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“Yes,” his mother agreed without hesitation.
“What does that mean for the CEO position?”
She lifted the pitcher and refilled his glass. “Your dad managed the company and his family. Being a father doesn’t mean you can’t run the vineyard as well if that’s what you want.”
“A father,” Griffin repeated, a little stunned at the words.
“That’s what you’ll be to him. We’re his family now.”
Griffin nodded. Cassie had told him she didn’t know who Joey’s father was. She’d been an only child and her parents had died in a car crash when she was seventeen. She had no siblings and no relationship with any extended family.
“I need to talk to Trevor,” he said, almost to himself.
“He’s still angry at you for leaving.” Jana’s mouth pulled down at the corners. “At Marcus for wanting to wait for you to take over his job and at me for supporting him in that decision.”
“Maybe Trevor has a point.”
His mother shook her head. “He’ll understand once you explain about Joey. I’m surprised the news didn’t sway Maggie.”
Griffin looked out the kitchen window. It overlooked the backyard, which included a large flagstone patio, built-in grill, seating area and a stone fire pit. Beyond that was an expansive yard with ornamental grasses and beds of perennials. It was the only part of the property they kept properly manicured.
He’d have to build a play set for Joey, as the one he and Trevor had used had been removed years ago. Maybe a tree house too. He’d always wanted one in the big maple tree in the corner, but his father never had time.
“I didn’t mention it,” he said, turning his back to his mom.
“Griffin.” The word was a soft admonishment.
“I couldn’t guilt her into taking me back.”
“You hurt her badly.”
“I get that.” He felt a muscle tick in his jaw and pressed two fingers to it. “Maybe I didn’t understand while I was in Seattle, but I do now.”
“So you’re going to let her go?”
He squeezed shut his eyes then opened them again. “What other choice do I have?”
“You could fight for her.”
“What do I have to offer?” He lifted a hand, ticking off all the areas of his life that were in chaos. “I’m the guardian of a boy who just lost his only parent and will barely make eye contact with me. I have no actual job at the moment and I’m back to living with my mom.”
“Maggie moved in with her father when she rented her house before the wedding.”
“That’s temporary.”
“So is this,” she reminded him. “You have a job if you want it, Griffin. You have a place at Harvest. You always have.”
He laughed at the absurdity of that statement. “Not when Dad was alive.”
“He would have come around eventually,” his mother insisted.
“Doubtful.”
“This isn’t about your father. You love Maggie.”
“Who knows if what I felt was even real. I’m not sure why I thought I’d be able to make a relationship like that work in the first place. My track record is spotty at best.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
He stepped forward and drew his mom in for a quick hug. “You give me too much.”
A faint sound drew his attention to the far side of the room. Joey stood in the doorway, clutching his blanket in one hand with his other thumb shoved in his mouth.
“Look who’s awake,” Jana murmured with a smile.
“Hey, buddy.” Griffin plastered the biggest, brightest smile he could manage onto his face. “Did you have a nice nap?”
The boy shrugged.
“Would you like to make some cookies?” Griffin’s mother asked. “I have ingredients for chocolate chip or peanut butter. Which do you like best?”
Joey stared at her for a moment then popped his thumb out of his mouth. “Peanut butter.”
Jana let out what sounded to Griffin like a relieved sigh. She’d probably wondered if the boy would even answer her. “Peanut butter it is.”
Joey stepped into the kitchen, the corner of his tattered blanket trailing across the travertine tiles. “Are you going to make cookies?” he asked Griffin.
“Um...” Griffin glanced at his mother then back to Joey. “I’d love to, but I need to do a walk-through of the vines before I meet with Marcus...” He paused, then clarified, “He’s the man who runs the vineyard right now and I’m going to help with his job now that we’re here to stay.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” his mother whispered, squeezing his arm on the way to the pantry.
“I want to come with you,” the boy mumbled.
Jana stilled.
“Are you sure?” Griffin scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I’m just walking through fields, checking on rows of grapevines. Your... My... Ms. Jana here is offering an amazing afternoon filled with sugar and chocolate chips and—”
“I like it outside,” Joey said simply.
Griffin glanced at his mother, who smiled and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “All those years when you’d try to follow your dad around while he worked. Who would have ever thought you’d be in his shoes?”
She meant the words as a compliment. A fond reminiscence of her late husband. Because of that, Griffin didn’t correct her. But he wanted to. He wanted to shout and rail that he was nothing like his dad. If Joey wanted to shadow him in the fields, he’d let him and the afternoon wouldn’t be filled with lectures and admonishments.
“Do you have boots?”
“Nope,” came the boy’s answer.
“Your gym shoes will suffice for now, but you’ll need something sturdier as the weather gets colder.”
“What’s sur-fice?” the boy asked, his little brows furrowing.
“They’ll be okay until we get you new shoes,” Griffin clarified.
“Can the new ones have basketballs on them?”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
“Does that mean yes or no?”
Jana laughed then covered it with a cough. Griffin shot her a glare then returned his attention to Joey.
“It means I’ll try,” he told the boy.
Joey cocked his head, like a puppy studying his owner after being told to sit for the first time. The seconds ticked by, but Griffin didn’t dare move. Somehow this moment felt like a test, and he’d never been great at tests.
“Okay,” his new ward answered finally, and the tightness in Griffin’s chest eased slightly.
Maybe trying really would be good enough.
“I’ll have cookies waiting when you get back,” his mom promised.
“Thanks,” he told her and hoped she realized it was for so much more than just the promise of cookies.
His first instinct was to take Joey’s hand, but he worried that would cause the boy to shut down. So he inclined his head toward the door. “Follow me and pay attention. Today is your first lesson as an apprentice vintner.”
Joey fell into step a pace behind him. “What’s a vintner?”
“Someone who makes wine.”
“What’s wine?”
Griffin shook his head as he led the way out the front door and started toward the hill that would take them down to the estate field, Inception, the first his father had planted. “It’s grape juice for adults.”
“I like chocolate milk,” Joey reported.
“Of course you do.” The boy had no idea what he was talking about, but he was talking. The mere fact made Griffin smile for the first time in weeks.
With a little luck, he’d get his life back on track sooner than later.
Chapter Two (#ufd7b6a34-8da0-567b-aac3-bdc22955640d)
Maggie glanced around the illuminated town square later that night. Just as Jacob promised, everything looked perfect. She was relieved and grateful that so many residents had attended the lighting of the town Christmas tree and were now taking part in the Winter Wonderland festival. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of which event was happening on what night. Stonecreek’s community calendar was as jam-packed as a socialite’s in the middle of the Season.
But they were a small town without any big industry or corporation to anchor them. Tourism was a huge deal, all year round. The popularity of Harvest Vineyard helped with that, especially during the fall. That fact didn’t make her breakup with Griffin any easier, just as it had complicated calling off the wedding to Trevor in the spring. Somehow she and their mother had managed to keep a friendly working relationship. Jana Stone had even become something of a mentor to Maggie, although they hadn’t spoken much in the weeks since Griffin left for Seattle.
She hoped that could change now that he’d returned, whether or not he chose to stay. Maggie liked having an experienced woman to talk to and bounce ideas off since she was trying to pull back from discussing town business with her grandmother.
Grammy meant well but it was often difficult for her to remember that she’d retired from the position of mayor, and although Maggie loved her, she wouldn’t be a puppet to her grandmother’s whims regarding how the town should be run.
“Everything looks beautiful.”
Maggie whirled around to find her grandmother standing directly behind her, Christian Milken, the CEO of LiveSoft, at her side.
Grammy frowned. “Mary Margaret, are you blushing?”
Maggie pressed a hand to her cheek and smiled at them both. “No, of course not. I think it’s the cold.”
“It’s still nearly fifty degrees,” her grandmother pointed out. “Unseasonably warm for December.”
“I’m wearing a coat,” Maggie said, even though the light jacket she’d worn over her red fit-and-flare dress offered little warmth, as it was more for fashion than function. She shrugged out of it anyway.
“That’s a lovely dress,” Christian said.
“Thanks.”
“I’m curious to know what you were thinking of just then.” Grammy shook her head and lowered her voice to a whisper. “No time to sit on your laurels, girly. We started off the competition with a bang but we’ll need to keep up the full-court press if we’re going to convince LiveSoft to choose Stonecreek.”
“Right.” Maggie offered an awkward smile to Christian. Even Grammy’s quiet voice had a way of carrying. Now she really was blushing, embarrassed that her grandmother had so quickly and carelessly reduced an evening of holiday cheer to something almost mercenary in nature.
Yes, she wanted to win the competition—her town could use the influx of revenue and jobs. What town couldn’t?
But tonight was also about having fun and kicking off the holiday season. Maggie loved Christmas. Some of her fondest memories from childhood, before her mother’s death, were of how special the holidays had been. They’d cut down a real tree out in the woods every year, strung popcorn as garland and sung carols around the fire. Her mom had been a fantastic baker, and Maggie had been so proud to deliver cookies to neighbors and friends.
She’d tried her best to keep some of the family traditions alive once her mom died, but it hadn’t been easy. Then she’d gotten busy with her own life and it felt like her family had lost something precious. She’d moved back to her house two weeks ago when the tenants she’d rented it to had decided to return to Alabama a few months early. But she’d vowed to make this Christmas extra special for her younger siblings, Morgan and Ben, and their father. Along with her extra work on the town’s campaign for LiveSoft, she hoped to keep herself so busy she wouldn’t have any time to miss Griffin.
“I need to talk to Dora about the uneven icing on her cookies,” Grammy said, already looking past Maggie. “Mary Margaret, entertain Christian please.” Without waiting for an answer, Vivian walked away, much like Maggie imagined the queen would after giving an order to one of her faithful servants.
“I used to know how to juggle,” she told Christian with a shrug. “But I’m pretty rusty and fresh out of props.”
“Know any magic tricks?” he asked, raising a thick brow. “Or a good knock-knock joke?”
Maggie laughed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. But I do know the ladies over at the high school boosters’ booth make the best hot chocolate in town. Would you like to join me for a cup?”
“That sounds perfect.”
She glanced at Christian out of the corner of her eye as they got in line at the booth. He was handsome in a country-club sort of way, short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He was always clean-shaven from what she’d seen and favored tailored shirts and pressed jeans with expensive-looking loafers.
She’d done her research on the CEO, born and raised in Boston to a former senator and his homemaker wife. Christian had attended private schools and then graduated from Harvard before moving to the West Coast to start LiveSoft. He’d been one of the company’s founders, although she remained fuzzy on his role in developing the app. However, he’d become the face of the brand and was thought to be responsible for much of the company’s meteoric growth.
In fact, social media and marketing were his specialties. The public campaign to help choose the company headquarters had been his idea.
“I hope you enjoyed tonight,” she said, inclining her head toward the towering Christmas tree in the center of the square. “And not just because of the competition, despite what Grammy would have you think.”
“It was great,” he said. “Very Norman Rockwell.”
“We’re all community spirit around here,” she said, then cringed. “I hate that everything I say to you sounds like I’m selling Stonecreek.”
“I don’t mind,” he insisted. “We were in Timmins last night and they tried to manufacture snow and ended up causing a minor flood in the elementary school gym.”
