The party was already in full swing when Ashleigh and I finally showed. It had taken longer to get my hair into the lush waves that Ashleigh wanted, and then I’d let her go to town with my makeup, too. The forest-green slip dress I’d chosen was something I’d worn for a med school banquet. I’d paired it with my new pair of black heels and left the house after Ashleigh applauded my clothing choice.
Now, we were here in the mansion of a house I’d practically grown up in, and I felt entirely out of place. I’d spent more time here than at my own house, but those days were long gone.
“I’m going to go save Julian,” Ashleigh said, squeezing my arm. “Have fun!”
I watched her go with trepidation. I’d forgotten that Julian would be here. I sure hoped this didn’t get back to his brother. The last thing I needed was for Jordan to think that Chase and I were getting together. Fuck.
I headed toward the kitchen to track down a drink and nearly ran smack dab into Chase. He caught my arm.
“Annie?” he all but gasped.
I could tell that someone, ostensibly Ashleigh, had applied makeup to his battered face to try to make him more presentable. And she must have had high-end cosmetics because it’d mostly worked. It looked more like he hadn’t slept in a few days than that he had a black eye. His nose had been reset cleanly, and only a small cut was still visible.
“Hey, Chase.”
“What are you doing here? I didn’t think that you’d…” He trailed off, gesturing around him.
“Ashleigh,” I said by way of explanation.
He shook his head. “My sister. She can do anything she puts her mind to.”
“Yep.”
“I’m really glad that you came, but you didn’t have to. I know that I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you when you came to my house the other. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I know,” I admitted with a sigh. “You were an ass.”
“Yeah, I was.”
“Let’s just not be that stupid again, okay?”
“That sounds like a deal.”
“We’ve been friends since we were babies. As long as we’re on the same page, I don’t think that we should stop now.”
“But just friends?” he asked softly.
I nodded. “Just friends.”
“All right.” He looked disappointed, but he let it go. “Well, let’s get you a drink. I’m so glad you’re here. My parents are going to freak.”
Chase snagged a glass of champagne and passed it to me. Then I followed him into the living room. His mom, Charlotte, put a hand to her chest when she saw me.
“Annie, darling!” she gushed, pulling me into a hug. “You look stunning. We’re so glad that you’re here.”
“It’s good to see you.”
“Oh, Annie,” Arnold Sinclair said when he saw me. “What a treat!”
I grinned up at him. “Glad to be here.”
“These two used to run around this house for hours when they were young,” Arnold said to the couple in front of him.
“How cute,” the woman said.
“Annie, this is Bart and Angelica Lawson. They own a very successful law firm here in town and have offered guidance to Chase for his new venture.”
“Nice to meet you,” I told them. Though their name rang a bell. “Are you Katelyn’s parents?”
“Why, yes!” Angelica cried. “She’s our little ballerina. She’s running around here somewhere.”
“Right.” I remembered then that Peyton had had an issue with all of them this Christmas season. That they seemed like perfectly nice people, but were actually entitled assholes. Not that I intended to bring any of that up. “I’m going to grab a bite. Lovely party. Excuse me..”
I hastily brushed past them, feeling overwhelmed by the pleasantries. I’d been enjoying a perfectly wonderful night of ice cream and television. Now, I was here, making small talk. Kill me.
When I made it to the buffet table set up along a long, open wall in the living room, I picked up a ripe strawberry and nibbled on it as I decided on my next move. I’d made up with Chase, and then promptly left him behind with his parents. I could feel his eyes on me, but I turned my back instead. This was such a bad idea.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
I jumped at the sound of Julian’s voice and turned to meet him. “Hey.”
He was dressed up in a fitted navy blue suit with a white button-up and pink tie. They all fit him, as if they’d been hand-tailored to his specifications. He did seem to love fashion way more than his brother.
“I didn’t expect for you to show.”
“I didn’t anticipate coming.”
Julian reached for a cucumber-and-cream-cheese sandwich. “Are you…here with Chase?”
“No!” I blurted hastily. Then I took a breath. “No, I’m not here with Chase. Ashleigh actually made me come because we’ve been friends so long. So, I’m just here as a friend.”
“I see.”
I reached out and grasped his suit sleeve. “Please, don’t tell your brother I was here, especially not here with Chase.”
His gaze softened. “I’m not going to tell him. I really don’t want to think about how Jordan would react to you being here with Chase after last night.”
“Me either,” I said with a shudder.
“Are you going to talk to him?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Should I?”
He blew out a breath. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”
“But…”
“But he was a better person when he was with you, happier. I don’t know…maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you after what he did and said, but he really cares for you. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“It doesn’t excuse what he said.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Julian agreed. “But he is going through a lot right now. He might look like the strong one, Annie. He puts on the big-brother protector bit really well, but the only reason it comes out is because he needed someone to protect him, too, and there was no one there to do it. And now, he doesn’t know how to ask for that help.”
I swallowed hard at his words. We didn’t talk about his dad much, but there was enough emotional trauma there for him to have put up these boundaries. And then to not know how to navigate those problems on his own without violence. I’d seen it happen myself last night.
“Yeah. Maybe,” I whispered.
He grinned that charismatic Julian smile. “Either way, I’m glad you’re not here with Chase. That would be awkward.”
I laughed. “It would be, wouldn’t it?”
Ashleigh appeared then. “Come on, baby. They’re about to make the toast.”
My eyes finally found Chase’s in the crowd. He beckoned me over. I smiled at Julian and then headed to Chase’s side. It was strange to be there as he draped a casual arm around my shoulders. This was the life that I’d always thought I would be living. And now, it was a specter of reality.
Chase’s father said a few words that I barely heard. I raised my fresh glass of champagne into the air and celebrated my closest friend coming home.
As soon as it was over, I slipped out of his grip and found the stairs to take me away from this. Coming here had been a mistake. I couldn’t breathe. I was still too fucked up from yesterday, and trying to pretend with people I knew, let alone strangers, was just too much.
No one was on the second floor, which housed an extra guest bedroom, Arnold’s at-home office, and Charlotte’s workout room. It was the office that I meandered to because it had the best view of the pool.
Of course, Arnold always kept it locked, but Chase and I had played up here too many times, growing up, for me not to know how to jiggle the lock to get it open. It was an old thing, and he probably should have had it replaced a long time ago.
I hit the lock just right, and, voilà, an empty space for me to wallow.
I stepped into the darkened interior, carefully closing the door behind me. Even in the dark, I could see the bookshelf-lined walls, stacked full with legal and real estate material. There was a shelf or two for classics and the like that Chase and I had scoured once upon a time. The legal stuff had been too boring. Arnold’s enormous oak desk took up the majority of the back of the room with his massive chair. I’d sat in it a few times and always felt like I was being swallowed.
With a sip of my champagne, I passed the brooding desk and pushed open the glass balcony doors. The cold hit me like a two-by-four. I shivered against the unwelcome onslaught and immediately yanked the doors closed. So much for that idea.
I could see partygoers poolside through the glass. A few looked up at the sound of the door opening and closing, but I was far enough back that I didn’t think that anyone could see me.
A teenage couple kissed on a chaise. Probably the wayward Katelyn. What else was there to do at a grown-ups’ party?
My idea was ruined by the cold. So, I stepped away from the balcony and its voyeur appeal and back to the desk. I tugged out the mammoth chair and sank into the plush leather. I didn’t feel any bigger or more of an adult in the thing. Perhaps it only worked on big, strong men.
I rolled my eyes and set my champagne down on a stack of papers. His desk was shockingly messy. For someone who did so much business, I’d never understood how he was so unorganized. But maybe there was a method to the madness.
I flicked on a small desk light, just enough glow to see by, but not enough to alert anyone to my presence. I kicked my feet up onto the desk, leaning back in the big chair and tilting my head back. This night wasn’t what I’d thought it would be. I was glad that Chase and I were back on even footing. He still wanted more from me than I could give him, but he valued our friendship enough not to push.
I hoped.
With a melancholy sigh, I reached back out for my champagne.
“Fuck,” I gasped as the nearly empty glass toppled over, spilling its contents.
I jumped to my feet and floundered around for something to clean the mess with, but there was nothing. No towels or anything but my silk dress. And I just wasn’t ruining that for Arnold Sinclair’s paperwork.
I lifted the first few pages away from the wet and tried to flutter them back and forth so that they’d dry out. It really wasn’t that much alcohol, but enough for my presence to be known.
I arranged the wet paperwork out on the floor, hoping it would all dry out in the meantime. Which was when I actually looked at what was in front of me.
“What the hell?”
I dropped to my knees before the row of pages I’d splayed out on the floor to dry. The first was a map. A map I recognized because I’d seen it on Jordan’s dining room table while he worked. It was the map of Wright Vineyard.
The next was permit paperwork. I remembered Jordan complaining about it weeks ago. Somehow, it had expired, and a new one had had to be filed. Now, it was here…in Arnold Sinclair’s study.
Another page showed signed paperwork for an offer to buy a property. I squinted at the address, which had been mostly obscured by the champagne spill, but I had a pretty good idea where it belonged. The Sinclairs had made the counteroffer on the winery.
I rocked backward at the revelation.
The mystery of the ghost of the winery was solved.
The Sinclairs were the saboteurs.