Page 95 of While You Were Trending

“Do what?” Declan ambles deeper into the gift shop, while Flow rushes me.

“Did you—did you leave this envelope of cash on the counter?”

His brow furrows, and for a second, I’m back in college, meeting him for the first time, him clearly suppressing a sneer as he realized that I wasthat Ginny Rhodes.

Judging me.

Finding me unworthy.

“If I wanted to give you cash, I would’ve just given you cash,” he says as he reaches me, looking down at the plain white envelope stuffed full of money.

“But would you?” I ask. “Or would you think we’d be embarrassed and try to spare our feelings by doing something anonymously?”

His brown eyes connect with mine. “If you need money?—”

“We don’t need money. More money. We don’t need more money.”

His face goes placid, like he doesn’t want to call me on the lie.

Around here, we can always use more money.

Reopening a winery is no insignificant financial undertaking, and we’re managing it with all the volunteer help we can find and tight budgeting and holding our breaths and hoping for small miracles.

Miracles that miraculously keep coming.

“You okay?” he asks me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask instead of answering. My pulse is racing, and the taste of terror is heavy on my tongue.

I’m being framed.

I’m being framed for stealing an envelope of cash.

Cameras.

Are there cameras?

Flow leans into me and whines as I spin, looking for hidden cameras in the corners of the room. She smells like expensive doggie shampoo, and her fur is soft and glowing.

She could be a doggie model.

“Ginny?” Declan says.

“What are you doing here?” I repeat.

“Heard this is a good place to find a random bottle of wine without going to the house.”

“Who gave you a key?”

“Cricket.”

That, unfortunately, makes sense.

He picks up the envelope and thumbs through it, whistling softly as I nearly choke on my tongue.

Those aren’t fives or tens.

Or even twenties.