Drunk on Love(89)

“What else do you need? What can I do?”

There was a knock at the door.

“Margot?” It was Elliot.

She dropped Luke’s hand and closed her eyes for a second.

“Yeah,” she said when she opened them. “I’m in here.”





Twenty-One


MARGOT TOOK A DEEP breath and stood up to face her brother.

“Do you want me to stay?” Luke asked in a low voice.

“No. Thanks.” She was too close to the edge to look at Luke right now. It would just make her want to lean on him, want to cry again, when she had to be strong for this conversation with Elliot. She’d known it was coming, she just hadn’t realized he’d come find her this soon.

“Okay.” He took a step away from her as Elliot walked into her office. “Um, I’ll go help Taylor.”

Elliot laughed.

“You don’t have to do that, Luke—did you forget you don’t work for us anymore? We’re so grateful for your help, especially with our friend Porter, aren’t we, Margot? But you should take off, we can handle this from here.” Margot tried not to wince at the mention of the drunk guy, but she could tell Luke noticed her reaction. She had no real choice but to agree with Elliot here, even though she wanted Luke to stay.

“Yeah, Luke,” she said, trying to make her voice even. “Thanks so much for all of your help today, but we don’t want to put you out.”

Luke kept his eyes on her, but she looked away from him.

“Congratulations on a fantastic party, both of you,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Margot met his eyes for a second at his last sentence. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she nodded. She dreaded this conversation with Elliot so much, but at least she knew that afterward, she’d get to see Luke.

He closed the door behind him when he walked out, and she turned to Elliot. Might as well get this over with.

“Come to gloat?” she asked.

She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter, but she couldn’t help it. Elliot hadn’t been able to wait until she’d dried her tears to get his I told you so in, could he?

He looked surprised.

“Gloat? About what?”

He was going to make her spell this out for him, wasn’t he? Elliot usually wasn’t an asshole like this, but he’d apparently been even more resentful about this party than she’d thought. Fine.

“The party? How it was everything you said it would be? Your friend Porter Eldridge, who turned Noble into exactly the kind of party winery you—and yes, our uncle—didn’t want this place to be. Until, of course, I, who didn’t deserve to inherit half of this winery, insisted that we have a party and proved you right? You don’t have to say any of it. You were right, I get it.”

Elliot took a step toward her.

“Is that how you think I feel? That one drunk guy ruined the party? I came in here to congratulate you. And to apologize, for what a killjoy I’ve been about this whole thing.”

She stared at him.

“Congratulate me? After what happened? That was my fault. I should have cut him off before he got to that point. And the pizza was late, and there wasn’t enough food, which is probably part of what caused him to get so drunk so fast, I should have—”

Elliot shook his head.

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Margot. Every party has a drunk guy. You were doing a million things today, it’s not your fault that one guy tried to make a scene. It wasn’t a big deal; we got him out of the way. Most people at the party barely noticed.”

That’s what Luke had said, but he’d just been trying to make her feel better. Why was Elliot saying this, too?

“Lots of people noticed,” she said. “And then there’s the Internet—people have already posted videos of the whole thing online.”

Elliot brushed that off.

“Aren’t you the one who always tells me that all publicity is good publicity? Plus, it’s Porter who should be embarrassed by that, not us. That’s not going to make people think any less of us, Margot.” He gestured toward the lawn. “The people here today were great. Most of the ones I talked to, at least. I didn’t want a party because I thought it would be full of Porter Eldridges, but these were all people who are just interested in wine. I probably should have realized that, if I’d thought about it—it was the same kinds of people who come to taste at our winery, something else I complained about and was wrong about. But there were also people who have been in our wine club for years, who just wanted to say hi, tell me how much they liked Stan, thank me—thank us—for carrying on his tradition. I didn’t realize how much I would enjoy hearing that, and talking to them.” He shrugged. “I even liked that reporter. She knew what she was talking about, and asked great questions.”

Margot sat back down on her desk. That was the longest speech she’d heard from Elliot in years. She could barely comprehend what he was saying, it was so unlike what she’d expected. She felt full of adrenaline, ready for this fight that had been brewing forever, but Elliot wasn’t giving it to her. She didn’t understand.

“Yeah, she seemed good,” she said. “And I know what you mean, about the people who came for Uncle Stan—they seemed happy to be able to celebrate him.” Her eyes filled with tears. Was Elliot mocking her, when he said all of that about how well the party went, and how he liked the people? “Even though I failed him today.”