“She’s a good worker,” Maverick said. “And I think those women at the bar just proved that people come back here because of her.”
“I love her,” Nora said in a quiet voice, not wanting Lark to overhear them. “She really is one of the best employees we’ve ever had. She’s just so scatterbrained sometimes. When she’s here and working, she’s balls to the wall. The problem is her time management.”
“Or discipline,” Grayson said.
Maverick shook his head. “Not everyone does everything strictly by the book, like you, Gray.”
“You’ve been too soft on her,” Grayson said to Nora, ignoring his brother. “Not everything can be solved with charm.”
Maverick frowned. “Wait. What? That’s not a thing, is it?” he asked, faking concern. “Because that’s been my schtick forever and I swear it’s working.”
Nora cracked up, and even Grayson found himself fighting not to smile. Maverick was right. There was very little he couldn’t fix with his charm and humor.
“Grayson’s problem is, he thinks everything can be solved with rules,” Maverick countered.
“Rules work.”
“People aren’t spreadsheets,” Nora retorted. “More’s the pity.”
The three of them chuckled. Not because Nora disliked people. In truth, all four of Grayson’s female cousins were a lot like Lark, lively, sociable, nice. Nora’s joke stemmed from her undying love for organization, and it came in all forms. Spreadsheets, color-coded labels, pristine filing cabinets, so he didn’t doubt for a second that it made Nora’s brain itch every time Lark fucked with the schedule.
“Why is she always swapping shifts?” Maverick asked.
“It’s Lark,” Nora replied, as if that should explain it all. “She’s traded shifts three other times in the last month because she forgot to request those dates off before I set the schedule. Honestly, if the employees let me know when they have something going on, I do my hardest to schedule the time off for them. Lark never remembers to tell me when she’s made plans.”
“What sort of plans is she making all the time?” Grayson asked, curious. It’s not like Gracemont was having raves every other day. It was a sleepy town, so he couldn’t figure out how Lark stayed so busy. Of course, he also couldn’t understand why she would want to. His ideal night involved his recliner in the living room, a cold beer beside him, and either a movie on TV or a brother sitting by his side, playing Call of Duty with him.
“She went to two concerts, and the other switch, she went to see her little sister, Piper, in her middle school play. Piper had the lead, so it was sort of a big deal,” Nora added, as if that made a difference.
“Thought she wanted the full-time work because she was trying to move out of her parents’ house. Not sure how she plans to do that if she blows all her money on concerts,” Grayson pointed out, not sure why he was being so hard on Lark. Like his family, he liked the woman too. Except for the fact that she talked too loud. And too much.
Nora grinned. “That’s the thing about Lark. Everyone loves her because she’s the queen of fun and so freaking nice. She didn’t buy the tickets for either show. She was invited to go with friends who treated. Everyone in town has heard her sing and knows that music is basically her life, so they include her when they have extra tickets to concerts. She missed one shift last month because Edith Millholland had an extra ticket to some John Prine celebration at Wolf Trap. She invited Lark because Edith loves it when she sings “Angel from Montgomery” for her. I couldn’t exactly tell Lark she couldn’t go, since it was Edith.”
Okay, fine. Grayson understood that. Edith was a force of nature, so if she wanted Lark to go with her, she was going. Plus, they all loved Edith too much to ever say no to the woman.
“Thought ‘Angel from Montgomery’ was a Bonnie Raitt song,” Maverick mused.
“John Prine wrote it and recorded it first,” Nora answered.
The fact they were having this conversation proved how much Lark had educated his family about music. Lark’s repertoire was vast, covering everything from oldies to classic rock to Taylor Swift. She was a walking encyclopedia, and there weren’t too many patron requests she couldn’t honor. One of the reasons her performances at the winery and brewery were so popular was due to her habit of introducing every song she was about to perform with some cool fact about the singer, songwriter, or lyrics.
Another burst of loud laughter filled the room. Lark was in full swing, gesturing wildly and pouring samples with a flourish that bordered on theatrical. Several other customers had joined the three women at the bar, joining in on the tasting.
“She’ll be great at the festival,” Maverick said.
“Explain how chaos is great.” Grayson refused to give his brother an inch—even if he was right—because if he did, the asshole would take a mile.
“You’ll be a good balance for each other,” Nora added, though like his brother, she looked far too amused by the prospect of sending Grayson out into the wild with Lark McCoy.
“Doubtful,” Grayson muttered, shooting dark looks across the room. “More likely she’ll drive me insane.”
Maverick lightly tapped the table twice, drawing Grayson’s scowl away from Lark and back to him. “You need to loosen up, bro. Feels like you’ve forgotten how to have fun lately.”
Grayson wasn’t sure how to reply to that…because he was afraid his brother was right. He wasn’t sure when he’d morphed from a good-natured young man to this twenty-nine-going-on-eighty, stay-off-my-lawn grumpy bastard.
“I know how to have fun,” Grayson countered, the words feeling like a lie.
Maverick didn’t argue.
