Rare Blend (Red Mountain #1)

11. Ethan

CHAPTER 11

Ethan

WAITING FOR ME TO FAIL

M y mom is working the tasting room, something she rarely does these days. But we had two call-ins, and she was available to fill in on short notice. When I get to the tasting room to check on her, I see she’s happily chatting away, totally in her element.

It’s not until I’m on the other side of the bar, standing next to my mom, that I realize who she’s talking to.

It’s Marisa. Marisa and Jenn. And I’m completely unprepared.

Marisa’s eyes flick to mine and then flick away, as if she’s unsure of how to act. That makes two of us.

My mom clears her throat, rousing me from my stupor. “You remember Jenn.”

I blink a few times to try to gather my bearings.

Pull it together.

“Yes,” My voice croaks like I’m going through puberty so I clear my throat, trying to mask it. “Good to see you.”

Jenn and my mom have been friends for years, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen her.

“Everyone is so happy you’re back,” Jenn says.

I give her a nod. The last thing I want is to talk about that shit, least of all in front of Marisa.

Marisa’s brows furrow, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she brings the wineglass to her lips and takes a delicate sip. My eyes can’t help but track the movement, watching as her throat bobs. How a droplet of red liquid lingers on her bottom lip before her tongue darts out and swipes it off.

My mouth dries, and I swallow roughly, feeling the acidic burn all the way down.

“Has Ethan given you a tour of the grounds yet?” my mom asks, looking between Marisa and me.

Marisa shakes her head and sets down the glass. “No, he hasn’t.”

The back of my mom’s hand smacks my chest. “Show her around. That’s your job.”

I fail to see how CEO and tour guide fit under the same umbrella. “I think she’s more than capable of walking around herself.” I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but I would prefer to not spend any more time with Marisa than necessary. If that makes me appear rude, then so be it.

My mom snaps her head at me. To an outsider, she looks perfectly pleasant, but I can tell she’s seething. Her flared nostrils say it all. She gives an awkward laugh. “Harvest is so busy, he barely has a moment to himself. I’m sure once things calm down, he would be more than happy to show you around. The estate is a lot larger than it looks.”

Marisa’s smile falters, and she dips her head, noticeably avoiding looking at me.

Pulling the attention away from me, my mom sighs contentedly and leans over the bar counter toward Jenn and Marisa. “Do you guys want to snack on a charcuterie or anything?”

Jenn eagerly nods, already reaching for the menu on the bar top.

Marisa’s shoulders lift. “I’m still pretty full from lunch, but I could do a light snack.”

“Did you grab lunch while you were in town?” Jenn asks Marisa.

Marisa’s gaze latches with mine, and her lips begin to curve up but never fully form a smile. Instead, her teeth pull at her lower lip and she withdraws her eyes away from me. Her lips are incredibly distracting. “I had tacos.”

She had my tacos. That I bought her. But she leaves that part out.

I start polishing a glass that doesn’t need to be polished, feeling the urge to keep my hands occupied.

While Jenn has her head buried in the menu, my mom zeros in on Marisa. “So, Marisa, do you know how long you’re planning to visit? Your dad mentioned you’re on the hunt for a new job.”

My interest is piqued, and I hold my breath, waiting for her to answer. It’s not as if I care. It would just be good to know so I can begin counting down the days until I have some of my privacy restored.

Marisa lets out a breathy, humorless laugh. “I’m not sure, if I’m being honest. The job market in my field is over saturated, and I didn’t part ways with my previous employer on the best terms. Hopefully soon, though, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

My mom refills Marisa’s glass, giving her a very generous pour, more than what is standard for a tasting. “Well, the cottages aren’t going anywhere, so don’t worry about overstaying your welcome, and I’m sure your dad is happy to have you for a long visit.”

Marisa nods, her lips pulling into a tight line. It’s a cross between a smile and a grimace. There’s a story there, one etched in the shadows of her eyes and the tension in her posture. I’m eager to know more, but I don’t dare ask. It’s none of my business, and the less I know, the better.

A rowdy group in the corner accidentally breaks a glass, bringing my awareness back to the now-crowded tasting room.

In the time since I’ve been here, the crowd has nearly tripled in size.

One of the tasting room attendants rushes over to clear up the mess. Multiple conversations mingle together into one loud hum. Forks drag across plates, glasses clink, shouts and laughter blend into a clamor that presses in on me. My heart races, and my breath comes in shallow, rapid bursts. I’m overstimulated and overwhelmed.

In an attempt to regain some control, I try to focus on one voice, one sound, but it’s too late and I can’t grasp it. The room spins slightly, and my grip on the glass I was polishing loosens, sending it crashing against the countertop. Glass shards spread across the marble. The sound is jarring, amplifying the tight knot in my chest.

My mom, unfazed, simply grabs the small dust pan and brush kept under the counter and cleans up the mess, never pausing her conversation with Jenn. Meanwhile, Marisa’s eyes meet mine and she gives me a small, sympathetic smile. It leaves me feeling stripped down and exposed, like she can see everything I’m feeling in one look.

My vision narrows, the noise in the room growing more deafening with each passing second. I need to get out of here. Now.

I rub the back of my neck. “I have a meeting I need to get to.” The lie falls easily.

My mom eyes me, aware that I’m teetering on the edge of a panic attack, and simply nods. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

Remembering the tasting room is full of scrutinizing eyes, and that there’s always someone paying attention, waiting for me to fail, I muster all the energy possible to pull on the mask. “It was nice seeing you, Jenn. And you, Marisa.”

With my sweaty palms clenched in fists to prevent the tremor in my hands from being noticeable, I smile and nod to the faces I’m sure I would recognize if they weren’t all a blur and calmly walk out. My breath holds until I’m far enough away for the murmur of voices to fade.

Once the exterior door shuts, closing me off from the tasting room, my lungs deflate. Cool air from the northern breeze hits my face, and my heart rate begins to slow.

I can’t remember the last time my anxiety was that bad. Usually, I’m able to manage myself better than that. It’s been years since it took over so strongly. Had I not been so distracted by Marisa, I would’ve noticed the growing crowd and made a swift exit before it got to that point. Further proof that keeping my distance from her is best.

“She has to go,” I tell my dad the next day at dinner.

He chuckles, looking amused. “Who?”

He knows exactly who I’m talking about. “Marisa. Robert’s daughter. You didn’t even bother to tell me you and Robert made that arrangement. I don’t appreciate you going over my head.”

His smile fades, replaced with a pointed look. “I’m still on the board, son. My mistake for doing a favor for a good friend. Would you have said no? Or are you just pissed off about it now because she’s a pretty young woman?”

“I didn’t— This has nothing to do— Her looks are irrelevant.”

His eyes look up at me over the glasses resting on his nose, and his mouth lifts with a yeah right smile.

Rather than continue to argue with the man who can’t be ruffled, I storm off to the living room.

Marisa is a distraction I don’t need. I can’t have someone like that living so close to me. I chose the cottages specifically because they were vacant. I could’ve moved in with my parents or one of my siblings, but I didn’t because I like my space. I like solitude. The last thing I need is a woman too beautiful for her own good prancing around. I’m already stressed out enough as it is.

“What’s with the face?” Shane asks as he flops down on the couch.

I rub my temples. “Nothing. Dad being dad.”

He shrugs, uninterested. “Hey, so I heard the new chick is hot.”

From one conversation to the next, I can’t seem to escape her. Although this is Shane, he could be talking about anyone.

“What new chick?” I ask, indulging him.

“Robert’s daughter. My boy Andy saw her at Novel yesterday. Said she’s a sexy little Mexi.”

My brain grabs on to that last word. “Don’t call her that. It sounds racist as shit.”

His eyes widen. “It’s not racist,” he practically yells. “It’s a compliment.”

“Who’s being racist?” Elyse asks, walking in with Ariana right behind her.

Shane sits up. I can tell by his red, flushed skin that he’s getting worked up. “What I was saying before this fucker called me a racist, is that Robert’s daughter, who happens to be Latina, is fine as fuck.”

“Her name is Marisa. Call her by her name,” I tell him.

All eyes turn to me. Elyse, in particular, looks way too interested.

“She’s my neighbor,” I explain. “Dad has her staying in the cottage next to mine.”

“Talk about easy access,” Shane says. “So, you gonna hit that, or can I call dibs?”

“You’ve never even met her,” I say, my voice rising.

Shane cackles. “So? I will eventually. And I’m calling dibs.”

I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. Murder is wrong. Murder is wrong. “No one is calling dibs. Keep your dick in your pants. You know how close Mom and Dad are to Robert and Jenn. Have a little respect.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Fine. I won’t hit on her. You suck the fun out of everything.”

“I met her,” Ariana chimes in. “She seemed nice.”

Great. That’s the problem with Red Mountain. It’s too damn small to escape anyone, especially when they’re your neighbor.

The front door opens, and Gavin walks in with Lily, effectively moving us on from this ridiculous conversation.

“There’s my favorite girl,” my dad says, walking toward Lily.

Lily wiggles her hand out of Gavin’s and races to our dad, whose arms are wide open for her. “Grandpa!”

He catches her in a hug and lifts her. “Come on, Lily Bear. I need a hand in the garage. You know how to check the oil in a car, right?”

She giggles. “Nooo.”

“Sheesh, what’s your dad been teaching you?” he says as the door to the garage closes behind them.

“Oh, you know, just how to be a good person,” Gavin says, with his head thrown back, looking at the ceiling in frustration. Our dad enjoys teasing Gavin a little too much, because he’s the only one of us that’s a parent. Gavin hates it. He sits in the leather recliner and leans all the way back in it, looking exhausted. He always looks so fucking exhausted, it’s no wonder he turned down the job.

We all hang out in the living room, bullshitting. The only one missing is Layla, because she’s away at school. I skipped a lot of Sunday family dinners while I was away, and I’m realizing how much I missed this. My siblings drive me crazy, and growing up with them was total mayhem, but I’m glad to be back and seeing them a lot more often.

“Food’s ready,” our mom shouts from the kitchen.

“When are you going to let me cook family dinner?” Shane asks our mom as we all take our seats at the dinner table.

She laughs like it’s a ridiculous question. “Just because we trust you enough to handle the dinner shift at the restaurant doesn’t mean you get to cook in my kitchen. You can cook family dinner when I’m dead and not a day sooner.”

Dad and Lily walk back in from the garage, Lily sporting grease and motor oil stains all over her clothes.

“Dad. Come on. She had that outfit on for like five minutes,” Gavin cries out.

He shrugs. “Kids get dirty, son, I don’t know what to tell you.” He shoots Lily a wink, and she preens under all the attention.

Following dinner, I wash the dishes. I’ve found it’s a task that soothes my restless mind. The warm water and rhythmic motion help me unwind, giving me a moment of peace. But that’s not the case today. My dad has Gavin and Shane in the backyard, measuring for a new shed while Goose runs circles around them, and Elyse and Ariana are playing dress up with Lily, leaving me wide open for an ambush from my mom. She wanders into the kitchen, the schemer that she is, cornering me while my hands are drowning in hot, soapy water.

“How are you feeling?”

I keep my focus on removing the hardened cheese coating the inside of a casserole dish. “What do you mean?” I know exactly what she means.

“Are you taking your medication?”

“Every day.”

She leans against the counter, and I don’t miss the concern on her face, despite avoiding eye contact.

“I worry about you.” Her voice is quiet. “If it’s too much, we can figure something else out.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I say dismissively. I understand that she’s concerned, but I’m not interested in being coddled. I also have no desire to discuss options for someone else to take over. Failure in this is not an option.

She picks up one of the washed dishes and starts towel drying it. “Are you still talking to that therapist?”

Jesus Christ. What is this? Interrogate Ethan night? “Yes, mom. Once a week. And I exercise and drink plenty of water and take my medication at the exact same time every day. Why are you bringing this shit up?”

She looks at me through her periphery. “Maybe because of your episode yesterday. You need to stay on top of things.”

I keep my head down, focusing on the suds of soap and continuing to avoid her eyes. Her gaze weighs heavily on me, though. “Can we move on from this? I’m managing.”

She watches me for a beat before nodding her head slowly and picking up another dish to dry.

We silently work together until we complete all the dishes.

“What was up with you and Marisa?” my mom asks, shattering our peaceful silence. I don’t miss the small smile playing on her lips. “You were on the ruder side, but then you kept staring at her, so I figured you have a little crush.”

I turn away to fill a glass with water. “I wasn’t staring at her.” My voice climbs one too many octaves, sounding embarrassingly defensive. Was I staring at her? “And I don’t have a crush on her. Just the opposite, in fact.”

“She’s very pretty. Seems like such a sweetheart. Jenn was telling me that she went through a bad breakup recently.”

I still, contemplating joining Shane and Gavin outside. Hell, I’d gladly join my sisters and Lily, even let Lily give me one of her makeovers. Anything to get me away from my mom and that tone she’s using. The one that indicates she’s conspiring. “It’s really none of my business.”

“You mean you’re not even a little curious about her?”

She’s going to keep poking at me until she breaks me.

“Did you not hear me complaining to Dad that I wanted her gone? I don’t know where you’re going with this, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Fine,” she sighs. “Forget I said anything.”

I glance at the clock and see I still have some time before the sun sets. “I’m going to head out. Go check on my parcel and figure out what the hell to do with it.”

She nods, knowing better than to ask too many questions when it comes to my small piece of land. I’ve all but abandoned it, yet I’m forced to see it every time I come over, because it’s nestled between my parents’ land and Gavin’s. Every time I look at it, all I see is the poured foundation that’s now cracked. It was poured for a house for Laura and me, and it started cracking before we even broke up. It was as if the land knew before I did that she and I were never meant to be.