Page 47 of Kiss My Glass
Ted smiles. He has hazel eyes with more green in them than brown, unusual for someone with such white blond hair. His skin is perfect, as are his teeth. He’s either struck it lucky in the genetic lottery or he has a sizable personal grooming budget. As with everything about Ted, you’ll never find out. Even if you ask him directly.
“Not long, no,” he says.
See what I mean? That kind of evasion is … what’s that British phrase? It’s not cricket!
He must have spotted the determined glint in my eye because he swiftly changes tack. It helps that my mouth is now occupied with a miniature butterfly cake.
“How are things at the winery?” he says. “Do Nate and Shelby need any further help?”
“I’m not sure,” I reply, truthfully. “It was pretty huge for them to ask Danny and me to come and stay, but that doesn’t mean they’ll confide in us completely. Shelby’s always been an incurable optimist and Nate takes too much responsibility on his shoulders. So…”
I shrug my shoulders and take a tiny sandwich. It’s smoked salmon, which is borderline but acceptable.
“I hear they may not hold the crush celebrations this year,” Ted says. “It’s a sensible precaution, given the timing coincides so closely with Shelby’s due date. But I wonder?—”
“Whether weshouldhold it?” I say. “We’ve talked about it, and the major issue is that all of the Armstrong-Durant friends and family will be supporting the birth if it does coincide, and it would be strange not to have them there.”
“Sometimes community events become bigger than their founders,” he responds. “And though the presence of the Flora Valley Wines families would be missed, I wonder if the event itself would be missed more.”
I could interrogate him about why he cares so much about our little community when it seems like he’d be more at home jetting between international tax havens, but that feels churlish.
“Ava, Chiara and Jordan are the official organizing committee,” I say. “Perhaps you should talk to them.”
“Sound advice,” says Ted. “Thank you.”
There isn’t a hint of disappointment in his tone but I still feel like I’ve failed some kind of test. Maybe I should take over organizing the crush celebrations? Maybe Danny and I should do it? Even if Nate and Shelby’s baby decides to make its entrance on the day, it’s not like that’ll be our only opportunity to see our niece-slash-nephew. Maybe Danny and I should take one for the Armstrong-Durant family team and make sure our community doesn’t miss out on the highlight of their year? I have no idea how we’d break it to Ava, Chiara, and Jordan, but it’s possible they’ll be relieved. Shelby will be overjoyed. She’s determined that the crush will go ahead because it was always Dad’s big day, and she wants to be loyal to his memory. Which I fully understand; Dad was larger than life and it’s impossible to imagine a Flora Valley Wines event without sensing his presence.
While I’ve been thinking and, to be fair, eating another tiny cake, Ted has stepped away from the table to answer a call. It must be Danny because Ted’s giving instructions on how to find us. Two minutes’ later, Danny appears, a little flushed and breathless, which makes him look super cute and about fifteen years old.
“Three-ninety less ten percent sales commission, cash payment overnight and pickup within the week,” he says to Ted. “Might get more at auction, but?—”
“Excellent.” Ted shakes Danny’s hand again. “My acquaintance will be very relieved. Send me the details and consider it done.”
He gestures for Danny to take a seat. “I think a glass of champagne to celebrate, don’t you?”
“Not for me, thanks,” Danny says. “I’m driving.” He flashes me a grin. “And I haven’t found out yet whether Frankie’s a champagne drinker or not.”
I am not. I know it’s an elegant, sophisticated tipple, but to me, champagne always tastes like almond pastry. I like pastry but not when it’s tainted by almonds.
Time to take our leave. I get up and stand next to Danny.
“Thank you, Ted,” I say to him. “And I will think about what you said.”
“Will you?” Ted arches one perfect blond eyebrow. “That’s very good to hear, Frankie.”
I offer him my hand, too. A tiny part of me would like him to bend and kiss it, but sadly, he gives it a firm single shake.
“I’ll show you out,” he says. “And thank you again for agreeing to come on such short notice.”
“Our pleasure!”
I can see Danny fighting an urge to skip with joy. It’s frankly adorable.
Back in the car, Ted having waved farewell and retreated into the mansion, Danny finally gives in and lets out a whoop.
“Holy shit!” He lifts his hands off the wheel. “Look! I’m shaking!”
“Let me guess?” I say, with a smile. “Biggest sale you’ve ever made?”
