Once Upon a Wine (21 page)

“Everyone thinks you're so nice, but you know what? You are
not
nice,” Kat hollered. “You are the opposite of nice!”

Josh hollered right back. “At least I didn't run away and cross state lines because I'm afraid of a little conflict!”

“You want conflict? Well, here you go!”

Cammie retreated to the driveway. “How long have they been at this?”

“At least an hour.” Ginger leaned down to pet Jacques, who was snorting and whimpering. “Kat came home upset last night, Josh showed up at the crack of dawn, and it's been nonstop ever since.”

“Is that why you're still in your jammies?”

“I was trying to enjoy a nice cup of iced coffee,” Ginger said, aggrieved. “But I had to flee my own home because those two can't behave like civilized adults.”

Cammie glanced at her aunt's empty hands. “What happened to your coffee?”

“I abandoned it on the kitchen counter after World War Three broke out.”

“Want me to go get it for you?”

“It's not worth the emotional trauma,” Ginger said, but Cammie dashed inside anyway.

On her way to and from the kitchen she heard Kat shout, “How could you let me spend thirty thousand dollars on a tractor when you knew I had no money?”

“Let you?” Josh sounded incredulous. “
Let you?
How was I supposed to know you'd buy a tractor?”

Cammie emerged into the daylight, iced coffee in hand. “Good call on canceling the wine tastings.”

Ginger sipped her coffee. “I'd just like to go in and get dressed sometime before noon.”

“Well . . .” Cammie sat down next to Jacques and gave the worried pup a little kiss. “Don't worry—your mom and dad won't fight forever.”

“I don't know,” Ginger fretted. “They certainly seem to have a lot of stamina.”

•   •   •

At various intervals over the next hour, Ginger and Cammie scurried into the house and tried to avoid getting caught in the cross fire. When Cammie ducked into the kitchen to grab a snack, she heard:

“I trusted you to take care of my money!”

“You made me do it by refusing to do it yourself!”

When she darted in to grab a book for Ginger:

“What am I supposed to do now? Sponge off you until I line up some judging gigs?”

“It's not sponging when we're married, Kat. We're supposed to be a team—you never got that!”

When she had to use the bathroom:

“So you're telling me that that ancient, rusty tractor—the tractor I can't even drive—is the sum total of my assets right now?”

“That's right! I hope you enjoy it!”

After she was safely back outside, Cammie reported, “They're not making any progress. We could be out here all day.”

Ginger glanced at the sun, high in the sky. “Should we go get some lunch?”

“We might as well.” Cammie escorted her aunt into the house. “Hurry up and get dressed. I'll cover you.”

As they tiptoed up the stairs toward the master bedroom, Ginger murmured, “Should we call the police on them?”

“For what?” Cammie asked.

“For disturbing the peace.”

Cammie froze on the landing as she realized that the yelling had ceased.

They heard Josh's voice, deep and clear: “We're not disturbing the peace.”

“We're
communicating
,” Kat clarified.

“Okay, well, we're grabbing a quick change of clothes,” Cammie called back. “Don't mind us. Carry on.”

Kat and Josh did exactly that.

“You don't love me!” Josh said.

“Of course I love you.” Kat sounded thoroughly exasperated. “Just because I want to kill you doesn't mean I don't love you!
You're
the one who doesn't love
me
!”

“I do love you! I've told you that a million times! Why are you so stubborn?”

“I'm not! FYI, while you were busy hiding all my financial losses from me, I was buying pink lingerie to seduce you!”

Another long pause ensued. “You were?” Josh asked.

“Yes! Trying to prove what a great wife I am. Like an idiot!”

Josh's tone changed. “Can I see it?”

Ginger turned to Cammie. “Let's go. I'll just wear my pajamas to lunch. It's fine.”

“Go outside. Save yourself,” Cammie instructed. “I'll find something in your closet and meet you at the car in two minutes.”

•   •   •

After a leisurely lunch at the Jilted Café, Cammie and Ginger wandered over to the Whinery for a glass of iced tea. While they snacked on miniature candy bars, Cammie checked the vineyard's brand-new social media accounts.

“Jacques is going to be a superstar.” She showed the most recent posts to Ginger. “Look, Kat gave him his own Twitter and Instagram
accounts, and he's getting a ton of followers, thanks to the
Ladies First
posts. Our little snaggletooth is Internet famous.”

“I don't know about all this social media,” Ginger tutted. “It seems like it's never enough.”

“Well, it's definitely not enough yet.” Cammie hesitated, then shared the idea she'd been mulling over for a few days. “How would you feel about giving away a weekend trip to the vineyard?”

“To whom?” Ginger asked.

“To some random person who follows Jacques on Twitter.”

Ginger looked scandalized. “You're suggesting we let a random stranger stay at our house?”

“I'm suggesting we put a random stranger up in a swanky hotel,” Cammie corrected.

“But how?”

“What we need is a corporate sponsor,” Cammie said. “Like Kat used to have in skateboarding.”

“Well, before we can put this random stranger up in a hotel, we'll have to get them to Delaware. How are we going to do that?” Ginger challenged.

“I'm still thinking through all the details.”

“Maybe Kat could use some of her frequent-flier miles,” Ginger said. “Or, ooh, maybe we could find a sponsor with a private jet!”

“Let's try to keep this in the realm of reality,” Cammie said.

“What do you need a private jet for?” Jenna placed a stack of pink napkins next to the candy dish.

“Oh, we're just daydreaming.” Cammie explained her sweepstakes idea. “We want the winner to have an experience we can showcase on social media.”

Jenna gazed up at the crystal chandelier, thinking. “Well . . .”

Cammie thought about the night she'd just spent at the inn by the sea. “I'll talk to the owner of the Better Off Bed-and-Breakfast. Maybe she'd be willing to comp us a room for a night or two.”

“We could give her some wine,” Ginger suggested.

“Marla doesn't drink.” Jenna shook her head. “But if you're serious about wanting a private jet, I could make a few phone calls.”

“You know someone who has a private jet?” Cammie unwrapped a tiny Twix and popped it into her mouth.

“I sure do. And he's really nice. Really nice and ridiculously good-looking.”

Cammie and Ginger exchanged glances. “I take it you and this jet guy have a history?”

“No.” Jenna's eyes were wistful. “But he used to hang out here all the time. He doesn't come here much anymore. Not since he got married.”

“That's too bad.”

“It's fine.” Jenna started to slice up some lemons. “His wife still comes here all the time, and she's even nicer than he is.” She picked up the phone. “I'll give her a call right now.” A few seconds passed; then Jenna pressed the receiver to her ear. “Hey, Brighton, it's Jenna. Remember how I was telling you that the vineyard just outside town has new owners? Well, they're sitting at my bar, and we have a question for you.”

“B
righton!” Jenna rushed out from behind the bar as a cute, curvy brunette strolled in. “I haven't seen you in forever! Have you guys been in Montana?”

“We got back last week.” Brighton's cheeks flushed. “We've just been, um, busy.”

“I'll bet. How's Rory?”

“Sweet and clueless, as always.” Brighton addressed Ginger and Cammie. “Hi, I'm Brighton Sorensen.” She offered a handshake to Cammie, who noticed her engagement ring was a bright orange gemstone instead of a traditional diamond. With her windblown hair, unmanicured nails, and casual cotton sundress, Brighton didn't look the way Cammie imagined someone with a private jet would look. Her hazel eyes were warm and friendly.

“I like your ring,” Cammie said.

Brighton's eyes got even warmer. “Thanks.”

“Brighton is a genius with jewelry,” Jenna said. “She—”

“Let's not get sidetracked with all that,” Brighton said. “Jenna says you ladies need help, and if Jenna is willing to help you, I am, too.”

“Like I said, she's awesome,” Jenna told Cammie. “Brighton, what can I get you to drink?”

“Just water, thanks.” Brighton turned to Cammie and confided, “I have a bad track record with booze here.”

“What are you talking about?” Jenna cried. “You have a great track record! The first time you got drunk in here, you married the man of your dreams.”

Brighton laughed. “It sounds so simple and romantic when you put it that way.”

“You met your husband here?” Ginger beamed. “That's lovely.”

“Sort of. I was in a white-hot rage at the time and I married him for spite, but it all turned out great.” Brighton thanked Jenna as the bartender handed her a glass of water. “Anyway, enough about my sordid past. Jenna says you need a jet. You're welcome to use ours.”

“We haven't worked out all the details yet,” Cammie said. “So we can't give you dates or locations.”

Brighton shrugged. “Just shoot me a text when you do.” She pulled out a business card and wrote down her cell number.

Ginger frowned. “Don't you have to ask your husband?”

“He'll say yes.” Brighton winked. “Trust me.”

That was way easier than Cammie had imagined. “Thank you. That's incredibly generous. We'd be delighted to give you some wine, even though you don't drink.”

“Ask for the strawberry wine,” Jenna advised.

Brighton finally got around to asking what they needed the jet for.

“We're trying to get some publicity for our wine,” Cammie explained. “Right now, it's a very small brand. To the point of being nonexistent. I thought we could launch a contest on social media. You know, win a weekend at a vineyard.”

“Fun,” Brighton said.

“The problem is, now that I'm thinking about all the details, I'm not sure we have the budget. Even if we get the jet taken care of, we'll still need to provide lodging—”

“We really should give the winner some kind of entertainment, too,” Ginger chimed in.

“And meals. And maybe some shopping,” Cammie added.

“It's going to be a huge project,” Ginger concluded. “A huge expense.”

“And a huge opportunity,” Cammie said. “We need to think bigger. Black Dog Bay has everything you need to survive a breakup, right?”

“Right.” Jenna said. “It's not just a town; it's an experience.”

“You're right,” Cammie mused. “It's an
experience
.” She turned to Ginger. “We should put together a whole Breakup Bonanza.”

Ginger brightened. “Ooh, that's better than a boring, luck-of-the-draw sweepstakes.”

“People can send in their bad breakup stories,” Cammie continued. “Best—by which I mean worst—story wins.”

Brighton sipped her water. “Well, it's a good thing I won't be entering, because you'd have to close the contest down. No one could beat my breakup story.”

Jenna considered this. “That's probably true.”

Cammie lifted her chin. “I bet I could beat it.”

“I doubt that.” Brighton looked cheerful about this.

“Try me.”

“Ooh, this is great.” Jenna rubbed her palms together. “Breakup showdown.”

“We could make brackets, like they do for March Madness,” Ginger suggested.

“My fiancé dumped me over a stupid fight about traffic, and married a stranger that same night,” Brighton said.

Jenna smiled fondly. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“My boyfriend was the chef in my restaurant and deserted me for another kitchen while I went bankrupt,” Cammie countered.

Jenna sucked in her breath. “A worthy opponent.”

Brighton and Cammie appealed to Jenna. “Well? Which is worse?”

Jenna drummed her fingers on the bar top. “That's a tough call.”

“We
will
do brackets like March Madness.” Cammie started scribbling ideas down on a napkin. “We'll choose semifinalists and let people vote online.”

“I love it,” Ginger declared. “As long as a stranger isn't staying in my house.”

“Now we just have to hit up all the local businesses and plead our case. We'll come back tomorrow and let you know how it goes.” Cammie hopped off her barstool and prepared to pound the pavement. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Ginger said. “Right after we run home and make sure the house is still standing.”

•   •   •

The house was still standing, but it was eerily silent, as though it were holding its breath.

Cammie climbed the stairs and tiptoed down the hall. She hesitated for a moment in the low-ceilinged hallway, then knocked lightly on Kat's door. “Kat?”

On the other side of the door, she heard rustling and a low, masculine murmur.

“Just a sec,” Kat called.

Cammie took a step back. “Oh. Never mind, I'll come back later.”

But the door opened and Kat poked her head out. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair looked as messy as Cammie's had last night. She was wearing Josh's university T-shirt and no pants. “Hi.”

“Oh, good, you're alive.”

Kat stretched her arms over her head, lazy and languorous. “I'm great. We're great.”

“So Josh is alive, too?”

His voice drifted out. “Hi, Cammie.”

“The pink negligee was a hit.” Kat combed her fingers through her hair.

Cammie took another step back. “Great. Fantastic.”

“Yeah, Josh and I have never gotten quite so—”

“Keep the details to yourself.” Cammie hastened to change the subject. “So, no pressure, but later on, after you've, uh, collected yourself, I want to bounce a new marketing idea off you.”

“Okay.” Kat adjusted the neckline of her T-shirt, inadvertently exposing a fresh hicky. Cammie looked away, stifling a smile. “It can wait?”

“For a little while.”

“Good. Right now, Josh and I are going down to the barn.”

“Do I need to hide all the sharp implements?” Cammie was only half kidding.

Kat laughed as if this were the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. “Of course not. We're just going to work on the tractor.”

“You are?”

“Yes.” Kat's afterglow dimmed for a moment. “Apparently, that tractor is all I have left to show for fifteen years of professional skateboarding.”

Josh spoke up from inside the room: “I told you I was sorry about that.”

“I know you are, honey.” Kat squared her shoulders. “Since the tractor's what we have, that's what we'll focus on.”

“We're going to get it up and running,” Josh confirmed. “It's going to be great.”

Cammie tried to figure out what had changed. “Okay, but you
were screaming like banshees about that tractor a little while ago. I couldn't help overhearing.”

“Mistakes were made,” Kat conceded. “By everyone. And we'll be pursuing every legal option to try to get my money back. But in the meantime, we have dead vines to pull.”

“The here and now,” Josh intoned.

“Sounds like you've got it all figured out.” Cammie started back down the stairs to let Ginger know it was safe to return.

“Yeah,” Kat called after her, “I think we do.”