“No more buts. I’m assigning this to you. Not as your dad, but as your boss.” He waves his hand, shooing me away. “Now scoot and get to work.”
I guess that’s the end of that conversation.
After leaving my dad’s office, I skim through the archives he sent me, but it’s hard to focus. Last week, I was jobless and crying myself to sleep, and now, I’ve gotten this huge project, which I’m not qualified for, dumped on my lap.
I take a break from looking through old versions ofThe Vineand redirect my attention to actually trying to learn how to do some basic tasks. With the help of Suzy, I spend the better part of the day getting trained on the writing system theHeralduses and how to navigate the portal. It all seemspretty cutand dry, but it’snice chatting with her and learning more about the rest of the staff and little tidbits about the town. I also end up word vomiting my doubts about writing a decent article when my subject isn’t likely to be a willing participant.
“Welcome to being a journalist,” Suzy says. “Unless it’s a fluff piece or something sports related, most people don’t want anything to do with being featured in thePaper. Heck, I’m noteven sure they read it. I think they prefer to get their news through the gossip mill.” She laughs at her own joke, and I give her a polite chuckle, distracted by my own thoughts.
If Suzy is willing to divulge as much information as she already has, I may as well take advantage of it. “What can you tell me about the Ledgers?”
“How much time do you have?” she jests. “If Red Mountain had a royal family, it would be the Ledgers. They’re one of the founding families.”
“Founding families?”
“Yes, as in, they founded the town. The Ledgers and the Bentons.”
Small town lore at its finest. “The Bentons own a winery, too, right?”
She nods. “They sure do. Big competitors, those two.”
I snort. “You make it sound like the Hatfields and McCoys.”
She shakes her head, rejecting the notion. “Oh, no. It’s not nearly as dramatic as that mess. Business competitors sure, but they’re cordial. Jack Ledger and Bill Benton are co-chairs of the Red Mountain Vintners Association. Around here, if one winery is doing well, it’s good for everyone. It ups the local tourism and keeps pockets lined. All in all, everyone wants success for one another.”
“That’s kind of sweet actually.”
Her head tilts, an easy smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “We’re a community. I don’t know how things are in Seattle, but the traffic alone would turn me into a raging bitch.”
Hearing a curse word slip from the proper-looking woman has me stifling a laugh.
“Anyway,” she continues. “The Ledgers are the backbone of this town. Jack would do the interview without question. Ethan on the other hand”—she huffs a laugh— “good luck with that.”
If she meant to give me a confidence boost, she did the opposite.
“I take it Ethan has a reputation?”
She rests her chin in her palm, looking to ponder the question. “I wouldn’t say reputation. He comes off as abrasive at times, but I think he’s more shy than anything.”
I give a dismissive scoff. “Ethan? Shy?”
“Well, sure,” she defends. “Doesn’t talk much, keeps to himself, looks like a deer caught in the headlights when you try to engage him in conversation. Sounds shy to me.”
I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way. Maybe he is shy. And clearly suffers from anxiety, something he seems to not want others to know about. I’m still pissed about his man tantrum, though. A tad overdramatic, if you ask me.
“But who knows?” she continues. “Maybe he’s changed. He only recently moved back. A few years ago, he left. That’s a story all its own, though.”
Well, now I want to know the story, but I can tell Suzy isn’t going to spill. I guess that explains why he’s staying in a vacation cottage instead of a more permanent home. But it doesn’t explain why he left and then moved back. And why do I care? It’s not as if finding out some tragic story—if it even is tragic—would be reason enough to explain why he acts the way he does.
“You know,” Suzy says. “I bet if you flashed Ethan a smile or two, he’d definitely be willing to sit down with you for an interview.”
I laugh. “I’m not too sure about that.” I’ve already tried that, and it didn’t work.
She lifts her shoulders, offering me an encouraging smile. “There are so many different avenues you can take to make a source feel relaxed and comfortable to speak with a reporter. You need to find what works best for Ethan. Maybe dosomething nice for him. Even the prickliest of men can appreciate a sweet treat.”
CHAPTER 14
Marisa
