His smile was warm. “She takes care of herself. I just gave her a place to do it.” He gestured toward a small room in the corner. “Walk with me.”
The office was cluttered but organized with stacks of papers, harvest reports, and a whiteboard covered in production schedules. He closed the door and rested against the desk.
“I’ll get straight to it. Are you planning to stick around?”
“Yes.”
“Even if she tells you to leave?”
“She won’t.” I held his gaze. “But if she did, I’d find somewhere nearby.”
He studied me for several seconds, then his shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch and he uncrossed his arms—small shifts, but I read them clearly enough. I’d passed some kind of test.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Anticipating this conversation, actually. You’re an Avila. Your family’s been making wine in Paso Robles for generations. You’ve got knowledge I don’t have and connections I can’t buy.”
“What are you proposing?”
“Consulting work. Think of it as a strategic partnership.” He moved around the desk and lifted a folder from one of the stacks. “Whitmore is good, but we could be better. I want to expand our distribution and refine our reserve program. I could use someone who knows this industry from the inside.”
I’d come prepared for a protective father figure telling me to stay away from Isabel, not a job offer.
“I’m not looking for charity,” I said.
“Good. I’m not offering it.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “I’m offering work. Fair compensation. And something to keep yourself busy while you’re here. After that, all I can tell you is, sleep while you can.”
I chuckled. “You speak from experience.”
“Five times, in fact. I’d tell you that you sleep more once they’re older, but I’d be lying.”
“I’m sure my mom would agree.”
“So, what do you think?”
“I’m definitely interested,” I said. “I’m not sure what I can bring to the table, but I’ll help in any way I can.”
“Good.” He set down the folder and opened the office door. “We’ll talk details once you’ve had a chance to settle in.”
The sun washigh in the sky when I left the production building. The vineyard stretched out in front of me, winter-bare but well-tended. I’d never worked anywhere other than Los Caballeros, and I was by far the lowest person on the sibling totem pole. It might be nice to have the chance to offer an opinion to someone who would value it in a way I doubted my brothers would.
I was halfway back to the cottage when I passed Bas heading toward the production building. He gave me a short nod—the kind you give a stranger, not someone you’d met the day before—andkept walking.
My phone rangwith a call from Tryst before I made it back to the cottage.
I almost let it go to voicemail the way I had Snapper’s. But Tryst wouldn’t reach out without a reason.
“Hey.”
“Kick.” His tone was even and unhurried, like it always was. “I heard you found Isabel.”
“I did, and I’m sticking around.”
“Good.” A pause. “Baron’s been in touch. He’s not happy about being kept in the dark.”
“I told him she was safe. That’s all he needs to know right now.”
“I agree. But he doesn’t see it that way.” He exhaled slowly. “He’s called a meeting. He wants thecaballerosto find you both.”
My stomach dropped. “And?”
