Page 47 of My Three Rivals

My frown returned. It would be a waste of money when I had Atticus’ Escalade out front explicitly for this purpose. I could almost hear him lecturing me on cost efficiency if I dared.

“I’m not in Sacramento per se,” I replied. “We have a winery and vineyard up the Golden Gate highway.”

Why was I babbling at this girl, giving her my life story?

At first, I thought I was just procrastinating in the shop, but I realized I wanted to spread the word about Five Penny now that it was starting to live up to its potential. We still had leaps and bounds to go, but at least I saw some light at the end of the tunnel.

Teresa blinked at me, her already wan face turning ashen.

“Winery…?” she whispered, backing away.

Curiously, I eyed her, wondering what I’d said.

“Yes. It’s in the middle of renovations right now, but you could still stop by for a tour,” I offered, hating my pitch voice. I wasn’t good at this. “I mean, assuming you’re twenty-one. I wouldn’t want to get shut down.”

I smiled, but Teresa did not find me remotely amusing.

“Excuse me,” she choked, rushing off.

Confounded, I stared after her.

“Was it something I said?” I mused aloud.

“You’ll have to forgive Teresa,” a man said from behind me.

I whirled around again and found myself facing a middle-aged bearded guy, also dressed in an orange apron. At first, I thought he was the manager, but I quickly realized that he was just another employee who had happened to overhear our conversation.

“It’s okay,” I replied, not wanting to get the girl in trouble. “I didn’t need any help.”

He frowned slightly. “You might not, but she sure does,” he muttered.

My temper flared at the comment.

“You’ve never had an off day, I suppose?” I asked haughtily as I eyed his nameplate.

Screw off, Dennis, before I report you for being obnoxious.

“Every day is an off day with that one,” Dennis insisted. “They shouldn’t have hired any of those broads. They’re all a mess.”

Torn between wanting to tear him a new asshole and my curiosity, I shamefully opted for the latter. “Any of what broads?” I asked caustically.

Dennis eyed me skeptically. “Really?”

I’d had about enough of Dennis and his smug stupidity. I could always Google what he wouldn’t say. But Dennis did say, and I was stunned to my core.

“They hired a bunch of pity broads after that incident… you know.”

I continued to stare at him dumbly, wanting to slap him every time he said the word “broads.”

“As eloquent as you are, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I finally growled.

Dennis sniffed scornfully. “The ones they rescued from that shipping container,” he whispered. “They were supposed to be sent overseas—”

“Woah, what?” I barked, stepping back. “You mean, like human trafficking?”

Now Dennis was as white as Teresa, my voice having carried down the aisle.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he mumbled, backing up to look all ways, in case anyone caught him chatting inappropriately with a customer.

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