Bitter Truth (Hawthorne Vines #1)

She tugs her purse strap over her shoulder and gives me one more smile and then heads out, leaving me mercifully alone for the first time in what feels like two entire days.

When I launched the advertisements about the server and hostess positions, there were only a trickle of legitimate responses over the first few days. The rest were spam messages or people with no experience.

But after I got connected with Memphis’s friend Ryan at KWNE, and he did a spot on the new restaurant and the open positions, I received dozens of inquiries from people with real hosting and serving experience.

I also received a bunch of unsolicited résumés from people looking for sous chef and prep chef positions, and I think some of that was due to Ryan mentioning Wes’s name as the new head chef. It wasn’t something I’d included in my notes, but I’m assuming Memphis had spoken with him about it.

It feels wild to me that people would want to work here because of Wes. But apparently in the culinary industry, Wes’s name means a lot.

I let out an exhausted sigh and stretch my arms high above my head. Then I begin sorting through the stack of résumés in front of me, weeding out the few that I know are not getting hired. That would include the college freshman who stared at my chest for the entire interview, the woman who scrolled on her phone while she was answering my questions, and the middle-aged guy who said he couldn’t provide a reference because he got fired from his last job for punching his manager.

Those are no-brainers.

Then I split the remaining dozen résumés into piles based on what job they were interviewing for and stack them in order of preference.

It takes me about an hour to read through them all again and look back at my notes. The two days of interviews are all blurring together and making a lot of the candidates merge into one.

After I make my decisions, the only thing left is to run everything by Memphis to make sure we’re on the same page. But when I pop into his office, it’s my father sitting in his chair.

He looks over when he sees me, then returns his focus to whatever paperwork he’s going through.

“What do you need, Murphy?”

I roll my eyes. It’s clear where my brother got it from.

“Just looking for Memphis. Do you know where he is?”

“I do not.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, and I bristle on the inside.

Before I can think better of it, I cross the threshold and approach where he sits at the desk.

“I can’t believe you would ever think about selling the vineyard.”

He doesn’t even look up at me, just continues staring at the paperwork in front of him. “I’m surprised you even care, considering how you couldn’t get away from here fast enough.”

Gritting my teeth, I try to remember what Wes said on our walk along the highway. About people not liking to feel vulnerable, and how they act selfish and insecure instead. And what Memphis said to me that first day home, about Dad not knowing how to talk when he’s deep in his feelings.

“Of course I care. Working the vineyard might not be what I want to do, but Memphis has spent his entire life dedicated to this place.”

“Memphis will be fine.”

“He won’t be fine. Why do you think he’s so desperately trying to get you to change your mind?”

“This isn’t your concern, Murphy.”

“Yes, it is. This vineyard means everything to Memphis. And Micah loves it, too. You can’t just throw that all away.”

It’s the longest conversation I’ve had with my father since returning home, and he’s barely looked at me since I walked into the room.

When he doesn’t say anything else, something inside me breaks.

“Look at me!” I slap my hands on the desk.

He startles, then looks up at where I loom over him.

“You have been preaching the importance of this vineyard to our family since the day we arrived. And now you want to just … sell it off? Like it means nothing? I don’t know what you think about me, or why I left or why I’m back, but honestly it doesn’t matter. You have two sons who have been working this land since they were old enough to hold a fucking shovel, and they deserve more from you than this.”