Serves Me Wright (Wright #9) - K.A. Linde Page 0,48
moving across the country to be with their mom. That took real guts.”
I almost rolled my eyes. Had he always been so transparent?
“What are you doing there?” I asked. “I can’t see you moving somewhere and doing nothing.”
“Julian, this isn’t an interrogation,” Jordan said. “It’s dinner.”
Our dad held his hand up though. “It’s fine, Jordan. Julian is entitled to his questions. I haven’t always been the best father. He has every right to be skeptical.”
I almost snorted. The best father? What an understatement.
I’d worshipped the ground he’d walked on. Then he’d shattered every ounce of that love into pieces. He was a liar. He’d always been a liar. And I didn’t know how to let him build back the trust.
“I’m working in corporate America now. I’m sitting on three boards right now. Before, I was consulting with a local commercial construction company. Nothing like running my own branch of a Fortune 500 company, but I ruined that for myself.” He shrugged. He almost sounded…remorseful. Like he regretted the actions that had led to him being removed from his position at Wright Construction. He’d lost everything when he bet on that.
“We all make mistakes,” Jennifer said softly. “It’s learning from them that’s important.”
Our eyes met, and she smiled again. That new smile. The one I’d never seen before. Not just when she was looking at me, but when she was looking at anyone. I’d thought I had all of her smiles memorized. This one made me want to try hard, do better, be more. And maybe that meant giving my dad an actual chance here.
“You’re right,” I agreed. I looked back at my dad, prepared to start this conversation over. “Tell me about Seattle.”
22
Julian
By the time dessert was served—a decadent chocolate fondue—everyone had loosened up. I was still hesitant about my dad. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to step out of line and prove my point. But so far, it seemed like he’d actually flown in from Seattle to Lubbock, Texas to see us.
“So, you’re saying that Julian is running the entire vineyard on his own?” my dad asked.
Jordan grinned. “Yes. I’ve basically handed it all off to him. I did a lot of the setup, but he’s in charge.”
“Hollin does a lot of the work, too,” I said quickly.
“Sure,” Jordan said. “Day-to-day stuff. He manages the team. That’s what he’s good at. He already knows the winery. He’s worked in every position before this, so he’s perfect for it. But you’re the businessman.”
“That’s incredible, Julian,” my dad said.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile.
“Seriously, it’s such a relief,” Jordan said with a laugh. “Working two jobs…”
“Was terrible,” Annie finished for him, dipping her piece of cake into the chocolate. “He was running himself ragged.”
“Yeah,” Jordan said with a shrug. “What else is new?”
“Doesn’t sound healthy,” Jennifer said.
Annie gestured to Jen with her cake. “Exactly!”
“Well, I’m proud that Julian can handle it all on his own. Doesn’t even need me anymore,” he said with a laugh.
“That’s not true,” I told him.
He waved me off. “I like it that way. That the winery is doing well enough on its own without me. Especially with all the distribution options.”
“Distribution?” my dad asked with actual interest.
“Yeah. I’m working with the wine distribution company out of Dallas to get Wright wine in stores all over the state.”
“That would be huge,” my dad said with a proud light in his eyes.
“It would, but we’re still negotiating. We’re meeting face-to-face on Friday. It’s probably the most important meeting since we bought the place.”
Jen squeezed my knee again. As if she could hear the hint of fear in my voice. This distribution would make or break where Wright Vineyard was going. I couldn’t fuck it up. Not when Jordan had handed everything over to me.
“I know you’ll handle it the Wright way,” my dad said with a laugh.
I sat back, waiting for him to fuck up, to offer to step in and help, to take over the vineyard in some small way. It’d be supremely stupid, but I’d never put it past him. Except it didn’t happen. He genuinely seemed interested.
“And you, Jen?” my dad said, turning to her. “You’re a photographer for the vineyard?”
“Yes, I’m full-time on events,” she said with a smile.
“Don’t be modest,” Annie jumped in. “She’s a genius.”
Jennifer blushed and stared down at her chocolate-covered marshmallow.
“She really is,” I agreed. “I’m using her work as my headshot, and she did a photoshoot with Campbell Abbey.”