The hairs on my neck raised, and by the time I made my way to the counter and Cos walked in, I was ready for a fight.
“What’s going on?” Cos asked me but I deferred to Neo and Dad.
“Not sure, but I have a pretty good idea.”
“Marco,” Neo warned. But I didn’t heed it.
As Grado’s winemaker, Neo usually stayed out of the books. But every once in a while, he had a hankering to check them himself. And I knew, without a doubt, this was one of those times.
“Feeling in the mood for spreadsheets?” I asked him, not needing an answer.
The brewery. Yeah, it had been my idea. But everyone signed off on it. And no one expected us to be in the black yet.
“Dad and I were talking about the supply chain issues, across the board, so he asked to take a look.”
“Does Mom know you’re here?” Cos asked, also heading behind the bar.
Neo was the only one of us without an office. He liked to move from place to place when he wasn’t out with the vines or in the cellar below us. At the moment, I wished he was down there tasting, or blending, or doing just about anything else. Because if there was one thing I could count on, it was Neo stirring up trouble whenever he attempted to look at the numbers.
“And?”
Cos and I exchanged a glance. He knew as well as I where this was headed. Of course, he’d say I was being sensitive. And that would only piss me off more.
“You’ve got to take back the brewing,” Dad said. There it was. “Rochester is charging an arm and a leg.”
Cos jumped in. “The equipment has been ordered. The brewmaster, hired. We’re in position Dad, but these things take time. We knew contract brewing was only temporary from the start.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you should have waited to open until you were ready.”
Fuck me. I really didn’t need this at nine a.m. on a Monday morning. Especially after a long-ass day of staring at my phone as if Rae had anything to text me about. After being on the boat talking until nearly two in the morning, I thought she might have reconsidered her stance. But on Sunday? Nothing. I even looked at the door all day as if expecting her to walk through it. Which made no sense since she’d basically told me we were a no-go.
“We talked about it, decided to build when we had the contractor for the barn,” Neo said.
“That doesn’t mean you needed to open.”
“Dad,” Cos said more firmly. “Why are you here? I thought you promised Mom no meddling.”
“Mom?” I asked, my meaning clear. He’d promised us the same.
And Rae thought she had problems.
“I came in to talk to you,” he said to Cos, “and Neo was working. Geez.”
The man could teach a class on Italian Catholic guilt. Which got me every time. “No one’s trying to bust your chops,” I said. “But it would figure out of all the things to criticize, it’s the brewery.”
“Here we go,” Neo said, shutting his laptop. “Marco, this has nothing to do with you.”
“No? If it was Cos’s idea, would we still be having this conversation?”
“Marco,” Cos repeated. It was my least favorite word in the dictionary when my family used my name in that way.
“No really, it’s a legitimate question,” I pressed.
“Of course we would,” my father said. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is for you boys, and your sister, to be successful.”
“We know, Dad,” Neo gave me a look. “And we are. This is one of the best years Grado’s ever had. And so we’re re-investing in the brewery which, by all accounts, is a smashing success.”
“He’s right,” Cos said. You’d never guess just a few months back my brother was pressing back on the brewery idea almost hard as my father. “I’m happy to go over the numbers in more detail with you.”