Her Best Friend's Brother by T. Dell (read the beginning after the end novel .TXT) 📕

“I like it too.” Libby whirled around to face Tony.

He had changed into a green colared shirt. Green was He had changed into a green colared shirt. Green was most definitely Tony’s color. “A couple of students from the high school did it for their senior project. Then we ran a story about the importance of arts in school curriculums.” Tony guided her back towards his office. “The best part?

Al the drywal underneath that mural is chipped and cracked!” He cocked her a grin. “You can’t tel a bit now-

- pretty smart huh?”

“I would expect nothing less.” Libby grinned back.

“This place is great Tony. Realy great.” Inside his office Libby was unsurprised to find his desk strewn messily with papers. He never had been exactly neat. Hanging on the wal were three shadow box frames-- one each for the first copy of the Daily Press, and both his novels to date. In one corner sat a wire waste paper basket, and the floor surrounding it was littered with crumpled paper bals. An image of how they got there sprung into her mind—typicaly Tony.

“Wel it barely supports itself, but it is more a work of love than anything else. I have a couple of teenagers wiling to work part time for peanuts and bylines, and I am subletting the apartment upstairs now that I’ve moved out—

that helps.

“Where did you move to?”

Pride and excitement colored Tony’s face. “I bought a house. About two months ago. It’s an old Victorian on Pine Street. The down payment took what was left of my book advance, I can’t afford furniture, and the place probably needs 60,000 dolars in repairs. But I’l get there. I can’t wait to show it to you.” Libby tried to remember when she had ever seen him so happy. Nothing came to mind. “Wow. You’ve done realy wel Tony, I’m glad. Al your dreams are coming true.”

“Not al of them, Lib. But I have high hopes. So what can we do for you?”

Libby handed over the folder she was carrying. “I definitely want the Sunday insert. And depending on the budget I would like a daily.”

Tony was quiet while he flipped through the couple of pages she had given him. “This looks good… Dolce-McKay?”

Libby shrugged. “I think it’s catchy. Plus it capitalizes on my Italian training…. Dolce is sweet”

“It is catchy.” Tony nodded. “We can definitely do this. You are working out of your mom’s kitchen?”

“For now. I haven’t given up on the dream of my own café, but one step at a time.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Ready to go?”

“What?” Libby was surprised when Tony stood up.

“To the wine festival? You stil want to come with me right?

“Of course. But we haven’t realy talked about prices, and I …”

“Don’t be dumb Libby… there’s no charge.”

“Absolutely not! You have a business to run, and I have a budget— including advertising funds.” Oops. He’d insulted her. She was sometimes easier to talk to in emails. Having to see her in person tended to scramble his brain—making him say things wrong. “I didn’t mean that Libby. I wanted to help. I tel you what.” He handed her a half-sheet sized card. “Here’s our ad contract. Al the prices are listed. I insist on a 25%

friends and family discount. It’s what I offer your mom when she runs coupons. Now whether or not you make up that 25% in cookies is entirely up to you.” Libby visibly relaxed.

“Now come on.” Tony slung a camera bag over his shoulder, and held the door open for her. “Let’s go have some fun.”

They did have fun. Booths and tents crowded the fair grounds, and at one end of the field a band was playing for a handful of picnickers. Most of venders were seling wine, but there were also food tents, and a few crafts and novelties stands. Music from the band filtered up to them and Tony took her hand in his as they began weaving around, checking out the various displays. Despite that he was on official business Tony seemed to genuinely want to ensure Libby was enjoying herself. He carefuly asked her opinion on each of the wines they sampled—expertly coaxing her to share with him the basics of wine tasting. He must be a very good reporter, Libby supposed.

“Now we picnic” announced Tony brightly, when they had seen just about everything. Libby back tracked a little to purchase a demi-bottle of a light rose wine she had particularly enjoyed. She blanched when Tony reached for his walet. Not that she had chosen an expensive bottle, but it wasn’t the cheapest she had seen either. “Relax.” He admonished when he saw her face. “You’re a tax deduction—I am taking a consultant out for drinks.” Tony winked as he accepted his change and handed Libby the bag.

“Okay.” Libby agreed. “What should we eat?” She headed off towards the food venders.

“You choose. I would have no idea what food to pair with what wine.”

“That’s the beauty of a rose wine—it goes with just about anything.” She ended up ordering a crusty baguette, and some cheeses.

“Tax deduction-- remember?” Again, he refused her offer to pay. “I should have brought a blanket.” Tony lamented looking down at her cream colored pants.

“Afraid of a few grass stains Marchetti?” Libby chalenged lightly.

They ended up down by the bandstand side by side on the grass with their smal picnic between them. Al around them couples and families were settling down now that the evening was drawing closer. An older couple was sweeping a waltz across a tiny dance floor, and a few children were playing ring-around-the-rosie.

“Who would have thought to bring kids to a wine festival?” Tony chuckled as he watched them flouncing dramaticaly into grass each time they finished their song.

“It’s not the same as bring kids to a bar.” Libby chewed thoughtfuly on her bread. “Wine isn’t realy about drinking. It’s more about experiencing.” Tony arched an eyebrow at her.

“It’s true. “ Libby swatted him playfuly. “More traditionaly