A Better Man(46)

Eyes dark and troubled, Ryan looked up. "Only Dad and I had access. Each night Dad locked the files up in the safe."

"What about the computer files?"

"We have a well-­protected system."

"Well, there's nobody on earth more honest than you, Ryan." No way did his brother have anything to do with the missing money. Jordan knew by the pained look on his face that Ryan was deeply troubled by this discovery. "And since Dad's not here to speak for himself, I say we hire an investigator."

"I'll second that," Declan said.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence. Anyone else have an opinion or maybe have a clue where that money might be?" Ryan glanced around the table. "Or where Aunt Pippy ran off to?"

They all looked around and were surprised to find no sign of her except her nearly full coffee cup abandoned on the table.

"Looks like she slipped out while we were in deep discussion," Ethan said.

Seemed she did that a lot. Jordan frowned before Parker pulled his attention back into the conversation.

"Maybe we should start looking into the workers," Parker suggested. "I know they don't have access to the accounts, but money can be pilfered in many ways."

"A hundred and fifty grand worth?" Jordan asked.

Parker shrugged. "Happens all the time. Someone hires a nanny or an assistant and the next thing you know your hard-­earned cash is gone with the wind. Or the hacker."

"Unfortunately, until we have an answer, everyone is suspect." Ryan scanned the room. "Even me. That's not all the news I have. But believe me, this isn't any better."

"When it rains, it pours," Ethan murmured.

"We finished the fiscal tax year in the red." Ryan let the other shoe drop. "Not deep, but in the red nonetheless."

"Fuck." Parker scratched his head. "So how do we fix that?"

"We find ways to make the company more profitable." Declan got up, poured another cup of coffee, then returned to the table. 

"Such as?" Jordan wanted to help in any way he could but he had no idea what it took to turn around a flagging family winery.

"At this point we need to consider everything." Declan shrugged. "All ideas are welcome and necessary."

"How about some Sunday wine festivals?" Ethan asked. "Maybe with some local bands. Local restaurants could do the catering with a portion of their profits going to the winery as an operator's fee."

"Or the area's food trucks," Parker added, knowing he had one of the best. "Maybe we could create an onsite trattoria in the building next to the event center."

"What about a wine club?" Jordan suggested. "With an annual membership fee that would include special wine deals. Maybe they could also receive VIP tickets to the Sunday festivals."

"These are all great concepts." Ryan seemed relieved that everyone had put a positive spin on such a negative situation. "Maybe everyone could make a list of their ideas so when we come back together we can vote on each project."

"Just so you know," Jordan said. "I'm more than willing to financially invest in the business."

"Me too," Dec said.

"I'll put up the cash for a trattoria," Parker amended. "I've been saving to open my own restaurant. Might as well put it here."

"I'm no millionaire," Ethan said, "but I'll gladly invest what I've got. And I can put in some sweat equity too."

"Yeah, but will you shave that beard before things start growing in there?" Jordan joked.

"Consider it done." Ethan chuckled. "Although don't you hockey players have some superstition thing and start growing Duck Dynasty beards as soon as the playoffs get going?"

"Not me. The ladies don't like them."

A groan of consensus passed around the table.

"Maybe this was all part of Mom and Dad's plan-­bringing us back together," Ethan said.

"I don't know." Ryan shrugged. "But it sure as hell beats wondering what everyone else is doing when we're spread throughout the country."

Jordan couldn't agree more.

When his cell phone vibrated on the table in front of him, he glanced down at the incoming number. Coach Reiner. For the fourth time in less than twenty-­four hours.

Shit.

He let the call go to voice mail.

Again.

Tomorrow he'd deal with the situation.

Today was all about family.

And Lucy.

As everyone got up from the table and clustered around the coffeemaker for refills, Jordan caught Ryan off to the side of the room.

"Don't sweat this," he said. "I can tell by the ready-­to-­keel-­over look on your face that you've lost sleep trying to figure it all out."