CHAPTER ONE
It’s eight a.m. on a brisk March morning, and there’s a man in my mouth.
Anannoyingone.
“Open wide for me, baby. You can take it.”
“Teddy.” I growl around the mouthful of metal and cotton he’s loaded into my face, then gag as something pointy hits my tonsils.
“Come on now, Zoe!” Teddy’s futuristic dentist spectacles flash as he roots around inside my face like it’s the junk drawer, and he’s hunting for the last triple A battery. “I know you lesbians don’t have a lot of practice, but surely you can open wider thanthat. Think boa constrictors. Unhinged jaws.”
There are downsides to being best friends with your inappropriate gay dentist.
This is one of them.
After Teddy retrieves the last of his clanking oral probes from my mouth, he picks up my chart and frowns, vigorously drawing several large circles on various teeth in the diagram.
I arch an eyebrow. I can see where this is going a mile away.
“Bad news,” Teddy says gravely. “Some of these cavities are so deep, they’re forming a tunnel network. Have you ever heard of fistulas?” He swats his hand at me, likenever you mind, and gets up and opens the door. “George? Prepare the shots! We’re going to need themall!”
Teddy’s hygienist materializes in the doorway like a ghoul, eyes delighted, gripping a large metal tray cluttered with needles.
I remove the wad of wet cotton from my mouth and smile politely. “That won’t be necessary, George. Thank you.”
Teddy’s theatrical frown turns genuine. “You’re no fun, Zoe Brennan. You know that? Allwell-adjustedandcalm.”
I get the feeling I’m supposed to be insulted.
George’s face falls as he realizes the shots aren’t needed after all. I watch him shuffle back to his station from the corner of my eye. “You ever worry about George?”
“He brings a certain unhealthy enthusiasm for the job, yes,” Teddy says simply, his back turned to prepare the next round of tortures.
“So what’s this ‘red-hot emergency business meeting’ I had to drop everything and come in for?” That’s usually Teddy’s code for fresh gossip, but every now and then, he legitimately wants to talk business. As the go-to lender for my family’s vineyard, Teddy considers himself my “silent partner,” which is hilarious because nothing about Teddy is silent.
Teddy swings back around with a set of whitening trays and a suspiciously innocent face. “You mean other than your red teeth, you unrepentant vampire?” He butts the upper tray against my mouth, and I reluctantly open wide enough for him to shove it in. Is this what blow jobs are like?
“You’re lucky I got a shipment of the good bleach in.” Hetsks and jams the lower tray in next.
“Pitfalls ah running a winn-yer,” I say as dignified as I can around the two trays. “’inking wine ih my yob.”
“That’s funny, I could’ve swornmakingwine was your job.”
“Same ’hing. Now ’pill it.” I give him my bestdon’t fuck aroundlook, but I’m still wearing those giant black safety glasses and drooling, so it’s less effective than usual.
“Mayor Esposito’s aide was in yesterday—Elisa?” he says with feigned nonchalance. “You know the girl. Class one malocclusion? Well, shementioned that theBon Vivanthas chosen to host their annual wine festival in Blue Ridge this year.”
Even Teddy’s reflexes can’t stop the trays from shooting out of my mouth. “Everyday Bon Vivant?!”
“Ms. Brennan, this is expensive bleach. You want me to charge your ass double?”
“TEDDY!Tell me everything!” I rip the black safety glasses off.
The grin spreading beneath his dental specs is positively evil. “Not so calm now, are you?”
I blink against the chair’s overhead spotlight, head spinning.Everyday Bon Vivantistheword on exemplary—but accessible—wine. I’ve gone to their traveling annual festival a few times, whenever our vineyard can afford to send me, and it’s always an amazing time. It draws thousands of visitors from around the world for three blissful days of eating, drinking, and fun events, and when it’s over, the area picked to host is officially on the map. As a small wine-producing region, Blue Ridge can’t compete with Napa and Sonoma; wine connoisseurs don’t even know we exist. But if it hostsEveryday Bon Vivant, it would change everything—for our wine scene, our town, and especially for the lucky vineyard chosen to host the opening showcase.
“When?”
