Page 9 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

I slide out of bed as quietly as possible, grabbing my clothes off the floor from where they’re scattered around the room. Each movement sends a new wave of nausea through me, and my head swims from the remnants of last night’s whiskey. Wine I can handle; whiskey apparently is my kryptonite. I tiptoe toward the bathroom to get dressed, wincing with every creak of the floorboards and praying he doesn’t wake up. I can't deal with any awkward morning-after conversations right now.

Once dressed, I peek back into the bedroom and see my mystery man hasn’t stirred. Thank god.

I grab my phone from the nightstand and slip out of the hotel room, making my way down the hall, through the lobby, and out into the bright morning sun. The heat of the humid Florida air hits me like a slap, and I blink against the brightness of the sun as I hurry toward my car. I need my sunglasses.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I take a deep breath, trying to calm the anxiety clawing at my chest. What the hell did I do? I’m not ashamed of what I did last night, but I am embarrassed that I drank so much. Humiliation surges through me. I cannot drink like that anymore… I’m not in college.

Before I can dwell on it too much, my phone vibrates. Brennen’s name flashes across the screen, and the knot of guilt in my stomach tightens. I know he’s probably been trying to reach me since he woke up and I’ve been… unavailable.

I answer, bracing myself. “Hey, Brennen.”

“Emma, where the hell have you been?” he barks, sounding more frantic than usual. I wince and hold the phone away from my ear. “I’ve been calling you for the past hour!”

Yep. I was right. Frantic.

“I… overslept,” I lie, rubbing my temple to ease the headache. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on!” His voice rises with panic. “The world’s most respected wine critic is intown, and I just found out that he’s planning to visit the winery… TODAY! He’s going to taste our wine today, Emma, and I’m not ready. The wine’s not ready!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my brain scrambling to catch up with the onslaught of information. “Wait—what? The critic is here? And he’s coming today?”

“Yes, today!” Brennen’s voice is nearly hysterical now. “I didn’t get any warning, no heads-up, nothing! I don’t even have time to make any adjustments or check the batches. And the wine he’s coming to taste—it’s not ready, Emma. It’s not ready. You’ve got to do something.”

I can almost picture him pacing the winery floor, running his hands through his hair in that anxious way he does when things go south for him. “Brennen, calm down. I can’t stop the critic from coming to taste the wine. Besides, the newest batch is good, really good. I think it’s ready.”

“But… there has to be something!” he pleads. “Can’t you file an injunction? Or delay him somehow?”

I stifle a groan. “An injunction to stop a wine tasting? Brennen, that’s ridiculous.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line before he exhales, defeated. “What am I supposed to do, Emma? He’s going to write the review, and if it’s bad… god, if it’s bad, we’ll never recover from it, and we’re so close to fixing Dad’s fuck up.”

I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, my brain still foggy from the hangover. This is not how I imagined starting my Friday morning. “Okay, listen,” I say finally. “How about I come down to the winery and be there when the critic shows up. Maybe I can help smooth things over, make sure they know that the latest batch of wine is still in development or something.”

“Really?” Brennen asks, sounding relieved.

“Yes, of course. I’ll head over there after I shower and get coffee. Just… try to keep calm, okay? We’ll handle it.” I’m going to need two coffees to deal with my brother and a critic today.

“Thank you, Emma. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I hang up and drop the phone onto the passenger seat, my heart racing. Between last night’s questionable decisions and today’s impending disaster at the winery, I feel like my world is spiraling out of control.

But right now, Brennen needs me, and I have to focus on that. I’ll deal with everything else later—the nameless stranger and the hangover. For now, it’s all about damage control at Celtic Knot.

My shower, my coffee, and the drive to the winery do nothing to ease my nerves. I replay Brennen’s words over and over in my head, wondering how things got so out of hand. The critic’s visit was supposed to happen next month, not today. Why the sudden change? Why didn’t we know earlier?

When I pull into the gravel parking lot, the familiar sight of the winery stretches out before me, the sun glinting off the glass windows of the tasting room. Normally, this place calms me, grounds me. But today, the tension in the air is palpable.

Brennen is waiting for me outside the front door, pacing anxiously near the entrance. He spots my car and rushes over, his face pinched with worry.

“Emma, thank god you’re here,” he says, his voice breathless. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to this critic, but nothing sounds right. What if they hate it? What if this ruins us for good?”

I step out of the car and place a reassuring hand on my older brother’s arm. “Brennen, relax. You’re overthinking this. Wine critics are used to tasting wines at different stages of development. We just need to be upfront about where we’re at. Honesty will go a long way.”

He nods, though he still looks unconvinced. “I hope you’re right.”

“Trust me. We’ll get through this. Are Isabella and Sophie aware?”

Brennen nods, “Yeah. They’re just inside.” He waves toward the entrance, and I open the door.

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