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. I reddened. Thank you. Dad, this is Alex Reed. His father reached out his hand,which I took.His father s hand wasmassive, like Ryan s, and I felt like Iwas visiting the land of the giants. I m Richard.It s very nice to meetyou, Alex. When a man with an earpiece arrivednext to Mr.Bennett, Ryan s dad smiledand excused himself.I took a quick swigof my wine and glanced at Ryan. Sir? Ryan laughed.I gave him a crooked smile. I don t know what came over me. That s Richard Bennett, inspiringformality. I detected a hint of scorn in Ryan stone, but I decided it was better not toask.Looking across the room, I sawRyan s friend James nursing a drink nextto his unhappy date, who was sulking asshe sucked down another glass of wine.When James saw me looking, he raisedhis glass.Smarmy dickhead.Servers were moving through theroom with large trays containing adangerous number of glasses filled withred wine.When a woman came by andoffered glasses to us, Ryan set his emptyon the tray and took two, placing mybarely sipped glass of wine on the closest surface. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you forjoining us this evening, Ryan s fathersaid from a small stage across the room.Next to him, there was a tall, statelywoman with golden hair like his sister s,only hers was shorter.Ryan s mother. Our vines may be dormant at this pointin the season, but this is still a pivotaltime of year for us as we prepare forspring.The vintage you hold in yourhands this evening is of specialsignificance to our family, a reservededicated to our eldest son, Reece.If hewere with us today, I imagine he wouldbe running Bennett Family Cellars.Nowplease, everyone.Raise a glass and joinme in toasting Reece and the future of winemaking in Sonoma County. In a daze, I blinked and slowly turnedto Ryan.His features had turned to ice,and the wine glass that had been full afew seconds ago was empty. Ryan? He turned to me with a twisted smilethat told me he was going to brush offany attempt at sympathy. Do you want to take a walk? Iasked. I need air. He stared at me like I had just barkedlike a dog.Then, slowly he nodded andtook my hand.As we weaved through thecrowd, I tried to absorb this newinformation.Before tonight, Ryan hadjust been my incredibly hot TA.To thinkof him as a brother, a son and someone who had lost his older brother wasstrange.It made me think of everythinghidden beneath all of us, the things wecarried with us and never told otherpeople about.It made me feel lonely.We were almost to the front door whenthe woman I had seen on the stageintercepted us. Ryan Bennett.Both your father andyour sister have met your young friend.Am I not to expect the same courtesy? Ryan s mother was beautiful, like anolder, more delicate version of hissister.But she had a coldness to her thatscared me, and I couldn t help noticingher description of me.Young friend.Itwas accurate, but pointed. Alex Reed, meet my mother, Kathleen Bennett. Alex? she asked with a raisedeyebrow. Alexis, I said quietly, very awarethat I was not passing her appraisal.She turned to Ryan. Have you seen Gretchen thisevening? I looked down, wishing I could sinkinto the floor. Yes, I did and that was enough forme. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep agurgle of laughter from rising to thesurface. Ryan! she scolded. Are we done, Mother? He didn t wait for an answer.He took my hand and began leading metoward the door, stopping at a table andgrabbing two empty wine glasses from adisplay before pulling me outside.Theair outside was cold, but at least itwasn t raining.I shivered and wishedfor jeans.Ryan took off his jacket anddraped it around my shoulders. Your mom seemed Bitchy? Cold? Passive aggressive? I was going to say unhappy. My mother is always unhappy.I callit her perpetual state of being. That s not very nice. No, it isn t.It s a terrible way tolive
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