“It’s a what?” Edie returned the now empty bottle to the table.
“A pissing contest. A show of superiority.”
“It’s juvenile,” Edie stated.
“Oh, absolutely, it is,” Foster agreed. “But no one ever accused a man in love with being mature.”
“Maybe one of you should talk to them.” Camille motioned between Ben and Foster. “Bring to their attention how ridiculous they’re being and how they’re unintentionally pushing Edie away with their childlike behavior.”
“We could, or Edie could be the one to do it,” Ben said. “It would mean a lot more coming from her.”
She knew that and had hoped to avoid it at all costs. Honestly, she figured they would pick up on her subtle hints and the fact that she consistently removed herself from every situation where they continued to debate. But they were too preoccupied with their own juvenile battle to give that any notice.
Ben was right. It needed to come from her, and soon because she couldn’t endure this back and forth of wills much longer.
With the bottle drained, she snagged Camille’s nearby glass and tossed back another long swallow for courage. “I’m going to take care of this.”
“Right now?” Tabitha’s voice pitched.
“Right now.”
Like the storm brewing outside, Edie stormed back into the dining room where the disagreement over white wines had somehow shifted into bellyaching about napkin colors.
“This needs to stop.” She planted herself on the opposite side of the massive dining table and slapped her hands to the surface with a thunderous clap.
Both Josh and Cal fell instantly silent.
“Edie?” Cal was halfway up from his chair, but Edie motioned for him to remain seated.
“I need both of you to listen to me right now, because I only want to say this once.”
Two pairs of stunned eyes blinked in unison, the only thing the men had yet to be in sync on.
“This arguing—this pissing contest—whatever this is needs to stop, because we have a gala to put on and it’s not just about us. It’s about the artists we will be showcasing, the ones displaying pieces they’ve worked months—some even years—to complete. It’s about the vineyards that are sharing their wines with us, at a deep discount, no less. It’s about the venue and the fact that this will be the first time they’ll be officially open to the public. Wehave a responsibility to so much more than just ourselves with this event. And right now, I think we’re focusing on the wrong thing entirely.”
Was that enough to knock some sense into them? Or did she need to implicitly spell it out?
“You’re right.” Josh relented first. “We’re not getting anything done by arguing over every last detail.”
Or by arguing over her, but that went without saying.
“I agree.” Cal gave a quick nod. “We’ve gone a little sideways and need to get back on track.”
“We’ve gone more than sideways,” Edie said. “We’ve gone completely off the rails.”
She waited for their disagreement,but it didn’t come, thank goodness.
“We have a long checklist of things to cross off, and we need to be on the same page in order to get it all done.”
Josh thumbed his chin. “I think the most pressing item is to decide who the proceeds of the benefit event will go to. The venue said once they’ve been paid and we’ve squared up with all the vendors, we’re welcome to donate any remaining proceeds to a charity or cause of our choice.”
“There’s an after-school art club down at the Seascape Shores Rec Center that could really use the funds to get up and going,” Cal suggested. Edie had heard of the program. She knew he volunteered there a few times a week.
“That could be a good fit,” she agreed, then passed a look over to Josh.
“I know Morgan could really use some of the proceeds. She’s starting an introductory class for young bakers and right now it’s all coming out of pocket. Since she’ll be getting some exposure as the caterer of the event, it might be a nice tie in too.”
Edie liked Morgan and she absolutely loved the sweets that came out of her bakery. It was an endeavor she would gladly support. “I’m sure we can allocate some funds to both programs.”
