Drunk on Love(90)

Elliot shook his head again.

“Why do you think that? And why did you say that, when I came in here? About not deserving to inherit the winery. You know that’s not true.”

She rolled her eyes at him. It felt juvenile, but she couldn’t help it.

“Oh, come off it, Elliot. We both know that’s how you feel, no matter how nice you’ve decided to act today.”

He stared at her.

“That’s not how I feel. Why do you think I feel that way?”

She was so tired of this. Tired of this constant low-level conflict, tired of feeling less than, tired of always pushing herself and always coming up wanting.

“I think you feel that way because that’s what you said! But even if I hadn’t heard you say it, I’m not stupid, you know, even though you seem to think that. You’ve made your feelings about this—about me—crystal clear.”

“I don’t think that!” Elliot never raised his voice like this. She always wished he would, wished she could get a rise out of him, but she never could. Until now. “I don’t think you’re stupid, how could I? You run this whole place! And I don’t think you didn’t deserve to inherit the winery!”

The memory came back so sharply she had to fight back tears again.

“I heard you say it! At the funeral. Right there in the hallway. Talking to Jimmy.”

Elliot sighed. He sank down in the chair in front of her desk.

“Oh. I’d forgotten about that. I wish you hadn’t heard that.”

She got up and moved to the chair behind her desk, just to get some distance from him, to feel in command of this situation, at least for a moment.

“Why? I’m glad I heard. At least I knew what I was getting myself into.”

He shook his head.

“No, Margot, you don’t understand. I—”

“You’re not going to try to tell me that you didn’t mean it, are you?” she asked him. “Because I heard you. I could tell you meant it.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment.

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to try to tell you that. I meant it. Then. I was angry then, at Uncle Stan, and yes, at you. I was angry and bitter and grieving and confused. I did mean it then.”

He looked up and across the desk at her.

“But Margot, I haven’t felt that way for a long time. You work your ass off for this place, you understand things I would never be able to figure out in a million years, you understand people. I know that I’ve fought you on so many things, but you’re usually right. That doesn’t stop me from fighting you, but I’ve gotten better about it . . . at least somewhat. Just look at today—yes, you’re right, I didn’t want to have this party, and it was great. Even I could tell that, and I don’t like parties! All of these people were excited to be here, our staff was happy, it was a good day. You should be proud of yourself.” He smiled at her. “Uncle Stan would be. Is.”

The tears started falling from her eyes again, but this time they felt so different.

“But I thought—” She reached for her tissue box. “For the past three years, I’ve thought . . .”

Elliot rubbed his hand over his face.

“That’s why you’ve been so weird and prickly with me. I just thought you didn’t want to hang out with your big brother anymore. I wish you’d said something.”

She wiped her tears.

“Me, too.”

Elliot shook his head.

“But when were you supposed to say something? In the hallway at the funeral, with Jimmy there to overhear you yell at me and me just getting quiet and mean? That would have made things even worse between us.”

She laughed at the accuracy of how they both would have acted, and then sighed.

“I know. But some other time, I should have found a way, instead of just silently seething.”

Elliot stood up.

“Instead of getting mad at ourselves for the past, how about we agree to never do that shit again? Either as business partners, or family?”

She stood up, too, and walked around the desk to him.

“Let’s shake on it.” She held out her hand and grabbed on to his. They shook hands, and then he pulled her into a hug.

“The handshake is for my business partner. The hug is for my sister. I’m sorry, Margot.”

She hugged her brother tight.

“I’m sorry, too, Elliot.”

He took a step back.

“Now—how about we go back out there and finish cleaning up from this great party? There are a bunch of open bottles of wine—I hope it’s okay that I told the staff to take them home.”

She grinned.

“As long as ‘the staff’ includes me. I’ve been looking forward to drinking some wine on my couch tonight all day.”

He put his arm around her as they walked out of his office.

“Well, I’ll have to check with our CEO on that. She’s very strict about these things.”

She laughed as they walked back to the lawn. She couldn’t wait to drink that wine on the couch. With Luke.



* * *





WHEN LUKE LEFT MARGOT’S office, his first impulse was to stand outside of her door and listen to whatever went on between her and Elliot. So he could burst in and protect her from her brother if he said something mean to her? No, Margot would hate that. He made himself leave the building and walk out to the lawn.