Which leaves Emma as the deciding vote between her brothers. Again.
"Emma's caught in the middle," I say carefully. "That's not an easy position."
"I know." Brennen collapses into a chair, all his nervous energy suddenly deflating. "It's not fair to put this on her. But I need this, Miles. This expansion—it's not just about thebusiness. It's about continuing our family's legacy. Building something that lasts. Something for the next generation."
The way he says "next generation" makes my chest tight. I take another sip of wine to cover my reaction.
"She'll make the right decision," I tell him. "Emma always does."
Sophie exchanges a look with Alex that I can't quite read. Then she turns to me with an expression that's far too knowing for comfort.
"Speaking of Emma," Sophie says slowly. "She's been acting strange lately."
My hand tightens on the wine glass. "Strange how?"
"At the last tasting, she dumped a whole glass of our best Pinot in that ficus." Sophie gestures toward the decorative plant in the corner, which does look suspiciously healthy. "Looked green when she did it. Like she was about to be sick, Emma, not the plant."
I file this information away with growing suspicion.
"She also left early," Alex adds, checking his clipboard like he's reading from notes. "Said she had a client emergency. But I saw her sitting in her car eating. For like twenty minutes. Just sitting there. Eating."
"Maybe she was hungry," I suggest weakly.
"At eleven in the morning?" Alex raises an eyebrow. "After dumping out wine without tasting it?"
Brennen sits up straighter. "Wait. Emma didn't taste the wine? She always tastes the wine. She's our quality control."
"She didn't taste anything," Sophie confirms. "Just kept making excuses. Said she had a big lunch planned. Then mentioned she was fighting off a cold. Then something about needing to drive later. The excuses kept changing."
"You think something's wrong with her?" Brennen's panic is shifting from professional to personal. "Like medically wrong?"
"I think Emma's dealing with something," Sophie says diplomatically. "And maybe giving her some space would be good."
"But the vote?—"
"Will happen when it happens." Alex sets down his clipboard with finality. "Brennen, pressuring her won't help. Trust me. Pressuring women never helps."
"He's not wrong," Sophie agrees, kissing Alex's cheek.
The door to the tasting room opens and Ryan walks in, looking every inch the successful CEO in his tailored suit. He must have come straight from a meeting.
"Why does everyone look like someone died?" Ryan asks, heading straight for the wine selection behind the counter.
"Emma won't return my calls," Brennen says miserably.
"She won't return mine either." Ryan pours himself a glass of the Cabernet, tastes it, nods approvingly. "Keeps cutting our video meetings short. Yesterday she hung up mid-sentence. Said she had to handle something urgent, but I heard a toilet flush in the background."
I nearly choke on my wine.
"A toilet?" Brennen looks horrified. "She's taking meetings with you in the bathroom?"
"She claimed it was in the office supply closet." Ryan shrugs. "I didn't ask questions."
Sophie and Alex exchange another one of those looks.
"Is Shadow Strike too much for her?" Ryan asks me directly. "Should I get another lawyer? I don't want to add to her stress if she's drowning."
"She's not drowning." I set down my glass. "Emma's the most capable person I know. She's just busy."
