I cursed and headed back to my desk. I pulled up my computer to get his number but saw that an email was waiting from the company.
Fucking finally.
I clicked to open it and stared at the message. It wasn’t even from George himself. It was written from his secretary with him CC’ed on the email.
Dear Julian.
Thank you so much for reaching out about the distribution contract. At this time, we’re unable to offer you…
My jaw dropped as I finished off the letter. A form letter. They’d sent a form rejection of our application for distribution. It didn’t even list reasons.
What the actual fuck was this shit? I couldn’t believe it. I’d been put through the hoops to get to this position. Yes, we were a new winery. Yes, we were a risk. Yes, there were reasons to deny us. But none of that had come up when I had my meetings with them. They knew Jensen. They were familiar with the Wright brand. They knew the likelihood that we’d stumble and fall was small since we had the capital to keep it afloat.
If they’d said any of those reasons, I could have put it aside and worked on it again in a year when we had more time and energy and money under our belt. But that wasn’t it. This was straight garbage.
Without thinking, I dialed George’s number. He’d given it to me on a business card, saying it was his personal line. I hadn’t used it because so far, everything had been working out.
“Hello?” George said.
“George, hi. It’s Julian Wright.”
“Julian, so good to hear from you,” he said as amicably as he’d been at the gala last month.
“I just received a form letter from the company, rejecting Wright Vineyard’s application for distribution.”
“Ah,” he drawled. “I thought that might be it.”
“What is going on?”
“It just isn’t the right fit.”
I blinked. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing personal. Purely business, son. I wanted to work with you, but when we looked at the information provided and compared it to what else was out there, we had to say no.”
“So, it’s because we’re new?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Is there a real reason for not taking us?” I snapped. I winced at my tone, but desperation took over. My charm had dissolved. This felt impossible.
“Sorry, son. Try again in a few years.” He even sounded sincere. “We’ll reconsider at a later date.”
And the line went dead.
He’d hung up on me.
I flung the phone across the room, and it shattered against the wall with a satisfying crunch. I regretted it almost as soon as I was done with my burst of anger. Now, I’d have to replace the damn thing, too. I didn’t have time for that. For anything.
What was I going to do? The question filtered through my mind on repeat.
They’d turned us down, given me no real answer for why, and then discarded us. Just that easily. This could sink the vineyard. Having a distribution agreement was the easiest way to make money in this business. Now, we could only sell on-site. We couldn’t get into stores or sell online or…anything. We were confined to this one place and time. A huge hindrance to the business.
And I couldn’t tell Hollin and Alejandra. They’d been so anticipating it. Hollin believed in me. I could go to Jordan. I squeezed my eyes shut and balled my hands into fists. No, I couldn’t do that either. Jordan was always my saving grace. But how the fuck was he going to fix this? And if he did, then he’d know I’d failed. He’d handed me the company, and I’d failed. He’d been bragging to Dad about it. Fuck. I didn’t know what to do.
I picked up the destroyed phone and saw that it didn’t even turn on. Great. Now, I couldn’t even get ahold of Jen. Not that I wanted to tell her how much of a failure I was either. She thought the world of me.
Maybe I was thinking too much of myself right now, but this had been my main focus for months. And now, it was gone. There was nothing I could do.
I ground my teeth together. Realizing there was something I could do.
But my phone was dead.
I’d have to go in person.
I ran a hand back through my hair and hated myself for what I was about to do. But Ashleigh Sinclair could make this right.
33
Jennifer
“Hey, Blaire. Have you heard if Julian is still going to the game today?”
Blaire popped her head out of her room, dressed in her red Tacos uniform, her long black hair in a ponytail on the top of her head. “As far as I know. Thank God we do not have to have Chase Sinclair again as his replacement.”
“Bad?”
“I did not know hot boys could be that uncoordinated.”
I laughed. “Didn’t he play football?”
“Oh, he can run. But he cannot dribble or pass or shoot. He kept going offsides. I’m not sure he actually knew the rules.” Blaire shook her head. “A disgrace.”
“Huh. Okay.”
“Why? Problems in paradise?”
“No. I don’t think so. I mean, I hope not.” I flushed, thinking about the worst-case scenario of why Julian hadn’t returned any of my texts for almost twenty-four hours. “He hasn’t responded on his cell. Could you text him?”
“Sure. Sure. Let me shoot one off to the group to see if they’ve heard from him.”
I nodded and headed back into my room. I changed into shorts and a tank top for the game, snagging a Blaire Blush baseball cap. She’d foisted one off on me since I never wore hats. I thought I looked stupid in them, but if Blaire said it looked good, who was I to argue?
I checked my phone again. Nothing. Seriously, I was starting to look desperate. How many unanswered messages were too many? Because I was definitely almost there. Or maybe already there.
“Hollin says he was at work. Should be at the game,” Blaire yelled across the hall.
“Oh. Okay,” I whispered.
So, he’d been at work but not messaged me. That was…odd. Worrisome.
I glanced at my stash of Xanax. Usually, I didn’t need anything like that for games, but my brain was firing overtime, telling me all the ways that Julian was tired of me. Over us. I’d been a fun flirtation, some nice sex, a trip to Mexico. Now, it was time to move on to bigger and better.
But Julian wasn’t like that. At least, the small part of my brain not currently overrun by my anxiety was saying that. We’d kissed in front of his whole family. Things had been looking good…looking up. Why did my brain have to do this?
“Fuck it,” I muttered.
I popped a half-Xanax into my mouth.
Then I did another thing that I’d been waiting on. I pulled up my Instagram. The post was already in Draft. It was the portrait I’d done of Campbell, maybe the best picture of my entire life. And underneath it was the caption: Portrait series #1. I’d been wavering on when to post it, if I should even do it. But it was now or never, right?
I pressed Share and closed my phone.
“Ready?” Blaire asked.
“Yep. Let’s go.”
Piper joined us in the living room, and we piled into her Jeep before we were on our way to the soccer fields. The top and sides were off of the Jeep. Piper and Blaire sang along to the latest Halsey song at the top of their lungs. They both had great voices. I was surprised I’d never really heard them sing before.