.

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