Page 8 of A Vintage of Regret
"What if it's some ex-boyfriend or that best girlfriend from high school trying to get a hold of you for old times' sake?" He gave her that look—the one that said he was fishing for gossip and loving every second of it. "That's always so much fun. I recently reconnected with this girl I used to know way back in the day. We have some of the wickedest conversations."
"I can only imagine." She smirked. "But, I don't have either of those, and I have no desire to reconnect with anyone I once knew."
"You're no fun," he said with a chuckle. "I often take calls from telemarketers just to mess with them.
"Of course you do."
“It's so much fun to let them get right to the end of the sales pitch and then tell them no."
"That would just annoy me, and then we'd be back to that funky smile of mine you hate so much."
"Ah, we don't want that.".
Riley took a sip of coffee as she scanned the horizon… thinking about that number. And Stone Bridge. And everything she once held dear.
Mateo leaned back on his elbows. "Stone Bridge is in wine country, right?"
"It is. Some of the best wines in California are made there. I actually lived right next to one." She looked at the screen again. "They left a message."
"Intriguing." He watched her a moment, then gave her one of those perfect Mateo smiles—encouraging without being pushy, interested without being intrusive. She’d never had a friend whounderstood the art of being present without being suffocating. "Are you going to be daring and listen to it?"
“I am.” She tapped the voicemail, hit play with her pulse pounding in her throat, and pressed the phone to her cheek.
"Hey… Riley, umm, it's Bryson,” he said with a clear crack in his typically confidant tone. At least, that was how she remembered him. “So… yeah…. this is out of the blue—and I wouldn't be calling if it weren't serious.” A long pause. “There's been an emergency. You may have already heard. It’s about your dad. So, um, well, can you call me back?"
She didn't breathe for the whole message. Bryson's rich, deep voice washed over her like a tidal wave. It rushed over her skin like the fog rolling down from the mountains. When it ended, she stared at the screen as if it the message might destroy itself in seconds.
Mateo sat up straighter. "You okay?"
"You were right. That was… someone I used to know." Riley's voice was quiet.
"Who was it?"
"Doesn't matter. But I need to call him back." She stood. "Excuse me."
On shaky legs, Riley walked a few paces down the rocky slope, away from camp and the sound of Mateo cracking open another soda. The wind tugged at her braid as she pulled out her phone again, staring at the number and thinking about that damn message from her brother. She should probably listen to it before she called Bryson back. But fear snaked through her veins. Whatever it was, something told her it was better to hear the news from her ex-boyfriend than her brother, as cold as that felt.
She hadn't spoken to Bryson Boone in twelve years. Not since the day she packed her things, walked out of his life, and swore she'd never come back. She had her reasons, and at the time,she’d believed they were good ones—albeit good ones wrapped in tragedy.
A tragedy she hadn't been prepared for, but who is? Thing was, she hadn't realized how much she'd wanted that baby until it was gone. But out of pain and anger, she'd told Bryson she didn't want it. That she didn't want him. That she'd been glad she miscarried. The look on his face when she'd said those words still broke her heart.
But words can't be taken back.
Her fingers hesitated over the screen.
Then she tapped "Call."
It rang once.
"Riley?" His voice hit her like a gust of wind—familiar, low, steady. The years hadn't changed it much.
"Hi, Bryson." She cleared her throat. "I got your message. What's going on?"
A pause. "It's your dad."
Her chest tightened. "What happened? Is he okay? I just spoke to him last week." She squeezed her eyes tight, fighting the tears. Praying it wasn't the news that she knew deep down was coming, because Bryson wouldn't call if it wasn't the worst possible thing in the world.
"He died this morning." Another pause. "They think it was a heart attack. He was out in the vineyard. I found him. I'm so sorry, Riley."
