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Whitt and Harley were another story. Whitt hadn’t wanted him to try to talk to us. Harley had actually been the one to discover we existed. She was an upcoming senior in high school and a bit of a genius. She’d pieced together our existence, but she was dealing with the rage of being right. It’d take time.
Then we’d had to tell Mom. She’d taken it better than I had. She hadn’t been surprised even, just disappointed, and had gone to bed early. I hated it for her, but it was what it was.
“Wright, come the fuck on. We have work to do,” Hollin said impatiently.
I took a deep breath. “We didn’t get the distribution contract.”
“Ugh, okay,” Hollin said.
Alejandra lazily dropped her head sideways to look at Hollin. She held her hand out. “Pony up, Abbey.”
“Fuck,” he grumbled. He dug out his wallet and dropped a twenty into her hand.
I looked between them. “What is going on?”
“Oh, we never thought you’d get it,” Alejandra said.
“I did!” Hollin said.
“Pobrecito,” she crooned, patting his cheek. Poor baby.
“Wait, what? If you didn’t think that I was going to get it, why were we going for it? Why did I just stress myself out for weeks?”
“Like, normal people can’t get that their first year open,” Hollin said. But he gestured to me. “But you’re a Wright. If anyone could do it, you could.”
“Yeah. You have contacts and currency,” Alejandra explained.
“But, hey,” Hollin said, coming to his feet, “this means, you’re just like everyone else.”
“And I’m twenty bucks richer,” Alejandra said. “So, thanks for that.”
They headed out of my office, ribbing each other over the bet. Meanwhile, I was stuck in my seat. I’d worked so hard for this, only to find out it was basically impossible. But they had been right on some level, too, weren’t they? I could have gotten the contract. If I’d played Ashleigh’s game, then Alejandra would have paid up to Hollin. I did have the contacts and currency. But it was still frustrating.
Hollin popped his head back inside. “Hey, how are you holding up?”
I shrugged. “It’s been a rough week.”
“You and Jennifer?”
I shook my head. “She hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts.”
“Bummer.”
“Yeah, I guess I earned it.”
“You think?” Hollin asked, flopping back into the seat and kicking his boots up onto my desk. “What makes you say that?”
“I went to Ashleigh about the distribution issue and hid it from…everyone.”
Hollin whistled. “Well, fuck.”
“She was going to fix it, too. You were probably right that I could have gotten it.”
“Damn. But you’d have sacrificed your dignity in the meantime. And Jennifer, who we all know you’re head over heels for.”
“I am,” I agreed with a sigh.
“And anyway, you know Ashleigh sabotaged the deal in the first place to make you come to her. Isn’t that her MO?”
“Yeah. She didn’t admit to that, but yeah, I got so caught up that I didn’t see it.”
“That’s why you need to come to me, bro.” Hollin patted his chest with his tatted arm and grinned. “I’ll keep you on the straight and narrow.”
I laughed. “Why do I feel like straight and narrow doesn’t mean the same thing to you as it does to me?”
“Eh,” he said with a shrug. “So, how are you going to win Jennifer back? I have some big ideas.”
“Oh God, do I even want to know?”
Hollin grinned wolfishly. “It’ll make a splash at least.”
“Nah, I think I’ll give her some time. We have to work together still, especially since we got the contract for Morgan and Patrick’s wedding.”
“For reals?” he asked. “They’re getting married here?”
“Yeah. Nora had them sign the paperwork. A Wright wedding with the Wright CEO at a Wright Vineyard.”
“Y’all are fucking obsessed with your name. It’s a little weird.”
I snorted at him. “Says the guy who insisted we use it.”
“Yeah, because we need money, and people associate y’all with money. But we’re serving Abbey wine because I know what I’m fucking doing.”
“So true,” I said with a shake of my head. “But if she doesn’t return my messages by this weekend, I’ll go to her place, try to grovel.”
“Good idea. Buy flowers. Girls love that shit.”
“How would you even know with a three-date rule?”
He scoffed. “I told you, that’s not what it fucking is.”
I chuckled, and it felt good to laugh a little with Hollin. That the world wasn’t ending even though this weekend had been shit. I needed to figure out how to approach Jennifer. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her go.
Hollin’s phone rang noisily in the office. “It’s my dad.” He answered, “Sup?” Then he straightened up, dropping his boots to the ground. “What happened? Yeah, I’m with Julian now. Let me put you on speaker.”
I glanced at him as he put the phone down on my desk on speakerphone.
“Hey, Julian. It’s Uncle Gregg.”
“What’s going on?”
“I just got off the phone with your aunt Lori. She’s with your mom, and she had a fall. She passed out, and they took her by ambulance to the hospital.”
