to be said for real-world experience.”
“Perhaps, but those who are the freshest out of the gate are the ones full of so much knowledge they forget to fear. They’re the ones with enough faith to jump and have the guts to know when to take that leap. They’ve yet to be tempered by experience, burdened by fear. You’re not hesitant.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Trust me, cupcake, you’re fearless.”
The elevator comes to a halt. The moment the doors open wide, he makes his escape. He takes a deep breath and cranes his neck to look back up from where we came.
“I really hate heights.” A whole-body shudder shakes him. Then he grins because he knows it’s a foolish fear. I get it, though. Fear isn’t rational.
Look at me. My head knows Brody isn’t a threat. My fear says otherwise, nearly paralyzing me in the process.
“If I’d known what this place looked like, I wouldn’t have asked you to come.” I spin in a slow circle taking in the beauty of the building. Whoever designed this atrium is a person who misses the outdoors. “But I’m really glad you did. You’re my rock.”
“I’m glad I did as well. I have a better understanding of what to expect with this whole process. I’m hopeful, I suppose, but I’ve always had faith in you. I knew you wouldn’t propose it if it didn’t make the best sense for us, but I’ve been around the block a time or two. I fear change.” He gives a soft laugh. “But you didn’t hesitate. Circumstances demanded you step up, and you did just that—fearlessly.”
“I don’t know about all of that. Most days, I feel like I’m drowning. In class, everything was abstract. It was just an assignment. If you fucked it up, all you got was a bad grade. I can’t do that with Atwood Estates.”
“And what is your gut saying?”
“This is what we need.”
“Then we go with your gut and all your fresh ideas. I did like the tier system he mentioned. It makes it feel like we’re not giving up all control.” He clasps my hand. “We’ll turn this place around, you and me. You with your business sense and me with my knowledge of operations.”
“Yeah.”
Except my business sense is untried, and his knowledge hasn’t been enough to keep us afloat.
I cringe. Blaming Mark is unfair. He’s not at fault for the drought that starved our vines, and my mom is the one who’s been in charge of the business side of things. I feel better about our chances of turning things around.
I lift my fingers to my lips.
They’re puffy, swollen, and still aching from Brody’s kiss. Other parts of me throb in response.
Next time I see Brody, we’re going to lay down some ground rules. Atwood Estates is my livelihood. I don’t have time for anything else.
There are consequences if things go wrong. Consequences which matter more than a silly girl’s reputation or a silly girl’s fantasies.
The drive home is not as bad as I think it’ll be. We don’t escape rush hour traffic, but we’re at the leading edge of the great bulge of commuters fleeing the city.
And it’s a gorgeous, sunny day.
We roll down our windows once we’re off the interstate and let the aromas of California wine country carry us home. It’s not too long before we pull up the drive outside Mom’s house.
“I’m going to tell Mom how things went.” I want to jump out of the car the moment Mark brings us to a stop, but he grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“Let’s tell her together.”
“Abbie’s here.” I’m happy to see Abbie La Rouge’s car parked outside.
“I noticed she’s been coming around more often.”
“Yeah, I think she knows there’s not much time.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true. Lucy deserves to be surrounded by those she loves, and Abbie’s always been a dear friend.”
His statement is true. Abbie promised she’d come by and check on Mom while we were gone and would be here to give Mom her afternoon pills in case we didn’t make it back in time. Traffic is always unpredictable.
Abbie’s light and airy voice carries on the wind, and I stop in my tracks. Mark pulls up short as I point toward the porch. He stops and tilts his head.
She’s outside? He mouths the words, and I hold my hand over my heart as I fight the tears.
It’s been weeks since Mom felt good enough to move from her bed to the rocking chair outside her room. Abbie