Rare Blend (Red Mountain #1)

4. Ethan

CHAPTER 4

Ethan

THE SECOND CHOICE

F ifteen pairs of eyes stare at me like I’m the world’s biggest idiot.

“Meeting’s over. You guys are dismissed,” I repeat. Did they not fucking hear me the first time?

Alex, the foreman, clears his throat. “We usually do some stretches before returning to work.”

“Stretches?” What the hell is he talking about?

“Yeah.” His eyes dart around to the rest of the field crew nervously. “Your dad would lead us in some stretches. He said it helps with injuries.”

Oh, nice. Yet another thing my dad failed to mention. We’re five weeks into harvest, and this is the first I’m hearing about this. Granted, I’m also not a regular at these field meetings, but I’m trying to make more of an effort. Trying being the key word.

I nod at Alex. “Alright, how about you lead it?”

I make my way off to the side and let Alex take front and center. Fat fucking chance am I going to bend and squat and do whatever yoga-type shit my dad implemented, especially in front of this many people.

As I suspected, the stretching is a combination of your standard arm and leg stretches, sprinkled with some hippie- looking shit I’m assuming is yoga poses. A few years ago, my parents vacationed in Bali and my dad’s been into the stuff ever since. He’s probably the most flexible man in his sixties I know, so I’ll give him that.

Following the completion of their stretches, the crew disperses and I head back to the office.

Tawny, my admin—who’s also my cousin—greets me with a cheery smile. “Sooo,” she drags. “How did it go?”

“Fine.”

Her head cocks, and she looks at me like I’m a small child. “Use your words, Ethan. Grunts and single word sentences aren’t going to cut it.”

I really wish I could fire her purely for being annoying.

She remains standing in the middle of my office with her arms crossed, apparently waiting for me to elaborate.

“I don’t think they like me very much,” I admit.

She snorts. “Of course they don’t.”

My face contorts, and she tosses her head back and laughs.

Fired!

“I fail to see what’s so goddamn funny.”

She flops down on the leather chair. “You show up here, don’t so much as go around and introduce yourself to anyone, and suddenly you’re their boss. No shit, they don’t like you.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” I grit.

“Believe me, I know,” she says, scowling. “We all know, yet here you are. Better suck it up and get used to it.”

I feel a headache coming on. It seems to be a daily occurrence for me. The consequences of trying to fill my dad’s impossible shoes. In early summer, just as preparations for harvest began, my dad made an announcement that shocked the entire family—he was going to retire. We all knew he would retire one day, but we weren’t prepared for him to do so without even warning the family. We all assumed Gavin, the oldest of us siblings, would fulfill his legacy and run the family business, but he turned it down. He said his daughter Lily came first and that he couldn’t be both a good dad and run this place successfully. That’s how I, the second choice, ended up CEO and operations manager of Ledger Estate Winery and Vineyards.

I rub the bridge of my nose, trying to release some of the pressure. I was already being pulled in multiple directions the second I showed up this morning, and then the trail cameras caught a car plowing down the Syrahs, so I had to go deal with that, making me late to the afternoon field crew meeting and adding one more reason for the crew to not like me.

“What do I have on my calendar for the rest of the day?”

She pulls out her tablet and starts scrolling. “Surprisingly, that’s all for today.” Standing, she straightens her blouse. “If you’re hungry, Shane dropped off some lunch for you. It’s in the fridge.”

She starts to walk away but then spins on her heels to face me. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I fear I can no longer hold it in.”

My shoulders tense. Something tells me I’m not going to like what she has to say. “What is it?”

Crossing her arms, she inches closer. “You are not your dad. You’re your own person, and you don’t have to do everything just as he did it. Do things your way, make the job work for you and how you want to operate. No one is expecting you to suddenly become the gregarious Jack Ledger after a lifetime of being prickly, Ethan.”

“Is that little speech supposed to make me feel better? Because if so, maybe you should’ve practiced it a few times in the mirror beforehand.”

She tosses back her head, her eyes rolling to the ceiling in frustration before returning to meet mine. “Don’t be difficult with me, because I guarantee you will not find a better admin willing to put up with your mood swings. Just because we’re family doesn’t mean you have permission to treat me like I’m expendable.”

I have a nasty habit of lashing out at those around me when I feel any sense of pressure. It’s why I never wanted to be in charge to begin with. I was content with remaining in the background, quietly handling the financial end of the business. There are so many unspoken expectations put on me now, none of which I’ll ever live up to. I’m not charming like my dad, or friendly like Gavin, or funny like Shane. I don’t have an ounce of Ledger charm in my genetic makeup. What it all boils down to is I’ll never be enough, and it’s a tough pill to swallow.

I release a sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Just remember, I’m on your side. I want you to succeed, and success can look however you dictate. Be yourself, but maybe slightly friendlier,” she says with a small smile.

With that, she walks out, and I’m left alone with my nearly debilitating imposter syndrome and the four corners of my dad’s former office closing in on me.

I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I sat down to eat the fancy-ass sandwich Shane made for me. Surprisingly, it still tastes fresh despite sitting in the fridge for hours, well past lunchtime. Perks of having a chef for a brother, I suppose.

I’ve been up and going since well before the sun came up, and I feel it. My neck aches, my eyes are dry and heavy, and overall I’m completely worn out.

On the edge of drifting off at my desk, I’m shocked back to life by the loud shriek of my radio.

“Go for Ethan,” David’s voice blares.

I give my head a shake and rapidly blink until the blur goes away. “This is Ethan. Over.”

“We have repaired the damage at quadrant sixteen. Good as new. Over.”

“Thanks for the update. Ten-Four.”

My mind flashes to the woman from earlier. It wasn’t funny at the time, but now, thinking back on it, it’s pretty fucking funny. I’ve never seen so much fire spit out of a five-foot-nothing little thing. I’m used to pissing people off, but very few give it right back. It wasn’t until she was digging for her insurance card, bent over with her ass in the air, that some of my anger started to dissolve. Those leggings of hers left little to the imagination. I quickly averted my eyes, because it felt wrong to check her out while also being on the verge of yelling at her. In truth, she barely caused any damage, but I had to scare her straight. These damn tourists need to learn to stay off back roads with their ill-equipped vehicles. Maybe I could have been slightly less of a dick, but after a week of one thing after another going wrong, I’d had it. Not that it matters. I doubt I’ll be seeing her again.

For the next hour, I fight the desire to fall asleep and force myself to answer a few emails from distributors and forward a few others to my management team, delegating as much as I can, so I don’t fuck up anything.

A tap, tap, tap has my eyes looking up to see my sister, Elyse, filling the door frame.

I can tell by the look on her face that she’s not here for a friendly visit.

“Did you get one of these?” She slaps a white envelope on my desk.

I look down at it and then back up at her, slowly nodding my head. “Yeah, I got one.”

“Can you believe that bitch?!” she practically yells, the anger radiating off of her like waves from a scorching sun.

“Elle,” I chastise.

She throws up her hands. “Don’t start defending her now. As a girl’s girl, I can confidently say we do not claim her.”

The headache that was slowly fading comes back with a force.

“Sometimes I don’t know what half the shit that comes out of your mouth even means.”

Ignoring my comment, she continues her rampage. “I mean, not only did she cheat on you with your best friend, now she’s going to marry him!? Bitch . And to invite us, the gall.”

“I know the story. I was there, remember? And I don’t care. They can do whatever they want.”

She groans. “Why aren’t you matching my energy on this? Be mad, throw something, punch a wall.”

I laugh, because what else can I do? I saw the envelope yesterday when I checked the mail and immediately knew what it was. Not many envelopes show up stark white, trimmed in gold, and addressed in swirly calligraphy. I would’ve preferred not to be invited, and I’m still working on figuring out their angle. They both know there’s no way in hell I’m going to that wedding.

“I’m done with all of it,” I say. “I don’t give a shit anymore.”

She rolls her eyes. “God, you’re so sensible. It’s disgusting.”

Elyse is dramatic, to say the least.

I was angry for a really long time, but all that anger did was make me feel worse. I upended my life because of what happened between Laura and me, thinking if I moved away from it all, I could pretend it never happened. But as it turns out, you can’t run away from your problems. They follow you, no matter how hard you try to escape them. When I accepted this new role in the family business, I made a choice to let it go. Does it suck? Yeah, it’s humiliating. But I can’t let it dictate my life anymore. I’ve got other things to worry about now, none of which include my ex and former best friend.

“Do you have a reason for being here, or are you just throwing a tantrum over a wedding invitation?”

Elyse’s eyes narrow, and her lips draw together. “You should’ve stayed in Woodinville. You’re already annoying me.” She hands me the folder that was tucked under her arm. “I need your signature of approval for a corporate holiday retreat we’re hosting in December.”

Elyse is the event coordinator for the winery, which mostly hosts weddings, and she’s pretty damn good at it. My little sister, the ball-buster who could easily make a grown man cry and rarely dates because she doesn’t put up with shit. Yet somehow, she manages to work successfully with loving couples and plan romantic weddings. It’s as if she can switch into a completely different person.

“Since when do we host corporate retreats?”

She shrugs. “Since some ritzy company is willing to pay us a fuck ton to do it.”

I glance over the contract. I trust Elyse. I don’t ever feel the need to scrutinize her decisions; she’s the most meticulous person I know. I flip to the last page, sign it, and hand it back to her.

“Happy doing business with you,” she chirps on her way out. “I leave tomorrow for a wedding expo in Vegas. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Have a safe trip,” I tell her.

Sundays are reserved for the weekly Ledger Family Dinner, one of the few times I allow myself to double up on my anti-anxiety meds. Five siblings, two meddling parents, and my six-year-old niece. Individually, they’re fine; all together, they’re pure chaos.