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He shifted from one foot to the other, not because he was buying time, but because my son could not stand still for more than two seconds. “Because they can get scared and possibly hurt Sally.”
“Exactly. Is Sally okay?”
He nodded, his mess of brown waves flopping with the movement. He reached into the big front pocket of his navy-blue hoodie and pulled out Sally. He held her up, her little claws curling around his finger. “You’re okay, right Sally?” He tilted his head and stared at Sally. “She’s okay.”
I closed my eyes, searching for strength. The building pressure wreaking havoc on my sanity eased. “Go put Sally in her tank and make sure the lid is on right.” Sally had proven to be Houdini in bearded dragon form.
His whole body shook with his nod, and he took off up the stairs.
“What have I told you about running in the house?”
“Sorry, Dad!” His voice trailed after him.
I texted my brother, Rhone, my assistant at the vineyard, and told him I would be back soon. We needed to finish getting ready for the viticulture internship program tomorrow—a program my grandfather started thirty years ago. There was no way in hell I was going to let a slight inconvenience mess with the program. It was my own way of honoring the legacy that was my grandfather.
Our entire family owed our livelihood to that man. He left Italy with a single grapevine and helped create a multi-million-dollar wine empire. I was walking in his shoes now, and I felt the weight of it all.
Hopefully, I could drop Gio off in my older brother Laurent’s office for a bit. If not, maybe my sister, Chardonnay, could keep an eye on him while I finished up for the day.
My parents might be traveling across Europe, but my siblings were still here, and they always had my back.
“Gio, let’s go!”
Gio came to a running stop at the top of the stairs. “Where are we going?”
“I have to get to work, and you’re going to hang out with your Uncle Laurent.”
Gio fist pumped the air, then took off toward his room.
“Where are you going?”
He came back, holding the board game Battleship. Laurent and Gio had been going back and forth with rematches for the last month and a half.
Laurent wouldn’t be able to turn down a rematch. “All right, you can bring it. Come on. Let’s go.”
He started to race down the stairs, then slowed down. Sometimes he listened.
We got in the car, and ten minutes later, we walked through the tasting room. Gio kept trying to run, so I kept a secure hand on his shoulder as we maneuvered across the Italian slate floor.
“Hey, bud!” Nero, my younger brother by two years said. He popped a cork off a bottle of pinot, poured a tasting, and re-corked the bottle. He pushed the glass to the woman on the other side of the bar, gave her his signature smile that he swore could get anyone in his bed, then headed our way.
He bent to Gio’s height and held out his hand. Gio immediately did their secret handshake they spent an entire day perfecting when Nero watched him when I had a private tasting.
“What are you doing here?” Nero asked.
Gio sighed. “Margie didn’t like Sally.”
Nero, I’ll give him credit, attempted to stifle his laugh. “Oh, I bet the old bag flipped out.”
“She wasn’t happy.”
“No, she wasn’t,” I interjected. “Which is why she quit.”
Nero frowned, glancing at me with a sympathetic glint in his dark blue eyes. I’d take sympathy over pity any day. “You know I’d help, but if the state comes in and sees him behind the bar, we’re all screwed.”
“I know, which is why I thought he could spend time with Laurent.”
“No can do,” Nero said, and I leveled him with my gaze.
