“Okay, but that’s not how it sounded.”
Refereeing the two of them was my part-time job. “I have an interview in fifteen minutes. Can we please cut to the chase?”
The Cellar was empty this early, and since it was Monday, it would be much slower than the weekend. But even today, in the summer, I only had two hours until this room began to fill. Basically, I needed to get this interview done, finish walk-throughs and clear out before I was sucked up again for tastings.
“An interview for what?” Min asked.
“Tasting room.” I leaned against the bar.
“Too bad it’s not an interview for a new marketing director,” my brother quipped.
Min crossed her arms like she was fourteen again and gave me a pointed look. “And now you know.”
I was confused. “What exactly do I know?”
What they were suggesting wasn’t possible. Jena had been our marketing director for more than fifteen years. She’d started as an office manager, went back to school to fulfill a lifelong dream of a college degree, and became even more indispensable than ever. We had a new admin and logistics lead, but to this day Jena’s job still crossed over. She did all of our social media, most of the marketing, and a billion other things.
“No.” I refused to believe it. Jena loved it here. We loved her. “No fucking way.”
“She’s gonna be pissed we told,” Min said. “She wanted to do it herself. I just happened to see her at dinner last night, and she looked really upset, so I coaxed it out of her.”
Fear of another kind took hold. “Is she okay? Is she sick?”
Min shook her head. “No, no. Nothing like that. She got engaged.”
“Engaged. After three months?” I needed to talk to her. We barely knew this guy.
“I know that look, Cos. Stay out of it. You aren’t her father.”
“No, because she doesn’t have one. Or siblings. Or anyone to tell her to be careful.”
“She’s a forty-eight-year-old divorcée with two awesome kids,” Neo said. “I’m pretty sure she’s not an idiot.”
“No, but you are. Who says divorcée? It’s demeaning.” Min was not pleased. Again.
“Since when is ‘divorcée’ demeaning? It just means she’s divorced. Which she is.”
“If you ever get a girlfriend, I’ll be amazed. Seriously.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Neo spat back, “because I don’t want one.”
No statement could have been more accurate. The day Antonio Grado went on more than two dates with the same girl, I’d sell my cut of the vineyard. Would never happen.
“So if she got engaged, why was she so upset?” I asked, still thinking of Jena.
Min rolled her eyes, as always. “Because her fiancé is a pilot stationed in North Carolina. Duh.”
“Duh? Speaking of things people don’t say.” Neo gave our sister a shit-eating grin. “At least if they’re not twelve.”
“Duh,” she said again to irritate him.
Thank God the two of them didn’t work in the same building. When people talked about a family business being challenging, they had Neo and Min in mind. “Guys, I have an interview. Can we focus?”
Neo shrugged as if it wasn’t his problem we were now down a marketing director a week before Min was leaving for Italy for the summer. Because it wasn’t. “Nothing else to say,” he added. “Jena’s leaving.”
“In a month,” Min added.
Jesus Lord Almighty. At least Min had the decency to look guilty. I glared at her as if she had something to do with it. “This is really a bad time for you to be going,” I said.