Page 106 of One Week Wingman

I laugh. Flynn and Piper have been bickering for months, but I don’t know… They seem to get awfully riled up around each other, in a way that makes me wonder if there’s something more going on beneath the surface.

But tonight, it’s all about family and friendship, so I bring Piper over to meet my folks, and Franco, and soon, all the arguments are forgotten.

“It’s amazing, what people will pay just to have their weddings here,” Franco is saying. “We’re already booked through next summer, it’ll pay the price of all the equipment upgrades I’ve been wanting to make.”

“See, I knew this partnership would work,” Natalia says, smiling.

“Ah, you’re just relieved you won’t have to handle the place if I drop dead in the vines,” Franco jokes, patting her hand.

“Maybe you should put Roxy in touch with the wedding parties,” Piper speaks up. “Didn’t you say that your band is booking more events?”

I nod. “That’s a great idea. And weddings pay great,” I add. The band is still keeping things casual, just playing local venues, weddings, and bar mitzvahs, but it’s been so fun just to enjoy playing music with other people, getting used to a crowd.

“They sold out their last show,” my mom says proudly.

“Because it was a tiny club, with room for like, fifty people,” I protest.

She tuts. “Even The Beatles started small. Just you wait.”

I smile. Once she got over the shock of me joining an honest-to-goodness rock band, she’s surprised me by turning into one of our most devoted fans, driving into the city to see my shows, and even manning the merchandise table, selling T-shirts when our regular guy goes on a cigarette break. “You should see her rock out to our Killers covers,” I tell the others. “Phil, too. He’s a regular headbanger.”

They all laugh, as Sebastian joins us. “Who’s banging what now?” he asks, looking around. “Phil, have you been getting down and dirty with your new power tool collection?”

“Hush, Sebastian,” Mom scolds him happily. “Or should I say, Stefano?”

“Stefano has departed us,” I say firmly. “May he rest in peace.”

“At the bottom of his well,” Seb adds, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

Explaining to my parents about the whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable conversation, but Sebastian was able to deploy his charm super-powers to smooth everything over. Now, Mom treats it like one big joke. Of course, it helps that I have a real-life boyfriend, and she still gets to send me clippings about engagement planning and my rapidly declining fertility.

Some things never change.

The group takes a seat for dinner at the long dining table, ready for a feast. Sebastian is beside me, an arm resting over my shoulder. “How does it feel?” I ask him. “Now you’re officially a business owner here?”

“Scary. And exciting. And also a big responsibility.” He admits.

“Kind of like dating me,” I joke, and he kisses me.

“No, that part’s all good.”

I sigh happily, enjoying his embrace. The past couple of months have been a dream, getting to know each other all over again, delving deeper, and stripping back the layers we’ve kept as a defense against vulnerability and failure. I don’t have to hide anything from Seb, or pretend to be something I’m not.

Irony, I know.

Franco gets to his feet at the head of the table, and everyone quiets. “Many of you know I wasn’t sure about taking on a partner here at the vineyard. This place has meant everything to me, half my life, and the thought of giving up even a little control… And to some cocky, flashy New York City playboy, too. Well. I was not impressed, to say the least.”

Everyone laughs and Seb raises his glass, grinning.

“But, then I found out, he wasn’t just cocky, but stubborn, too.”

“Like you,” Natalia calls.

Franco grins. “He convinced me to hear him out, and I’m glad that I did. Because it’s clear, this is a man with a passion for wine—and life. Welcome to Modesto Vineyards,” he says to Sebastian, raising his glass. “I can’t wait to see what the future holds.”

Everyone cheers, applauding the deal, but when I turn, I find that Sebastian is only looking at me. “To the future,” he says, raising his glass to mine in a private toast.

Our future.

---