Page 30 of Kiss My Glass
Shit. And what if we start peeling back the onion and Frankie finds I’ve got nothing below the surface? Dad’s always implied that I’m not a serious person, and what if this proves it? Proves I lack substance, grit, and forethought? I’ll have no chance with Frankie at all.
When I told Dad I refused to go to college, he naturally asked me why. I replied that I didn’t need a degree to be successful in business. Dad dismissed this as eighteen-year-old arrogance, and he was partly right. But I was making six figures by the time I was twenty, so it wasn’t all bravado. It also wasn’t the whole truth. I didn’t want to go to college because I knew I didn’t have what it took to match Nate and Ava. I never could in high school, either, but I was way more popular and that made up for it. But in college, being the guy that everyone wanted to be friends with would count for nothing. I couldn’t face four, maybe five years of under-achieving by Dad’s standards. So, I lit out for L.A. And, luckily, didn’t have to crawl home in disgrace.
I’m good at what I do, but it’s theonlything I do. I’m a one-trick pony, and when it comes to Frankie, I’m not sure one is the magic number.
“Danny?”
Nate has something else on his mind.
“What?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but Frankie isn’t an ordinary girl. She’s family.”
I get it. There’s a lot more riding on this than hurt feelings. A lot more riding on me.Don’t fuck it up, is what Nate’s saying. More than that – he’s saying don’t place him in a spot where he's forced to choose between his brother and his wife.
I could plead my case, promise I’d never do anything to hurt Frankie, but I won’t because there’s only one way I can take that comment. If Nate trusted me, he would never have said it.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, bro. You and Dad have a lot in common.
“I’ve got some ideas about your data capture,” I say. “Want to hear them?”
Nate searches my face but I’m pokered to the max.
“Sure,” he says. “Fire away.”
ChapterSeventeen
FRANKIE
About me and Danny, Shelby only says, “I’m so happy for you!”
Hearing her gives me mixed feelings. I’ve been coming up with so many objections – to this bananas plan I seem to have concocted and to the possibility of it succeeding. Even if Danny and I sail through every challenge and find we’re the most compatible two people on earth, is a relationship the right thing? I’m twenty-six and I do well on my own. Statistics show that single women live longer than their committed counterparts. And where would we live? No way will I move to L.A., but I can’t see Danny trading down to San Diego. And what if my law firm asks me to relocate to another office again? Somewhere even colder than Minnesota, like Alaska? I’m pretty sure there isn't a flourishing classic car trade in the frozen north. And what about the future: does Danny want children? Kids have hardly been top of mind for me, and I’d prefer it to stay that way for a while. It’ll be me whose career is most interrupted, and that feels unfair. And considering I didn’t much enjoy my own childhood, I’m not sure that I want to risk my own kid feeling the same.
And-and-and ad infinitum… I can come up with a million reasons not to do this, but deep down, I know they all have the same root cause. Fear. Of being vulnerable. Of being rejected. Of being forced to be someone other than my true self. I know all this because I’m the kind of person who likes to solve problems. Even the weird, knotty tangles of my own psyche.
But just because I know all this doesn’t mean I want to open myself up. Not yet anyway. That’s the advantage of this plan: it buys me time.
Besides, Shelby can find reasons to be happy about pretty much anything. If an asteroid turned the world to dust tomorrow, she’d get one of those tiny rakes and make Zen gardens.
It’s mid-afternoon and she and I are headed to the main shed to hang with Cam, Doug, and Javi, who are meeting to discuss the vineyard work schedule. Shelby didn’t tell Nate she planned to crash the meeting, and perhaps I shouldn’t have agreed, but I know it’s important to her to feel part of things. I suspect it’s a distraction, too. I’m not the only one with underlying fears, and if Shelby sits around the house too long, she starts to focus on them. Plus, it’s a beautiful day and a short, easy walk to the main shed. Shelby can sit and rest while the guys sort out who’s doing what when.
Cam, Doug, and Javi are already there, seated on empty barrels arranged around an old trestle table. The Flora Valley Wines actual office only fits two people at most and thus is currently fully occupied by Nate and Danny. A part of me wishes they were here, too. Just because I’m being cautious doesn’t mean I want to avoid Danny altogether. It’s weird – ever since Chiara informed me that I had feelings for him, I’ve been able to let go of my grudge and appreciate his good points. It’s like Chiara acted like human Drano and cleared a bunch of blockages. Now I can admit to myself that I like Danny’s ready smile, and the way he always looks to catch my eye first when someone’s said something funny. I like his dress sense, the way he’s not afraid to wear color. I like his energy and how his body moves with an easy athleticism. I like to imagine how his mouth would feel against mine and?—
Focus, Frankie. You need to keep an eye on Shelby. One minute, you’re lost in a sexy fantasy, and the next, your frail pregnant sister is trying to build a wine tasting room with her own bare hands.
“Muy buenas, Frankie!”
Javi, short for Javier, has only been part of the Flora Valley Wines team for six or so years, so I don’t know him that well at all. But I think I must remind him of Dad, whom he loved, because he’s always super glad to see me.
Javi kisses me on both cheeks. He’s short and slender but has a serious presence – you wouldn’t want to mess with Javi. His main place of employment is actually Bartons Hotel, where he’s the concierge. His boss, Ted, gives him time off to work for the winery. Ted says it’s because he wants to support the wider community, but it’s more probably because Javi can source anything from anywhere and Ted would hate to lose him. If you want a bejeweled elephant for your private birthday party on the Bartons lawn, just slip Javi the word and a suitable amount of currency, and voila, Bulgari-encrusted Jumbo.
“Hey there.”
This is Doug’s standard greeting. He’s in charge of mowing but gets roped in to most other outdoor tasks. Doug’s of indeterminate age and looks like he’s made out of knotted rope and cowhide. His full gray mustache makes him look like a cross between Sam Elliott and Mark Twain. He’s also known as Toothless Doug, even though he has a full set of teeth. Don’t ask.
I don’t expect anything more than a nod from Cam, but to my surprise, I get, “Good to see you, Frankie.” And to Shelby, he says, “You doing okay?”
“Ye-es,” she replies, heavily. “Bored. Trying not to freak out. Did I mention bored?”
