Page 126 of The Bad Girl List

My family has always been here for me, even when I didn’t want them to be. I don’t even know if I’d be standing here with Dom if not for my dad and Thomas.

Tequila stays by my side, her ears flat against her head, but she doesn’t bark. I grab the basket of silverware and join Dom and Louise in setting the table. When Dom looks up and smiles at me, I know without a doubt that this is the first of many family dinners.

CHAPTER 43

Dog Daddy

DOMINIQUE

Six months later …

“Great work, Dom.” Megan Moretti smiles at me as she finishes watching the latest batch of TikTok videos I made. “These videos are getting a lot of traction.”

“I’m going to go out into the vineyards with Trevor tomorrow,” I say. “I think your subscribers will like seeing the head guy in action among the vines.He’s supposed to be burying the horns with the cow manure.”

“Dom!” Tim Moretti bustles into the family office. “Sorry I’m late. I just got off the phone with one of our major distributors in Texas. The new label design is a hit.”

“Really?” I lean forward eagerly. “Consumers like it?”

“Depletions have picked up by five percent, and the label has only been on the shelf for a few weeks.” Tim beams at me. “I knew I made the right move when I hired you.”

“Should I start working on sister labels for some of the other wines in the portfolio?” I ask. “I have been dying to get my hands on your Rosé label.”

“Design away,” Tim says. “If this first label is any indication of how sales are going to go, the distributors will be banging on my door for the rest of the portfolio to fall in line.”

“What did I miss?” Thomas pops his head into the office. He’s wearing slacks and a pressed button-down shirt.

“Look at you,” I say. “Looking sharp!”

Thomas grins. “Have to dress the part, right?”

“I’m sure every restaurant wine buyer between here and New York will swoon over you,” I tease.

Trevor had been the one to suggest their dad bring Thomas into the sales side of the winery. The big flirt is proving to be quite good at selling wine, particularly to restaurants.

“There is a lot of swooning going on,” Thomas says. “I have ladies lined up outside my door waiting for a chance to pop my cork.”

“Thomas.” Megan gives her son a scowl that doesn't quite match the bemused look in her eyes.

Tim bursts out laughing and slaps Thomas on the shoulder. I’m not sure anyone else notices, but I see a gleam of pride in Thomas’s eyes. He wants his dad to be proud of him.

“You need to get the new label in front of all your accounts,” Tim tells him. “See if you can get some more by-the-glass-placements. Our distributor in Texas is already seeing great results.”

“On it, Dad.” Thomas points a finger at me. “Nice work, Dom.”

When my bi-monthly meeting with the Morettis wraps up, I hop in my car and drive through the vineyard to Trevor’s place. It’s past six and he should be finishing up work any time now. As always, I am excited to see him.

The long-distance thing has been working out better than I could have hoped. Thanks to the money I’m making from my contract with the winery, I’ve been able to keep my studio in the city. We alternate driving every other week. Sometimes I stay with him a few extra days to have meetings with his parents.

My lease is up at the end of the month. I’ve been thinking about moving to Healdsburg so I can be closer to Trevor. I’ve landed a few other clients in the area thanks to word of mouth from Tim Moretti, and living in wine country makes more sense than it did before. I plan to ask Trevor about it tonight, to see what he thinks about me moving closer.

When I get to the bungalow, I spot Trevor’s truck. His Beamer and Tesla cars are back in the barn; he only brings one of them out when he drives down to San Francisco. If his truck is here, it means he’s home. Smiling to myself, knowing I’ll be kissing him soon, I grab my duffel bag from the trunk and head inside.

As usual, the back slider door is cracked.

“Hello?” I push the door open and step inside. “Hey, Trevor, you home?”

Silence. I notice the bungalow is freakishly tidy. Trevor has a habit of washing his dishes maybe once a week. He holds off on laundry until he runs out of underwear, which I tease him about whenever I get a chance.

---