"Bryson thinks he's pretentious. Devon thinks he's compensating for inexperience with big words." Riley's smile was genuine. "They're both probably right."
Brea glanced at her watch and stood. "I’m sorry, but I have to run. I had no idea how late it was, and I have an appointment with a fundraising committee in twenty minutes. Emery, help yourself to anything you need. Riley, don't let the boys intimidate her with too much on her first day." Brea bustled out, leaving Emery and Riley alone in the sun-drenched kitchen.The silence that followed was comfortable rather than awkward, filled with the domestic sounds of a settling house and distant birdsong.
“I wanted to chat with you about the interview I’ve set up with a local reporter,” Riley said.
Emery’s previous careers had forced her to learn to be comfortable in the spotlight. However, those situations never had anything to do with her personally. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I do.” Riley leaned back and held Emery’s gaze. “We know people enjoy gossiping, and they’re going to do it whether we like it or not. Going on the offense is better than being on the defense, trust me on this. It gives us a chance to control the narrative from the get-go.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Emery palmed her mug, staring into the dark liquid. During both her careers, she’d done many interviews. They’d never intimidated her before. But this one utterly terrified her.
"This must be strange for you.” Riley shifted on her stool, leaned forward, and rested her clasped hands on the counter. "Coming back to Stone Bridge after everything."
“Being anywhere in wine country would be difficult.” Emery took a bite of the cinnamon roll and nearly groaned with pleasure. "God, these are incredible. Your future mother-in-law is trying to fatten me up."
“I’m not engaged yet. I’m sure we’ll be taking that trip sooner rather than later. But for now, I just want to enjoy what Bryson and I have. It’s been a long road getting here.” Riley's expression grew thoughtful. "I know what it's like, starting over in a place that holds so many memories. It can be overwhelming."
“It’s not the childhood memories this place holds that’s making my return difficult. When I left after high school and my parents moved away, I never had any intention of returning. Iwanted to live in a big city. Something with crowds of people. Culture. Art. I grew tired of that real quick, and the job I took with Harold was supposed to be my ticket to something else. I loved it—even if my mentor turned out to be a dick.”
A flash of her father sitting at the kitchen table, her mother next to him, holding his hand, while he tried to explain what had happened.
The insurance fraud. The charges. The loss of his job.
The father she’d known—loved and idolized—had possibly committed a crime. One that could send him to a federal prison.
None of it made sense.
“I don’t really know Harold—only what Bryson and his family have told me. And while Harold has always had a solid reputation, they had their reservations about the way he’s handled a few things over the years.”
“I wish I had seen it all sooner.” Emery sighed. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m the one who went down for it.” Emery wanted to put the whole thing behind her—pretend it had never happened, which was why this interview settled in her chest like a bad cold. “Thank you for not jumping right to the conclusion that I did what I was accused of.”
“Almost thirteen years ago, I made decisions based on half-truths. It cost me Bryson.” Riley’s fingers tightened around her mug. "I'm sorry about everything you went through with the scandal. I can't imagine how devastating that must have been."
"Thank you. And I'm sorry about your father and the pending trial with your mom.”
A shadow crossed Riley's face. She glanced at her hands, fiddling with her thumb. "It's been hard. The whole family is still reeling."
Emery had watched from a distance and had heard whispers about the Callahan family drama—murder, fraud, andembezzlement that had landed Riley's mother right in the middle of it all. "How are your siblings handling it?"
"Better than expected, actually. Grant's struggling the most—he's always been the one who tried to hold the family together, so he's taking it personally—especially because he still feels responsible for my father’s death. No one blames him, but he can’t help it. He still tortures himself, and I don’t think he’ll be able to let it go until my mother is firmly behind bars.”
“It’s got to be awkward to run into her.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Riley said. “Fortunately, that doesn’t happen often since she doesn’t leave home that much. Not out of guilt, but because she doesn’t like it when people whisper behind her back. She’s tried to spin this, but no one in this town is giving her the time of day.”
“Not that I’m comparing, but people pointed and stared before I left three months ago. I’m afraid that might not have changed.”
“I’m here to fix perceptions, and what happened wasn’t anywhere near as bad as what my mother did.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that it was.” Christ. What a rotten thing to say.
“It’s all good. I totally understand,” Riley said. “While the whole thing sucks, it did bring me and my siblings together. Erin and I are closer than we've been in years, and the kids are adjusting. It's strange how a crisis can unite people even as it tears other things apart."
"Are you glad to be back?"
Riley's smile was soft, private. But the glimmer in her eyes told the entire story. "I'm glad to be home. I didn't think I'd ever be able to say that, but here we are." She gestured toward the window where the vineyard stretched into the hills. "And I'm especially glad to have Bryson back. In high school, everyonealways said we were perfect for each other, and it turns out everyone was right."
"I remember you two together. You were the couple everyone else wanted to be."
