Page 66 of Love Among Vines

As soon as they’d ordered, she dug around in her purse.

“So,” she said, removing a half dozen sheets of paper, “down to business.”

From the corner of his eye, Rett spotted Glenda, a notorious town gossip and old friend of his parents.

“Hang on.” He picked up Jade’s hand and pressed a kiss to it. Frankly he would have rather kissed her face, but probably would have knocked the table over.

Jade’s cheeks grew pink. “What was that for?”

“The woman at your three o’clock is on the guest list for the party. She’s also old friends with my parents.”

“Got it. Let me deploy some footsie.” Her wedge found his wingtip.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now let’s take a look.” He flipped through the papers in front of him. It was by far the messiest financial accounting he had ever seen. “You know, I was kind of hoping for a spreadsheet.”

“I’m an artist, not an accountant.”

It was probably better to keep his comments to himself. He perused the papers for a few minutes before shuffling them into a neat stack and folding his hands together.

It wasn’t good. If anything, she had underexaggerated.

“So. You’re twenty-six and have no retirement savings, no equity, no investments, and no predictable income.”

Jade folded her arms. “This is starting to sound like a conversation that ends in a screaming match. Do I seriously not get any credit for paying off my student loans?”

He threw up his hands. “The fact that you don’t have any other debt is great. But your bank account is running on fumes and rent in the city is astronomical. It’s not good.”

“I know. I’m researching rent prices in the outer boroughs.”

“Good. When is your lease up?”

“End of December,” she said hesitantly. “I gave the super my sob story and got him to give me a six-month lease.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Her lease was up in two months and she hadn’t found a new place to live? She didn’t need his criticism, but it was damned hard to keep his mouth shut.

“Change is scary. But the good part is I think you have transferable skills. I prepared a list of career suggestions.” He pulled out the document he had typed up earlier. “Do you have any interest in graphic design?”

“It’s not something I’ve ever gravitated towards, but I’d be willing to try.”

“That would be a great solution, and it can even be temporary if your muse comes back for good and things go back to normal. What kind of computer do you have?”

“A ten-year-old Mac I got for high school graduation.”

Rett shook his head. There was enough wiggle room in the budget for an upgrade. “We’re getting you a new one. You won’t be able to freelance with a ten-year-old computer on its last legs. Second,” he said louder to cover the series of splutters she had just released, “I know you’re busy with the mural right now. But if it helps your portfolio, I would love for you to design a label for my new line of sparkling wines. If I haven’t destroyed my grandmother’s legacy and shamed my entire family with a faulty product, anyway.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Stop it. There is no way you made a crappy product. Did you try it today?”

“Well, no.”

“We’re opening a bottle on the next date night. No discussion.”

He nodded. It was probably time to stop avoiding it.

“And you’re not buying me a laptop. I have?—”

“You have nothing. I am buying you a laptop. Consider it a contractor perk for working on the new label. And the paint and sip. Let’s talk about that.”

She straightened. “Great. I have some thoughts.”

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