Page 25 of Midlife Do Over


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Left alone, again, with Ryan, we had no choice now but to talk. “How many white wines do you want to test?”

Ryan nodded and picked up the order form. “I think a box of each of the ones we like should be perfect for a test run, don’t you?”

“This place is close enough that we can place another order quickly if we sell out soon. I think the merlot would be great for the bachelor party coming up.”

“Red wine is never difficult to sell, and this stuff is particularly good.”

“I agree, and I think the organic labeling will appeal to a younger customer base with money to spend.”

Ryan’s smile was filled with an emotion that shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t light his hazel eyes the way they did. “Always with work on your mind, huh?”

“That’s why we’re here, is it not?”

“Of course, but aren’t we just tipsy enough to remember how much we used to like being around one another?”

Yes, absolutely. “No. Not quite that tipsy.”

He laughed. “Then let’s try a bit more of this Cabernet, I hear it’s excellent for relieving anxiety.”

“I’m anxiety-free, thank you very much.” Still, I accepted the topped up glass with a gentle smile. “You want to talk? Tell me why you opened a restaurant.”

My question surprised him, and in true Ryan style, he took his time before answering. “I needed to invest in something, and I wanted something that was just for me. Something that wasn’t a Gregory Brothers thing. Does that make sense, or do I sound like a selfish prick?”

“Not selfish, no. You’ve been living and working and touring with your brothers for plenty of years, Ryan. It doesn’t make you selfish to want something that is just for you.”

His shoulders relaxed at my words. “Then why do I feel like a traitor?”

“Because you love your brothers, and you feel guilty. I’m guessing they told you that your guilt was unwarranted?” He nodded. “So why do you insist on wallowing in it?”

“Old habit, I guess.” Ryan leaned forward and poured more into both glasses. “I want to succeed at something without them. To know that it isn’t just the magic of us that caused our success. Roman is going to record a solo album during the break.”

“Really? That’s exciting. Are you upset?”

“Hell no,” he answered quickly and took a few sips from his glass. “I’m proud of him. He wants me to write a few songs for him.”

“You’re proud of that.” It wasn’t a question, his chest puffed out a little and his shoulders seemed to expand a little wider as he spoke.

“I am. He asked me because he thinks I’m a great song writer and lyricist. That he recognizes my talent, it means something to me.”

Dammit, I didn’t want to like Ryan again, and I certainly didn’t want to sympathize with him. And I would never, ever reveal that I’d listened to a few of his songs on a loop on and off over the years.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” A loud crack of thunder tore through the air outside, rumbling the building so hard I thought it might crumble around us. “Sounds like rain.”

Thunder and rain in these parts could be nothing, or it could turn into a five-day long storm. “We should get on the road if we’re going to get back before the sun comes up.”

“No can do, Pip. I need at least,” he glanced down at his watch and whistled. “Forty-five minutes before I’m good to drive. This wine has gone straight to my head.”

I glared at him. Hard. “I’m fine to drive.”

His brows dipped low. “You can drive a manual these days?”

No. “Some.”

“Not good enough, sweetheart. No one drives my truck but me, especially someone who can’t handle a stick shift.”

I wanted to call him every name in the book but I was an adult now, a grown woman capable of keeping her emotions in check. “Fine.”

Like she had some kind of radar, Trixie appeared, looking unconcerned about the weather raging around the vineyard. “There’s a motel a few miles away if you prefer, but we do have rooms available. We offer them up for all kinds of events.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I assured her. “As soon as the rain lets up and Ryan is okay to drive, we’re going to make our way back home.” As if the universe had the cruelest sense of humor, a flash of lightning lit up the dining room, another loud roar of thunder sounded, and then the sky opened up. The downpour crashed down against the ceiling and the windows on all sides.

“Could be a few hours,” Tucker offered. “You’re welcome to wait it out here, but the dining room closes at nine.”

I could feel Ryan’s smile before I looked across the table at him, all smug and satisfied like he’d won some prize. “Let’s just stay here, Pippa.”

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