Thirty-five #2
“She arranged it all before she passed,” Sadie continues. “She wanted it to be a party, not a sad goodbye. Her favorite local band will be there. There’ll be barbecue, cold beer, and probably a few stories too colorful to repeat. Everyone in Paradise is welcome.”
Mom reaches over and squeezes her hand. “That sounds exactly like Rosie. We’ll be there.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Greyson says.
I glance at Sadie, and pride swells. The way she carries herself, even in the middle of all this family drama… She’s got more grace than anyone.
And she’s going to be mine.
The rest of dinner is quieter after the fireworks Zach created.
Eventually, the lasagna plates are picked clean, the salad’s gone, and even the garlic bread basket looks sad and empty.
Everyone settles into the soft murmur of dessert and decaf, and it’s almost quiet enough to hear forks crack the golden tops of Mom’s crème br?lée.
It’s perfect—crisp sugar, smooth custard.
When his plate is clean, Greyson pushes back from the table and stretches. “We’ve got early mornings,” he says, glancing at Trinity.
She nods and stands, brushing her dress smooth. “Long day tomorrow.”
Sadie rises too. “Since I’m not working right now, I can help clean up.”
Mom waves her hand in dismissal. “Sweetheart, don’t even think about it. I have a housekeeper who’ll be here at dawn to loa d the dishwasher. That’s really all that needs to be done.”
Sadie laughs, seeming a little unsure, but she doesn’t push back.
I step up beside her. “I’ll walk you out,” I say.
She hesitates. “Only if I can at least carry some dishes to the kitchen first.”
I nod, ready to grab a few myself, but I hear my name.
“Beck,” Tarryn calls, already halfway to the far corner of the room. Ryker’s right behind her, motioning for me to follow.
I glance at Sadie. She gives me a nod, already stacking plates with Mom. I hate leaving her like this, but Tarryn’s face is tight with frustration, and I know better than to let that stew too long.
I follow them to the corner, tucked away from the rest of the noise. Tarryn’s already venting, arms crossed, voice low but fierce.
“What Zach did was a slap in the face. I gave him a clear budget. We can’t afford a fancy sommelier.”
Ryker nods. “Total power move.”
“If Dad sides with them tomorrow,” she says, eyes flashing, “it’s going to feel like he’s cutting me off at the knees again. Just like every time Uncle Max stirs up trouble.”
“I don’t think he will,” I say quietly. “Dad looked pissed. He called them into that meeting tomorrow morning without even blinking. That’s not neutral ground. That’s backing you.”
Ryker claps a hand on her shoulder. “He’s right. I think Zach and Max are toast.”
Tarryn exhales, just a little. “Still…I need to be ready.”
Ryker nods. “Then go in with numbers. What a third-level sommelier costs, what the tasting room would have to make to justify that, and the capital expenditure for the pinot vines. Line it all up. Then make the case for bringing Sadie back.”
“Yeah,” Ryker says. “The tasting room was packed when she was working. She’s local, charming, and doesn’t cost six figures. Plus, bring her VIP strategy to the table. Show them your full vision. ”
I nod. “You’re more than ready for this. Don’t lose sleep over it.”
But I see it in her eyes. She already has and maybe will again. Dad’s always said he supports her, but there were times in the past when he folded to keep peace with Max. I know it still stings.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement. Sadie’s got her bag slung over her shoulder, and she’s quietly slipping toward the door.
I shoot Tarryn a parting smile. “You’ve got this.”
And then I’m off, moving quickly. “Sadie!” I call as I jog through the entryway.
She pauses at the front door, her hand on the knob. “Hey,” she says.
I catch up, a little breathless. “You were going to leave without saying goodbye?”
Her smile wavers. “I figured you were busy.”
“Not too busy for you.” I open the door for her. “How are you getting home?”
“I was going to call a rideshare.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” I say as we step out into the night, and I usher her toward my car.
We walk side by side under the soft glow of the porch lights, the gravel crunching beneath our feet. I want to reach out and take her hand—feel that spark, that warmth—but I stop myself. I don’t want to push. Not tonight.
“I’ll be there Friday,” I say quietly. “For Rosie’s funeral.”
Sadie looks over at me. “Thank you. I’d love that. She’d love that.”
I nod, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “What’ve you been doing lately? Until you go back to work, I mean.”
She shrugs. “I guess I need to start looking again. After what Zach said tonight, it sounds like the job’s gone.”
“Don’t,” I tell her. “Just hold off. They’re meeting in the morning, and I’ve got a good feeling about it. I think things will go the way Tarryn’s hoping.”
Sadie nods but says nothing. Her silence isn’t cold. It’s careful.
“I miss you,” I say, letting the words land in the space between us.
She looks up at me, eyes wide and full of feeling. “I miss you too.”
We stop when we reach my car. She turns, and before I lose my nerve, I step in close and kiss her.
It’s slow. Lingering. Like I’m trying to tell her everything I haven’t said. She doesn’t pull away. She melts into it, and for a second, it feels like we’re right back where we were…before everything fell apart.
When we break, she stays close, breath warm against my cheek.
“Come back to my place,” I say. “Stay the night.”
She stills. “Beckett…” Her voice is soft. “We broke up because you didn’t trust me.”
I nod guiltily. “I know. That was a mistake. A big one. And if you just want to talk tonight, that’s fine. I don’t care what we do. I just… I want to be with you.”
She studies me for a long second. Then slowly, she nods. “Okay,” she says. “Life’s too short. Let’s go.”