Damon's Point of View
My phone buzzed halfway through reviewing supply reports.
[Can we drink some of your wine? The fancy stuff in the basement? Pretty please?]
Giselle. Of course.
I typed back: No. That collection is—
Another message came through before I could finish typing.
[It's for Sera. She's really nervous and I think it would help her relax. Just one bottle. I promise.]
I stared at the screen. Sera was nervous. Uncomfortable in a new place with new people.
And wine might help.
[Fine. One bottle. Don't touch the 1947.]
[YOU'RE THE BEST BROTHER EVER.]
[I mean it, Giselle. One bottle.]
[Yes yes I heard you. ONE bottle. Got it.]
I set my phone down, trying to refocus on the reports in front of me. Numbers swam across the page but none of them stuck. My mind kept drifting.
