Home > Serves Me Wright (Wright #9)(7)

Serves Me Wright (Wright #9)(7)
Author: K.A. Linde

I hung my head. What the hell was I going to do?









“I think that’s all. Thank you so much for your time,” the reporter said.

“It’s my pleasure,” I said.

Jessie lowered her microphone, and the camera stopped rolling. Her smile was bright as she brushed her hair back off her neck. The Texas summer heat was definitely uncomfortable.

“That was great,” she said. “You’re a natural on camera.”

I laughed. “Nah, I’m sure I looked nervous.”

“Were you nervous? You didn’t look it.”

“Thanks. Is there anything else that you need?”

She shook her head. “We’re good. I’ll take this back and edit. Should air tomorrow. We’ll send you a link and the write-up.”


“Good to see you, Julian,” she said and then sauntered off with her cameraman.

I blew out a breath as soon as she was gone. I actually hated being on camera. Jordan was the one who did well with public speaking. He was better in front of a camera. Even though I had the charm one-on-one, it was a different matter in front of a crowd. But I was the face of Wright Vineyard. Jordan was counting on me. He’d handed over all the responsibilities, and I had to take up the mantle. That included getting over my nerves with public speaking.

I shook out my hands. A problem for another day.

I headed back inside and watched the end of the show. Our new manager, Alejandra, had tours set up for after the show along with coupons for customers to come back another day for a tasting. She was handling the rest of her team beautifully as Cosmere’s show ended and people streamed out of the venue.

“Congrats, cuz,” Morgan said as she strode backstage with Jensen on her heels.

My Wright cousins were a blessing. They were the part of my family that I’d never known I was missing. It was like having five more siblings. Always up in our business and meaning well and joking and laughing and ready for a good time. Jensen was the oldest and ran Wright Architecture, a passion project that he paired with Fortune 500 Wright Construction, which Morgan ran. Austin also worked there as a senior vice president with Jordan. Landon was the quintessential middle child and a professional golfer. He’d even started a PGA course here in town. Then, there was Sutton, who had rebelled against it all and ran a local bakery in town, Death by Chocolate.

“I didn’t know you were here,” I said, hugging Morgan. Then I shook Jensen’s hand.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” he said with a smile.

“We’re excited to build on the Wright brand,” Morgan said.

Jensen nudged. “No work talk.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Jensen crossed his arms in the typical big-brother move. “I’m older than you.”

She held her hand up. “Don’t care.” She winked at me. “Heard your dad showed up.”

I sighed. Of course that was why they were here. “He did. Yeah.”

“Everything all right?” Jensen asked.

“I don’t know. Jordan invited him.”

Morgan balked at that. “What? Why?”

“Crisis of conscience,” I volunteered.

Morgan laughed. “That’s something. So, is he here to stay?”

“I don’t know. He said that he’s a changed man.” I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t believe him, and I told him to leave. I’d guess he wants something, and he’s trying to get in with me and Jordan to get it.”

“Sounds like his MO,” Morgan said.

“I agree. He’s trouble. But maybe he’s being sincere,” Jensen said.

Morgan shot him a look of disbelief.

“I don’t support him. just mean…if I could have our parents back,” he said, his eyes meeting Morgan’s, “I’d do anything.”

“He’s not,” I insisted.

Jensen nodded, backing off.

Their mom had died from cancer when they were young, and their dad had died when Jensen was just out of college. He’d had to take over the mantle at a young age. I appreciated what they meant, but their dad wasn’t like my dad. Just because they were brothers didn’t mean anything.

“Well, congrats on the opening,” Jensen said. “Can’t wait to come back and do some wine tastings when I can get away again.”

“How are Emery and Robin?” I asked.

Emery had delivered a healthy baby girl last month by emergency C-section. Both were fine, but Emery had taken longer to recover.

“They’re both great. Her mom has temporarily moved into our guest bedroom. She’s been a big help with Robin,” Jensen said. “I know Emery’s ready to get up and get moving again.”

“I bet.”

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair,” Jensen said, shaking my hand again and then disappearing with Morgan.

I waved them good-bye and went to find Nora to help her close down the event. Nora was Hollin’s younger sister and the in-house event planner. She’d graduated from Texas Tech earlier this month, but she’d been interning with an event planner in town for a few years. She was a pro, and I was lucky to have her working with us.

“We’re all good here,” Nora said, patting down the bar top over an hour later when almost everyone had gone home. “I’m heading out for the night. I’m exhausted.”

She’d been working on the event night and day since she’d graduated. She’d gotten to the venue this morning at five a.m. and not stopped since then. She was a champ for only being all of five feet tall.

“All right. Have a good night. Take tomorrow off.”

She saluted me with a yawn and headed out. Jordan and Annie followed her, leaving just me and Hollin behind.

I took a seat on a barstool as Hollin hopped behind the bar.

“What’ll you have?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Too tired to drink.”

“That’s not the energy I’m looking for here, Wright,” he said, cracking a smile. “You don’t want me to choose for you.”

True. I really did not. “All right. Just a beer then.”

“Boring,” he said as he popped the top on a Blue Moon, poured it into a glass with an orange slice, and passed it to me. “Enjoy.”

I tipped the drink to him and took a good, long sip. Maybe I needed this more than I’d thought. Between Ashleigh, my dad, and the interview, I was wrung out.

“Good news, boys,” Alejandra said, striding forward in her mile-high heels. She’d worked all day in them, paired with a tight-fitting top and jeans. Her headset dangled from one hand.

“Yeah?” I asked.

Hollin’s eyes tracked her. There was no way that was happening. He’d said so when he hired her. Even if she wasn’t off the market, she’d bust his balls for even trying. “I like good news. Lay it on us, Villareal.”

“We’re booked out for tours the next two weeks.”

“Shit!” Hollin said.

“I know. We sold off a few cases of wine already, too. Not to mention, the admission costs more than covered the event, even with Cosmere’s fee.”

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