And I’m glad we did.
“This is Boone,” Walker says when he picks up my call.
“Walker, hey, it’s Eli,” I say as I back out of the parking space. “You were right. That kitchen is much too small for Lia. She’s already struggling with her baking. You got a kitchen space she can use?”
“You know I do. What’s going on?”
I pull my vehicle around to Lia’s car and motion for her to follow me. “Long story, but Lia’s headed to my place to eat lunch with me and Amber. If she’s up for it, I figured we’d come by the vineyard afterward so she could see the kitchen space. She’s a bit nervous, but I think I can convince her to get out there just to take a look at it. Would that work for you?”
I hear him bark some muffled commands out before his voice returns. “See you in an hour.”
“See you then,” I say as I hang up the phone.
Now, to feed my two hungry Omegas.
Walker
The call with Eli barely disconnects before I’m already dialing Knox.
He picks up on the second ring.
“Tell me you’re free,” I say, already walking out of the office and into the gravel path that cuts through the vineyard.
There’s a pause on the other end, then a grin in his voice. “I mean, was gonna take a nap for my lunch hour.”
“I’ll pay you whatever you want to get your ass out here. Now.”
That gets his attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say sharply. “Yet. That third kitchen I’ve got, the one near the barrel house. Oven’s still running hot on one side.”
“I thought you shut that one down until further notice.”
“I did. I need it operational.”
Another pause. “Why?”
“Because I was right about that dinky little kitchen at Lia’s new place. She’s coming here in an hour to look at the kitchens, and I want every single one of them ready for her.”
Knox doesn’t hesitate. “On my way. No charge.”
“That’s not?—”
“I said no charge,” he repeats. “See you in twenty.”
The line goes dead.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and exhale slowly through my nose, forcing myself to refocus as I make my way down the row. The afternoon sun shines brightly, gilding my grape vines in gold.
It’s growing season. Busy. Demanding. Everything is running on tight schedules and even tighter margins until we can get to harvesting season and turn our profit.
Just the way I like it.
“Boss man.”
I stop and turn as Marcus, the vineyard general manager, jogs up beside me. He’s got his clipboard tucked under his arm. “The truck from Dayton’s running late. Says they’ll be here closer to six.”
“Push the unloading crew back an hour,” I say without missing a beat. “Make sure cold storage is cleared by then.”
