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“This Argentinian seems to have taught you well.”
“Sebastian,” I say. “And yeah. He did. He’s a phenomenal winemaker and an ardent conservationist.” Then I can’t help adding, “Mom would have liked him.”
Dad glances up at me. There’s no chill between us for once. He nods. “Yes,” he says. “I believe she would have liked this,” he holds up my presentation packet, “very much.”
Then he snaps back to business mode. “All right. I’ll look these over and give you an answer by next week.”
“Okay,” I say. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I take it out, hoping it’s news from Noah or an update from Isla about how her talk with the sheriff went. But it’s Alistair.
Congrats, big bro! Meet me in the lobby. Put your party pants on!
Then he sends a series of gifs of people popping champagne. I chuckle.
When I get to the lobby, Alistair is waiting for me. “You ready to celebrate?” he says.
“Where are we going?” I ask warily. You never know with Alistair.
“The Minton Club. It’s their Vegas Night. Champagne, caviar, drop dead gorgeous women, roulette, the works.”
“Gambling is illegal,” I point out.
Alistair pats my face. “You’re so cute. Have you forgotten what it’s like to be an Everton in this city?”
There’s a car already waiting for us in front of the building. The Minton Club is in Tribeca, so we slouch through midtown traffic as I tell Alistair about how my presentation went.
“I hope Dad greenlights this,” Al says. “I’ve already floated the idea around to some of our buyers and investors and people are interested. I really think this could change the trajectory of the winery, Cade. And if Mom’s murderer is found…that’s good PR too. Makes us sympathetic.”
“Don’t sound so much like Dad,” I snap. “Mom’s death isn’t about the brand.”
Alistair holds up his hands. “I know,” he says sincerely. “I want this asshole caught just as much as you do.”
As the car pulls up outside the club, I see other well-dressed New Yorkers entering. The building is smooth gray stone with a long green awning out front. Inside, we are led into a cushy elevator with some couple from the society pages who Al knows. There’s a legit bellhop who pushes a button for the top floor. When the elevator doors open, it’s like I’ve stepped into small casino. Roulette tables dot the floor, along with tables for blackjack and poker. Waitresses dressed like Playboy bunnies wander through the crowds with trays of drinks, and big band music plays through the speakers.
“Come on,” Alistair says, heading over to the long, curved bar that spans one side of the room. “Let’s get a drink.”
He orders us both negronis, then we head to play some roulette. Al gets an enormous stack of chips and pushes a bunch toward me.
“Let’s have some fun, brother,” he says with a grin and I laugh.
After a few rounds of roulette, I’ve lost nearly all my chips, but have had a great time hanging out with my brother. There’s an irresistible energy around Alistair—he draws people to him like a magnet. Women, especially.
“God, you’re bad at this,” Alistair says, laughing.
“It’s a game of chance,” I insist. “There’s no good or bad. It’s just luck.”
“Seems like I’m the lucky one tonight,” Alistair says as his eye catches on a beautiful blonde woman at another table. She smiles at him and he cocks his head, inviting her to join us.
I don’t feel like being a third wheel or a wingman.
“I need a refill,” I say, holding up my empty tumbler. But Al is focused on the blonde, now making her way over. I chuckle and head back to the bar, ordering another negroni and sitting on one of the plush leather barstools.
Women are shrieking with delight at the craps table off to my left and a few men puff on cigars at a nearby poker game. As fun as playing roulette with Alistair was, this is absolutely not my scene. I’d rather be at the Crooked Screw with Noah.
My throat tightens as I think how my days in Magnolia Bay are numbered. It’s a good thing, though. Isla has found her happiness with Luke. It’s time for me to find mine. Maybe I’ll start dating when I get back to Argentina.
I’ll miss Noah though. And working in the garage with Cody and Reggie. And I’ll miss my siblings most of all—even Von.
I finish my second drink and decide I am all partied out. I stand and weave through the crowds, looking for Alistair. I find him at a craps table, the blonde and another woman hanging off him, his tie loosened, his shirt undone at the collar.