Page 65 of Sweet Escape

The more I think about what the future holds for us, the more I’m starting to think that mentality is the right mindset to have.

The reason I’m this stressed and exhausted and overworked is because I’m trying to do it all alone. I’m trying to carry the burden alone, when the better choice—the smarter choice—is for us to take on whatever comes next together.

The phone rings three times before she picks up, and when she does, an unfamiliar warmth spreads through my chest.

“Well, hello, Mr. Bartender.”

I smile like an idiot, glad she can’t see me on the other end of the line.

“Hey. Wanted to check in. See how you’re doing.”

She hums, and even though there’s nothing sexual about it, the sound still zips through me, pulsing between my legs.

“I’m doing really good, actually. I’ve been working on my music, which is the best kind of therapy. And I’m going to Napa with Murphy on Thursday for a little pampering.”

“And Theo? He hasn’t given you any more problems?”

Vivian chuckles. “No. A certain someone scared him out of town and right back onto a same-day flight.”

“Good. I’m glad he took what I said seriously.”

“What exactly did you say to him to get him to listen to you?”

I smirk. “I might have told him that I have a lot of machinery and a huge property where nobody would find his body.”

She gasps. “You did not!” Then she bursts into laughter.

“It might have been a little much, but it felt right at the time.”

She continues to laugh for a long beat, and I lean back in my desk chair, enjoying the way the sound ripples through me.

“Thank you for that. I really needed a laugh today.” She pauses. “How about you? How’ve you been?”

Exhausted. Mentally drained. Overworked.

But I don’t want that to be the direction of our conversation, so I focus on something else entirely.

“The harvest is going well. The team seems to be gelling, and we’re staying on schedule, which is pretty great during the first few days. There can be a steep learning curve for the newbies.”

“Does the harvest feel different now that you’re the head honcho? Or is it pretty much the same?”

At that, I can’t help the sigh that leaks from my mouth.

“Oooh, that awesome, huh?” she says, laughing lightly. “Did I poke at a sore subject?”

“A little bit, but it’s not a bad thing,” I answer. “It’s just ... my dad didn’t tell me that he was going to make that announcement. It waskind of out of left field. I’m not sure I’m ready to handle the weight of the entire vineyard on my shoulders.”

Vivian’s quiet on the other end, and I shake my head, regretting my choice to be honest. I should have kept my mouth shut and said things were going well.

“That sounds like a tough position to be in,” she finally says, her voice soft and serious. “Have you said that to your dad?”

I snort. “Doyouconfront your parents about things that upset you?”

“God, no,” she answers. “But my parents are Hollywood nepo babies who live behind a fake persona with everyone, including each other. That’s all I knew growing up. So the idea that they would be open to having arealconversation about something that bothered me would have been wishful thinking.”

Vivian’s response surprises me. A few of the things she’s said to me since we first met have made it seem like she comes from money, but I never would have guessed she had ties to Hollywood. Not that I know much about it.

“Sounds rough,” I offer, wanting to know more, while at the same time not wanting to pry.

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