The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(16)

Dad looked at Honor and put his leathery, grape-stained hand      over hers. “For a long time, I think we’ve all taken Honor for granted.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“She puts in way too many hours, travels all the time, takes      care of a hundred different things,” Dad went on. “Which is why I hired you an      assistant today.”

She blinked. “You did what? Don’t I get a say in who works for      me?”

“Great idea, Dad,” Jack said.

“You can’t just—” Honor began.

“No, sweetie,” Dad went on, his voice quiet but firm. “Mrs.      Johnson and I talked it over—” Uh-oh. If Mrs. Johnson was in on it, she was      doomed. “And it’s done. Also, I think it’s appropriate that Ned—” Dad nodded at      his grandson “—take over half of the sales calls.”

“Half? Not half!” Okay, sure, she’d wanted a little change.      Just not this much. “Look, just because—”

“Finally,” Ned said. “Wish I’d known all I had to do was to get      Honor to punch someone in a barroom brawl—”

“Shut up, son,” Dad continued. “Honor, he’s been tagging along      with you for a year. Time to let him step up.”

“Um, that’s okay, sure. Neddie, you’re great. But we don’t need      to reorganize the vineyard because I had one bad moment.”

“Sweetheart, you were punching your best friend in O’Rourke’s      the other night.”

Honor paused. “I didn’t actually punch her.”

“I heard in school that you tackled her,” Abby said.

“I didn’t.”

“And threw wine in her face.”

“Um, I did do that, yes. More on her chest, but...” She glanced      at Levi, who was still in uniform. He raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

“What kind of wine?” Jack asked.

“A pinot noir from California. Flat body, too much pepper, high      acidity.”

“It’ll be cool, Honor,” Ned said. “You can be my boss.”

“I’m already your boss,” she pointed out.

“I’ll just be more useful. It’ll be good for me. I can mend my      sinful ways.”

“You’d better not be sinning, sonny,” Pru said. “But yeah,      Honor, he can help.”

“Sure. Fine.”

“I hired Jessica Dunn to be your assistant,” Dad added.

“What?” Jessica Dunn? The waitress? “That’s fine, Dad. No. Ned      is more than enough. He’s very helpful.”

“She has a marketing degree and wants to get some experience.      Figured she could do some of the media and whatnot.”

“Dad, do you even know what media is?”

“No, not really, but she said she could handle it.”

“Well, so can I! I don’t need her. No offense, Levi.” He and      Jessica were childhood friends. Everyone knew that.

“None taken,” he said, stroking Faith’s neck.

“She starts tomorrow,” Dad said.

“Dad—” Honor’s jaw was locked again. She loved that aspect of      her job—the press releases, articles, updating the website, running Twitter and      the vineyard’s Facebook page, schmoozing with the tourism bureaus, wooing      reporters, travel writers and wine reviewers. “I don’t need an assistant. Ned is      more than enough.”

“I don’t mind,” Ned said. “Jessica’s wicked pretty.”

“Not to you she’s not,” Pru said. “She’s way too old for you.      Got it?”

“Maybe she’s a cougar,” Ned said.

“Ned, you’re so disgusting,” Abby said, raising her head from      her textbook to glare at her brother.

“Honor, child,” said Mrs. Johnson, “whatever this media is, you      do too much of it. You work constantly, you eat at your desk, you have no      children for me to spoil, and it’s a shameful and terrible way to live.”

“No one was complaining last week,” she protested.

“No one was rolling on a filthy tavern floor last week,      either.” Mrs. J. gave her an arch look.

“You have an assistant now, sweetheart,” Dad said. “Enjoy      it.”

“But media is about half my job, and sales is the other half.      What am I supposed to do?” Honor asked, not liking that edge of hysteria in her      voice.

“Live a little,” Dad said. “Get some hobbies.”