Bitter Truth (Hawthorne Vines #1)

“Take your time, and just give a little wave when you’re ready,” he tells me, smiling again before moving to the other end to continue his conversation with another patron.

My eyes scan the menu but focus on the options from our vineyard.

I may not want to tie my future to the family business, but even I can’t deny that the wines our grapes produce are top shelf. You can’t grow up in wine country without becoming a bit of a wine snob, something my friends in LA always rolled their eyes at when I turned my nose up at their bottles of Two Buck Chuck from the local Trader Joe’s.

I know enough to appreciate that wine doesn’t have to be expensive to taste good. But if refusing to drink something that tastes like vinegar just because it’s cheap makes me a snob, so be it.

I flag down the bartender and order one of our cabernet francs from last year. I haven’t forgotten how much I enjoyed the bottle Micah sent to me. I brought it to a Friendsgiving in West Hollywood, and after one taste, immediately regretted that I couldn’t keep it all for myself.

In LA, I rarely had extra money to spend on things like nice wine, so I always savored the bottles from the family vineyard. Thankfully, just a few miles from my house, I don’t have to pay an arm and a leg to get a glass.

When a generously poured glass is set in front of me, I reach out to take it just as I hear my name.

“Hey, Murphy!”

I spin, grinning at my old friend as she hoists her very pregnant self up onto the stool next to me. She reaches out for a hug, which surprises me at first, but I almost instantly lean into it, reminded of the fact that Quinn was always a hugger.

“I’m so glad we’re finally getting together.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner after I moved back,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed about it. “I’ve been wanting to catch up, but everything’s just been … so crazy.”

Quinn shakes her head. “Don’t even worry about it. I could have called, too.”

I wave my hand at her massive belly. “It’s not like you don’t have other, far more important things on your mind.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m always looking for something that takes my mind off this pregnancy,” she says, just as the bartender stops in front of us.

“Miss Trager,” he says, grinning at her with almost fatherly affection. “Shirley Temple?”

“With lime, please.”

He nods and gets to work, and Quinn blushes. “I might not be handling the no-drinking part of growing a human very well. So Gabe makes me a Shirley Temple that almost keeps me sane.”

“Can I?” I ask, my hand hovering between us.

“Oh, sure!” she exclaims, her smile growing as she practically shoves her rounding belly into my hand.

“I mean, logically I know it’s been almost a decade but … I can’t believe you’re having a baby.” I feel a slight movement under my palm and I gasp. “It moved.”

Quinn smiles. “She’s very active. I think she’s going to salsa dance her way out of my vagina.”

I bark out a laugh, then laugh harder when I realize the bartender is standing across from us with Quinn’s drink and an uncomfortable expression.

“Thanks, Gabe.” She grins and takes a big sip. Then she looks back at me. “Mind if we go grab a table? These stools are murder on my back.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

We grab our drinks and find a booth. Quinn slides in and leans against the wall, her legs up on the bench.

“That’s better,” she says, letting out a big sigh. “All right, now tell me everything about LA! I’ve been following you on Instagram and things looked like so much fun.”

I lick my lips, gearing up to give her the watered-down, it was great but wasn’t for me speech that I’d prepared in my head on the way over here as a means of deflecting. The perspective she got from my social media accounts—the ones I’d curated as part of my hopes to catch the eye of a talent manager—definitely communicated that my life in LA was fun and wild and everything most people think of when they imagine pursuing a career in entertainment.

But as I take in Quinn, sitting across from me with that wide-open, caring expression, I know that if I’m going to really take Vivian’s advice and find someone to talk to, someone to truly call a friend, I can’t have the first thing I say be a lie.

“You know, some of it was good. But a lot of it was shit.”

She gasps and rests her chin in her hand. “Tell me everything.”