Need someone dependable? Get Meg. Want it done right…and quickly? Meg, again.

But being Meg exhausted even Meg at times.

Or maybe that was being forty-two and juggling kids and a career and keeping track of her wonderful, but rather absentminded husband.

Meg leaned back against the doorframe, hands tucked behind her, and glanced toward the guests still lingering on the terrace. It was a beautiful, clear night and the flagstone terrace looked picture perfect in the moonlight with its massive weathered trellis covered in grapevines and lit by thousands of tiny white lights.

Many of the guests had driven up from San Francisco for the party. Some were serious foodies, others loved a good party, and others just needed to see and be seen. But tonight no one seemed in a hurry to leave, and Meg wished she were out there by the stone fireplace with its crackling fire and a glass of the new Merlot in her hand. It was a great wine. Craig and Chad had another winner with the Merlot.

“You’re looking pensive,” said Chad, joining her at the open door.

Meg straightened, and smiled, even as she swiftly smoothed her black cocktail dress. “Am I? Not feeling pensive in the least.”

“What are you feeling, then?”

She stood tall. “Happy. Grateful.” Her shoulders twisted. “Mostly grateful.”

“Grateful for what?”

“My job. The weather. The good turnout.” She nodded at the guests out on the terrace. “Everyone seems to be having a really good time.”

“How could they not? It’s a fantastic party. You outdid yourself once again.”

“One day I’ll run out of great ideas and you’ll replace me, Mr. Hallahan.”

“Not likely. You’re as important to this winery as Craig or I am.”

Not at all true, but still nice to hear, she thought, glancing at Craig where he stood behind the tasting counter. He’d spent the entire evening behind the bar, talking and pouring wine. “I’d offer to take Craig’s place back there, but I don’t think he’d let me.”

Chad grinned as he looked Craig’s way. Four years separated the two brothers, but they looked a lot alike. They were both over six feet, both fair with light eyes. Craig had an inch or so on Chad in height, but Chad carried more muscle. Chad was also a little blonder and a lot more outgoing. Craig might be the president of the winery, with a good head for numbers, but Chad was the face of the winery and people loved him.

“Absolutely not,” Chad said, watching Craig open another bottle of the new label. “That’s his spot. That big counter keeps him safe. God only knows what would happen if he had to mingle.”

“You’re terrible.”

Chad winked at her. “I know. But why reform? Good girls love bad boys. You keep us in business.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes, thankful she was one of the few women in America immune to his charm.