No way, it’s your damn goat!I glare right back.
Laine clears her throat. “Um, Rachel? There’s something of mine in your car. I need to get it out real quick.”
One of Rachel’s eyebrows quirks as she heads for the driver’s door. “Like hell there is.”
“Please, Rachel, I’mtellingyou—”
“Look, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m not letting you root around in my car.” She opens the door, still shaking her head, and hoists herself inside. “Now, leave. The winery is not open to the public right now.” She aims that barb at Laine before slamming the door shut.
One second passes. Two. The ignition turns, then the car starts to pull out. My breath stutters in my chest. Doesn’t she realize there’s agoatin her back—
The brake lights blink on as the car lurches to a stop.
A scream.“WHAT the FUCK!”
The door opens and Rachel tears out of her fancy SUV, loud bleating behind her. Laine grabs the leash as the goat rips past, horns now aimed at Rachel’s ass. But Rachel doesn’t realize the suspect’s been apprehended, because she’s still running and screaming her head off, all the way to the road.
I press a hand to my mouth.
“You assholes!” Rachel screeches from thirty feet away. “You put awild animalin my car!”
“Not on purpose,” Laine says, which makes a single, wild laugh burst through my fingers. Laine’s chest rumbles once, her mouth quivering as it desperately wants to grin. I have to turn away, or I willlose it.
Rachel rage-stomps back to her SUV where the door’s still open, the engine idling. Her eyes grow wide. “My car!”
I peer in after her and grimace. Squashed bananas in the back seat, a distinctly chewed headrest, the overalleau de goatlingering in the air …
She wheels on us, her face a riot of fury. “I’m calling the police!” She squeezes both hands into fists.
“Oh my GOD!” I exhale another laugh, my blood heating. “You left your trunk open, and the goat climbed in! It was an accident!” I fold my arms over my bathrobe. “Or karma, can’t rule that out.”
Rachel’s eyes flare wide before narrowing, and she steps forward. “You just can’t handle that Mayor Esposito has endorsed Into the Woods over your crappy vineyard, you jealous, littlebitch.”
“Rachel.” Laine steps in front of me. “You need to stop talking to her like that,right now. Do you understand me?”
Rachel barks out a small, hard laugh, and like the minutes before a storm, the air is thick with vicious current. “Oh, I see.” She flicks a finger up and down at my skimpy bathrobe, then at Laine’s messy appearance. “The Hayseed Vintner and Lady Wine Cooler, rolling around in the barn when you’re not making shit wine. What a match!” She turns those heartless eyes on me. “Just like you always wanted,eh, Zoe? Still got that box of yours?” Her teeth glisten through her sneer.
My heart threatens to stop beating altogether. “Rachel, shut up.”
“You even tried to fuck our brother just to,what, squint your eyes and pretend you were really with Charlaine?”
“Stop it,” Laine snaps.
“No, really, I’m happy for you both! It took Laine imploding her entire career out west before she’d look at you, but it’s all working out!” She flings a hand at Laine. “Now you’re working minimum wage at the illustrious Bluebell Vineyards, but hey, at least you get to fuck your boss while you shake down your family, right?”
I suck in a breath. What about Le Jardin? I search Laine’s eyes for confirmation, but they dull and deaden on the spot.
A burst of furyengulfsme. Good thing the river’s miles away because I have the sudden urge to throw Rachel into it.
“Come on, Laine.” I tug at her arm, and after a second, her body complies. The goat trots willingly behind her.
“You may’ve fooled Mom and Dad, but I see you plain as day, Charlaine!” Rachel yells at our backs, still desperate to wound. “All you do istake, but I’m not giving you shit! D’YOU HEAR ME?!”
Laine hands me the truck’s keys without meeting my eyes. “I’ll walk him home.” Before I can protest, she disappears down the road, the goat trailing beside her. I want to yell after her to come back, that Rachel’s stupid, and for some reason, that everything’s going to be okay.
But Laine Woods doesn’t need my comfort.
Does she?
