Drunk on Love

And he’d done this to himself, all because of that job?

“Lauren, we really should get you home,” Pete said.

His mom sighed.

“I know.” She leaned over and gave Luke a hug. “Thanks again, Luke. I don’t know what I’d do without you. On sabbatical from your big-time job and you jump in to help your mom. How did I get this lucky?”

Luke gave her a tight squeeze.

“Just get home and get some rest.” He looked up at Pete. “Let me know if I can bring over anything, okay?”

Pete nodded.

“Will do.”

Luke watched them walk out, his mind still on everything his mom had said. On sabbatical from his big-time job. Right. He had to do something to end this farce. And plus, he had to see if this whole thing about interviewing for Brian’s job was for real.

He pulled out his phone.

    LUKE

Hey Craig—I’d love to chat. Let me know when is good for you.





* * *





SYDNEY CAME BY THE winery the Friday before the party, ostensibly to see what the Barrel’s setup would be, but Margot knew it was really to give her some last-minute help. She was grateful for it—all of the folding tables and chairs had been delivered the day before and were stacked in the barn, but she wanted to get everything else they needed over there before the end of the day. Thankfully, Taylor and Daisy had everything covered in the tasting room, and she could throw herself into party details.

“Charlie wanted to come today but couldn’t,” Sydney said when they walked out to the lawn, boxes full of wineglasses in their arms. “But they told me to make sure that we have a table out of the direct sun. You know how pale they are.”

Margot laughed.

“I do, but no need to worry, we rented shade umbrellas for that reason. I didn’t want anyone getting heatstroke at our party; that would be a nightmare.”

Sydney shuddered.

“You’d lose it.” She looked around the grounds. “It all looks great back here. I’m really impressed at how much you got done in such a short time.”

Margot looked around, too. Everything was green and flowering and fragrant. It looked just how she’d wanted.

“I know. I’m really pleased with it. Pete and his team did all of the hard work. And Elliot made the planter boxes.” She grinned. “I just told everyone what to do.”

Sydney patted her on the shoulder.

“Well, you’re very good at that.”

Margot brought her into the barn, and they set the wineglasses on a table just inside. Margot looked around, but Elliot wasn’t there. Even so, she beckoned Sydney back outside before she said anything else.

“I’m sure my brother is about to explode with how I’ve taken over part of his domain here for this party that he didn’t even want to have, so I’m trying to keep things organized in there.”

Sydney waved that away.

“He’ll be fine. Is he going to behave tomorrow?”

Margot sighed.

“I hope so.” She really wanted to check in with him and ask him to please be nice to people tomorrow, but she had a feeling it would backfire if she did. She’d barely seen Elliot in the last week, but he’d been around last night when all of the supplies had gotten delivered, and had helped them get everything into the barn.

Margot gestured to the corner of the lawn.

“I have you in the corner there. We’ll keep this path clear, and have the food all along the far edge of the square, so there will be space in the middle for people to eat and drink and mingle. The wine stations will be right by the barn, partly for flow, partly because then it’s easiest for us to restock.” She turned to Sydney. “I’ll bring you into my office—I have a whole sketch of the setup on the wall, along with all of my other plans. My staff makes fun of me for it.”

“I definitely want to see this, and I will definitely make fun of you for it, too,” Sydney said. “But when you said your staff makes fun of you for it, you had that little smile on your face. Don’t you mean your former staff, your current—”

Margot tried to hide her smile, but she couldn’t.

“Yes, fine, okay, I meant him, too, but the rest of them also make fun of me for it.”

Sydney raised her eyebrows at her.

“Is he coming to the party tomorrow?”

Margot nodded.

“Yeah, he’ll be here.” She would have been so sad if Luke wasn’t going to be there. She’d been working on this so hard, it would have felt awful for him to miss it.

Sydney gestured back toward the winery building.

“Do any of them know about the two of you?”

Margot shook her head.

“No. I’m sure Elliot would think that I pounced on our employee as soon as he was out the door. Or worse.” To be fair, Luke had technically done the pouncing, but she’d basically dragged him into her house when he’d shown up at her door. “I’ll have to tell him eventually.”

Sydney shrugged.

“How often do you tell your brother about guys you’re just sleeping with, anyway? This thing between you and Luke is no big deal, right?”

Margot didn’t say anything, and Sydney grinned at her.

“Unless you’re not just sleeping with him? You didn’t answer that other question I asked. Your current . . . what, exactly?”

Margot could feel that smile on her face again.

“I . . . We haven’t exactly put a title on that, but fine, I’m not just sleeping with him.”

Sydney cackled.

“Finally, she admits it! What happened to ‘I don’t know if I can trust him’ and ‘It’s not serious,’ hmmmm?”

“Well, that was all bullshit, but you knew that already,” Margot said. “It’s only been a few weeks, though. I shouldn’t get in too deep. But . . .”

Sydney threw an arm around Margot.

“But you did anyway. You’re happy. I’m glad. Just as long as he knows that if he hurts you, I’ll destroy him.”

Margot laughed.

“Oh, don’t worry, he knows.” She turned Sydney back toward the winery building. “Come on, let’s go get more wineglasses.”





Twenty


MARGOT TOLD LUKE NOT to stay over the night before the party. She knew she wanted to be up and at the winery super early that morning. She’d set her alarm for six, but she woke up at five and decided to just go with it. She was the first person at the winery that day, for maybe the first time ever. Either even Elliot usually wasn’t there before six a.m., or he didn’t care enough about the party to get there early.

She walked in and started the coffeemaker in the kitchen, and then, with a full cup of coffee in her hand and her coziest sweater on, she stared at her conspiracy wall. Maybe if she looked at it hard enough, all of her plans would work out just as she wanted them to.

She felt silly for being so obsessive, so stressed, about this party. Lots of wineries did parties like this for their anniversaries, for their wine clubs, etc. Some people she’d talked to seemed so casual about them—oh yeah, there was food, people came, drank some wine, no big deal.

But this was the first time that Noble Family Vineyards had ever thrown itself a party, and it had to be perfect.

Thank God she’d put make coffee on her to-do list. It felt good to check something off by six a.m.

From there, she took a deep breath and started going. She checked for any last-minute RSVPs, made sure the spreadsheet had autopopulated with them like it was supposed to, and made sign-in sheets for the people who would just show up. She’d counted the linens and glasses and chairs three times the day before to make sure they had the right number. She didn’t need to double-check on the wine. Did she? No, no, they’d all gotten it ready and waiting over in the temperature-controlled area of the barn the day before.

Five minutes later, on her way out of the winery building, she ran, almost literally, into Elliot.

“Oh! Hi, good morning,” she said. “I was just . . .”

He smiled at her.

“Going to double-check on something? The tables? The chairs? The wine? The in-case-of-rain tents?”

She laughed.

“I did not rent in-case-of-rain tents, even I wasn’t that pessimistic—or, I guess, depending on your thoughts on the drought, optimistic. Those are umbrellas for shade, Elliot! It’s going to be in the nineties today!”

He fell into step next to her.

“So?”

She sighed.

“Fine, yes, I was going to check the wine. Just to make sure we have enough of each kind—I don’t want to make anyone have to go running around to get it during the party! Plus, I couldn’t remember if I’d increased the amount of rosé we should have on hand—it’s going to be hot, you know everyone wants rosé when it’s hot.”

He put his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m not going to stop you from double-checking. But I was there last night, too, remember. You consulted that list like a drill sergeant as we got all of the wine in the right locations, and I absolutely heard you tell Taylor you’d upped the amount of rosé to put in the fridges. I’ll come with you to check, but have a muffin first? You’ve probably had a lot of coffee already; you need something else in your system.”

He took a muffin out of the shoebox he was carrying and handed it to her.

“It’s still warm,” she said. “Where did you get these?”

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