Chapter 2 #2
“I’m not engaged yet. I’m sure we’ll be taking that trip sooner rather than later.
But for now, I just want to enjoy what Bryson and I have.
It’s been a long road getting here.” Riley's expression grew thoughtful.
"I know what it's like, starting over in a place that holds so many memories. It can be overwhelming."
“It’s not the childhood memories this place holds that’s making my return difficult.
When I left after high school and my parents moved away, I never had any intention of returning.
I wanted to live in a big city. Something with crowds of people.
Culture. Art. I grew tired of that real quick, and the job I took with Harold was supposed to be my ticket to something else.
I loved it—even if my mentor turned out to be a dick. ”
A flash of her father sitting at the kitchen table, her mother next to him, holding his hand, while he tried to explain what had happened.
The insurance fraud. The charges. The loss of his job.
The father she’d known—loved and idolized—had possibly committed a crime. One that could send him to a federal prison.
None of it made sense.
“I don’t really know Harold—only what Bryson and his family have told me. And while Harold has always had a solid reputation, they had their reservations about the way he’s handled a few things over the years.”
“I wish I had seen it all sooner.” Emery sighed.
“But it doesn’t matter. I’m the one who went down for it.
” Emery wanted to put the whole thing behind her—pretend it had never happened, which was why this interview settled in her chest like a bad cold.
“Thank you for not jumping right to the conclusion that I did what I was accused of.”
“Almost thirteen years ago, I made decisions based on half-truths. It cost me Bryson.” Riley’s fingers tightened around her mug. "I'm sorry about everything you went through with the scandal. I can't imagine how devastating that must have been."
"Thank you. And I'm sorry about your father and the pending trial with your mom.”
A shadow crossed Riley's face. She glanced at her hands, fiddling with her thumb. "It's been hard. The whole family is still reeling."
Emery had watched from a distance and had heard whispers about the Callahan family drama—murder, fraud, and embezzlement that had landed Riley's mother right in the middle of it all. "How are your siblings handling it?"
"Better than expected, actually. Grant's struggling the most—he's always been the one who tried to hold the family together, so he's taking it personally—especially because he still feels responsible for my father’s death. No one blames him, but he can’t help it. He still tortures himself, and I don’t think he’ll be able to let it go until my mother is firmly behind bars. ”
“It’s got to be awkward to run into her.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Riley said. “Fortunately, that doesn’t happen often since she doesn’t leave home that much. Not out of guilt, but because she doesn’t like it when people whisper behind her back. She’s tried to spin this, but no one in this town is giving her the time of day.”
“Not that I’m comparing, but people pointed and stared before I left three months ago. I’m afraid that might not have changed.”
“I’m here to fix perceptions, and what happened wasn’t anywhere near as bad as what my mother did.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that it was.” Christ. What a rotten thing to say.
“It’s all good. I totally understand,” Riley said. “While the whole thing sucks, it did bring me and my siblings together. Erin and I are closer than we've been in years, and the kids are adjusting. It's strange how a crisis can unite people even as it tears other things apart."
"Are you glad to be back?"
Riley's smile was soft, private. But the glimmer in her eyes told the entire story.
"I'm glad to be home. I didn't think I'd ever be able to say that, but here we are.
" She gestured toward the window where the vineyard stretched into the hills.
"And I'm especially glad to have Bryson back.
In high school, everyone always said we were perfect for each other, and it turns out everyone was right. "
"I remember you two together. You were the couple everyone else wanted to be."
"Until we weren't." Riley's laugh held old pain. "We were so young, so stubborn. We both made mistakes."
"Speaking of mistakes, I nearly choked on my coffee when I heard Bryson had married Monica Gilford."
Riley rolled her eyes so hard Emery was surprised she didn't strain something. "Monica. The rebound marriage that lasted exactly eighteen months and should’ve lasted about eighteen minutes."
"That bad?"
"She married him because she wanted to be a Boone, not because she wanted to be married to Bryson. And she spent most of their marriage trying to turn him into someone he wasn't." Riley pushed her mug aside. "Thank God they never had kids."
"I heard she's dating Winston Callaway now."
"She is, and they're welcome to each other.
Winston's got enough ego to match hers, plus he's got money, which is really all Monica's ever cared about.
" Riley paused. "I have to admit, it's nice having her focused on someone else.
She spent years trying to get her claws back into Bryson every time she was between relationships. "
"And now she's Winston's problem."
"Exactly. Let him deal with her social climbing and her passive-aggressive comments about his wine choices."
The back door opened with a bang, followed by the sound of male laughter and good-natured arguing.
"—telling you, if we irrigate Block Seven any more, we’re going to drown the roots," Bryson's voice carried into the kitchen.
"And I'm telling you that Block Seven has different drainage than Block Six. We can't treat them the same way." Devon's reply was patient but firm, the tone of someone who'd had this argument before.
The brothers appeared in the kitchen doorway, both mud-splattered and windblown from their morning walk. Bryson headed straight for Riley, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before settling into the chair beside her. "Morning, beautiful. Did my mother feed our new employee yet?"
"She tried to feed her to death with cinnamon rolls," Riley said, leaning into his side. "I barely saved her from a sugar coma."
Devon caught Emery's gaze and smiled, and despite her best efforts, she felt that familiar flutter in her chest. "Ready for your first official day?"
"Ready as I'll ever be." She stood and carried her empty mug to the sink, hyperaware of his presence behind her. "Thank you for the breakfast, Riley. And for the company."
"Anytime. It's nice having another woman around who's not related to these two." Riley jerked her thumb between the two men.
Bryson mock gasped. "I'm wounded. Deeply wounded by your lack of loyalty."
"You'll survive," Riley said dryly. "Your ego's too big to be permanently damaged."
"My ego is perfectly sized, thank you very much." Bryson reached across the counter and picked off a piece of one of the tasty treats.
"If by perfectly sized you mean enormous, then yes." Riley cocked a brow.
Devon laughed. "She's got you there, brother."
"Et tu, Devon?" Bryson placed a hand over his heart in theatrical betrayal. "My own blood, turning against me."
"I'm not turning against you. I'm just acknowledging reality." Devon leaned against the counter.
Emery watched the easy banter between them, the way Riley fit seamlessly into their dynamic, the obvious affection that underscored even their teasing.
This was what family looked like—not the careful politeness that had developed between her and her parents, even her sister, since her dad’s professional nightmare changed the family dynamics.
"Speaking of reality," Devon said, glancing at his watch. “We should head to Dad's office. He's probably been awake since five, making notes about expansion plans—as if premium wines haven’t been in the making for a few years now.”
“Perhaps, but jumping into selling our vintage bottles is something entirely new,” Bryson muttered. “And when Dad gets excited about a new project, he goes into full strategic planning mode."
"Is that bad?" Emery asked.
"Let's just say you might want to bring a notepad," Riley advised. "And maybe some caffeine. Walter Boone, with a business plan, is a force of nature. And for the last two months, all he can talk about is the idea of creating wines that can be considered vintage and collector items.”
“Nothing like piling on the pressure,” Emery mumbled.
“You think that’s pressure?” Devon asked.
“Bryson and I are the ones who have to create wines worthy of not only our premium lines, but ones to set aside for these rare auction items.” He motioned toward another hallway that led deeper into the house.
"Come on, let's go see what empire-building scheme he's cooked up overnight. "
As they left the kitchen, Emery caught Riley's encouraging smile and felt some of her nervousness ease. Whatever came next, at least she wasn't facing it alone.
"By the way," Bryson said as they walked down a hallway lined with more family photos and wine awards. "I owe you an apology."
Emery looked at him in surprise. "For what?"
"For being resistant to hiring you. It wasn't personal—I'm just protective of what we've built here. But Devon was right to push for you, and I'm sorry if my hesitation during the interview process made you feel unwelcome."
The admission was unexpected and clearly cost him something to make. Emery felt a rush of gratitude for his honesty.
"Thank you for saying that. And for the record, I understand the hesitation. If I were in your position, I'd probably have the same concerns."
"The difference is, your baby sisters wouldn't have been so harsh with their opinions regarding you and your reservations," Devon said with a grin.