Chapter Eleven
I’ve booked us at a B&B in Yountville, twenty-five minutes down Mt. Veeder from where Declan’s vineyard is located. Emmaline meets us for drinks in the living room as soon as we arrive, bristling with nervous energy. “I should call Declan right now, shouldn’t I? Maybe I should drive up tonight.”
I hand her a glass of Pinot Noir. “You’re overthinking this. Go upstairs, take a bath and book yourself into a spa for the day tomorrow.”
“I’d love to join you,” Roxi adds with a warm smile. “I haven’t indulged in girlie activities in ages. I’m overdue.”
I shoot her a grateful smile. Maybe it’s her confidence or her fierce independence, or maybe it’s because there’s no expectation for anything between us, but her lack of jealousy as she’s learned about the people, the women I’ve
