He nods slowly. “Okay, then let’s go and say hello.” He opens the door that leads to an open area—the kitchen, dining and living room. His mom is sitting in a recliner chair, watching the television.
She looks up at us and releases the foot of the chair. She is paler than the last time I saw her. “Charlotte. It’s lovely to see you.” She adjusts the beanie on her head and pulls the sleeves of her sweater low before standing.
I hug her lightly, scared I’ll bruise her. “Mrs. Johns. I hope it’s not rude of me to come, but I want to help in any way I can.”
She looks at Brandon and then back at me. “We appreciate it. Though, I don’t do much, love, other than sit in the chair.”
“I can make us meals, drive you around. Anything to be useful.” I catch Brandon’s smile out the corner of my eye.
“You can’t cook, Lottie.” He looks at his mom. “Don’t agree to it, Mum. She’ll poison us.”
We all laugh, and for the first time, I feel a tiny bit useful even if the jokes are about me.
“Here we go. The poor-little-rich girl puns begin.”
Brandon’s grin widens. “Left yourself wide open there. Leave the cooking up to me.”
I shrug my shoulders. “A girl can learn. Besides, I have other skills.” His face changes to wanting to say something funny, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at his mother.
“Guess it’s the right time to tell her about our venture.”
“The winery? I already know.”
His mom laughs as she lowers herself back in the chair. “She’s one step ahead of you, love.”
He shakes his head. “But she hasn’t seen it.”
“Then go, please,” his mom says quickly. “You’re interrupting my episode ofYellowstone.”
I look at the television.
“I’m learning all about America,” she says proudly.
“Oh, that’s not—” I stop myself and look at Brandon. “Show me where to put my suitcase, then shall we take a drive so I can see our new business?”
Already, my man looks a little brighter. “Sure. But remember, this time, I’m the CEO.”
I follow him out of the room and up the stairs to our bedroom. It’s small, with a window looking out to the ocean. “CEO,” I say quietly as I sit on the bed and bounce a little. “I’m looking forward to you bossing me around tonight.”
“Who said I’m waiting for tonight.”
43
BRANDON
In under an hour,we’re in McLaren Vale. It’s a peaceful drive compared to the traffic I’ve contended with living in bustling cities in the US.
“No more secrets,” Charlotte says quietly, looking straight ahead. “I know your world has been shattered, but you don’t need to face anything alone.”
We veer off the road and onto a dirt track. “I didn’t want to drag you into my problems when there was nothing you could do.”
“There is plenty I can do. And the first thing is getting this road fixed.”
I smile. “All right, princess. It’s happening next week.” She grumbles at me, but the view silences her. We get out of the car and stand beside the building, which will be the cellar door. There are rolling hills of different shades of green and yellow and a view straight to the ocean.
“This is stunning,” she murmurs.
“It is. I have plans for people to picnic out here with a play area for the kids. Inside, the décor will offer something unique, but the glass windows and doors with uninterrupted views will remain.”
