Champagne and Daisies

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Champagne and Daisies Page 2

by SJ McCoy


  “You mean you won’t be giving yourself a name for it. You work hard; I know you’ll be playing hard while you’re here. I can’t believe you won’t tell me who you’re working for. I want to know who’s floundering so badly that they need to call you in to turn things around for them.”

  Grant felt bad. Cole Hamilton Sr. was Antonio’s uncle. In a way that made him feel he should tell Antonio. It was family business. At the same time, it was all the more reason to maintain client confidentiality. He shook his head. “It’s part of the contract. I am not to disclose the name of my client. I’m sure once I get to work that word will get out, it’s hard to hide the kind of changes I make …”

  “You mean the wails of pain from the bloodbath you’re about to inflict?”

  “It’s not a bloodbath. It’s not pain. I prefer to think of what I do as pruning to encourage new growth.”

  Antonio laughed. “That’s how you justify it to yourself?”

  Grant frowned. “It’s not justification. I’m proud of what I do. I turn companies around. I save them. Yeah, there may be some trimming of dead wood …”

  Antonio smirked.

  “Okay, so it’s a euphemism. I let people go. I fire them, but it’s all part of streamlining operations, making processes more efficient and cost-effective so that the company can thrive. It’s sacrificing a few for the greater good.”

  “Sorry, there’s no need to get so defensive.” Antonio looked surprised. “I was only teasing.”

  “I know, but you make me sound like a heartless bastard, and I’m not. I care about the overall good.”

  “I know you do. But let’s forget about business for tonight and get back to the wine and womanizing, can we?”

  Grant nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that. Steak first, though.”

  Chapter Two

  Chelsea’s phone was ringing when she got back to her cottage. She ignored it; she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. All she wanted to do was run herself a hot bath, pour a glass of wine, and sit and fume over her dad bringing someone in to help her run Zosca.

  She opened a bottle of wine and listened as the answering machine kicked in. “Chelsea? Are you going to pick up? It’s me, Mary Ellen. Are you there?”

  She made a face. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, but if she did, the one person she’d want to talk to would be Mary Ellen.

  “Go on, pick up. You know you want to.”

  Chelsea chuckled and picked up. “You know me too well.”

  “Hey. I do. I could just see you sitting there staring at the phone debating whether or not to ignore me. I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s Saturday night, and you shouldn’t be sitting home alone doing nothing.”

  Chelsea laughed. “You mean you’re sitting home alone doing nothing and you don’t want to?”

  “You know me too well, too. Guilty as charged. So, since we’re both in the same the boat, what do you want to do?”

  “I want to sit home alone and do nothing.”

  “You don’t. You might think that right now, but you really don’t. You’d much rather get dressed up and go out with me. We could get all glammed up and go downtown and dine and dance.”

  Chelsea thought about it.

  “Just say yes. If you think about it too long, you’ll talk yourself out of it. Neither of us has had a night out in forever. We deserve this.”

  “You know what. You’re right. My plan was to soak in the bath and sulk. Your plan sounds like more fun.”

  “Oh no. What are you sulking about?”

  “I’ll tell you when I see you; otherwise, we’ll be on the phone all night. Where and when?”

  Mary Ellen laughed. “Muse. Eight o’clock. Have you eaten?”

  “No, I was supposed to have dinner with my parents, but that didn’t work out. You?”

  “Not unless popcorn counts.”

  “No, popcorn does not count. Okay. I’ll call ahead and get us a table.”

  “Ooh, I love that you can do that.”

  “Me too. Antonio may be many things, but I do like that he’s the owner of our favorite wine bar.”

  “Me too. So, are we doing the whole thing, dinner and dancing?”

  “And drinking wine.”

  “Great. I’ll wear my best frock.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Why does what we’re doing dictate what you’re wearing?”

  “Because, unlike you, I like to dress for the occasion. Just dinner would mean something more conservative than dinner and dancing. Dancing calls for something sparkly.”

  “I just wear what feels good to me wherever I’m going, whatever I’m doing.”

  “Don’t I know it. However, that’s fine for you, since you could wear a tablecloth with a belt and still look perfectly adorable.”

  “Now there’s an idea,” she teased.

  “No, please don’t. Indulge me. I want to wear something sparkly and sexy. Would you do the same, just for me? We can be two sexy singles out for a good time. Well, I know you’re not single, but I am, and you can be my wingman?”

  “Hmm. That’s part of what I need to tell you. I am single again now.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Like I said. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

  “Oh, Chels. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s all good. I’ll see you at eight.”

  Once she was ready, she decided to take a taxi downtown. If she and Mary Ellen were going to let their hair down, she wouldn’t be driving home afterward. She might as well admit it in advance and save herself the hassle of driving there and then having to figure out how to get her car back tomorrow.

  She paid the driver and stepped out of the cab. Rodney, the Maître D’, greeted her with a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you, Chelsea. It’s been a while.”

  She shook his hand. “It has. It’s been all work and no play lately.”

  “That’s no good. I hope a night at Muse will help remedy that. Are you meeting your cousin?”

  “Antonio? Is he here?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. For all his ways, she liked Antonio, but she really didn’t want to run into him this evening. Mary Ellen had a huge crush on him. She got all tongue tied around him, but refused to do anything about it. That would not make for a fun evening. “No, I’m having a girls’ night out with a friend.”

  Rodney winked. “And you’d rather not spend it with your cousin?”

  She laughed. “You know I love him, but yes. Tonight’s a girls’ night.”

  “Very well. Let me check your table … and his.”

  She chuckled as she watched him make his way through the restaurant toward the terrace out back. He was no doubt checking if the coast was clear. If Antonio spotted her, he might ask her to join him. He had that very Italian habit of always trying to draw everyone together into one big gathering.

  “Hey, you. Sorry I’m a bit late.”

  She turned to greet Mary Ellen. “Wow! Look at you. You weren’t joking about wanting to wear something sparkly and sexy, were you? You look fabulous.” She was wearing a gold dress that hugged her figure and shimmered as she moved.

  Mary Ellen smiled and pushed her hair back over her shoulders. “I feel a bit silly, but yeah. It’s been so long since I got all done up.” She eyed Chelsea. “I was worried I might have overdone it, but I needn’t have worried. Look at you!”

  Chelsea batted her eyelashes. “Oh, you mean this old thing?” She ran her hands down over the bright red minidress she’d dug out. It wasn’t sparkly, but it was definitely sexy.

  “Are you looking for a rebound?” Mary Ellen raised an eyebrow.

  “Nah. You told me to wear something sexy, so I made an effort.”

  “Well, looking like that, I think the odds of a rebound finding you are pretty good.” Mary Ellen frowned. “Anyway, are you going to tell me what happened? Why
you’re single again?”

  Rodney reappeared at that moment. “If you’d like to sit outside, a very nice table just became available.”

  Chelsea grinned at him. “You mean he left?”

  Rodney pressed his lips together and nodded his head slightly. “I’m confident that you’ll enjoy your meal. However, you may wish to dance elsewhere this evening.”

  Mary Ellen gave her a puzzled look. She’d explain later. Poor old Rodney was trying so hard to be discreet.

  “Thank you, Rodney.” They followed him outside to the table with the best view of the whole valley.

  ~ ~ ~

  Grant followed Antonio upstairs into the nightclub. His old friend grinned at him. “What do you think, huh? It’s not a bad little place if I do say so myself.”

  Grant laughed. “Come on. You don’t do modesty well; it doesn’t suit you. This place is amazing.” It really was. Grant wasn’t normally into nightclubs, but this place felt good. It was elegant but felt laid-back. The dance floor was huge and spilled outside onto an upper terrace which had a wonderful view of the valley. “When I was reading about what’s new around here, Muse got a mention as the best place to see and be seen. It didn’t mention you, though.”

  Antonio smiled. “I told you. I don’t make a big thing about it.”

  “Is there a reason for that?” He knew Antonio well enough to find it strange. He’d have expected him to claim the glory of having opened Napa’s new favorite night spot.

  “I suppose, if anything, I’m trying to keep the focus on my business achievements. The folks think I’m a playboy. They only ever get to hear about the wilder side of my life and forget about everything I do with the winery.”

  Grant chuckled. “You mean you want them to see you as all grown up and serious now, like Marcos?”

  Antonio shot him an evil look. “All grown up, maybe.”

  “How is Marcos?”

  “He’s doing wonderfully, as always. Going from success to success. There’s even talk of him coming over here for a while.”

  “Wow. I thought he’d made his home back in Sicily and that was it.”

  “So did I. So did he. Anyway,” Antonio made his way to the bar, “what are we drinking? Tonight’s not the night for getting into all of that serious stuff. Tonight’s for having some fun.”

  At the rate Antonio was drinking and flirting, it seemed he was indeed serious about having fun. Grant shook his head as he watched his friend lead a pretty brunette out onto the dance floor. The way they were moving together suggested that they’d both like to be doing more than dancing just as soon as they possibly could.

  Grant took a seat and looked around. Maybe he should be thinking the same way. Antonio was right. He hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. Maybe that was what he needed. He used to enjoy that lifestyle. It was fun. Nobody got hurt. Maybe he should find himself a sweet little thing with a hot little body who was interested in having some fun with him. If he didn’t do it tonight, who knew when he’d get a chance again. When he was working, he was working, and he started on Monday. It’d be weeks before he’d allow himself to get out and have fun again. The first few weeks of a new project always had him consumed by his work. He took a sip of his wine and chuckled as he watched Antonio dance. He didn’t need to work his charms on the brunette; she was all over him.

  Grant wasn’t surprised a few songs later when Antonio led the girl off the dance floor and came to him. “Grant. I’d like you to meet Alissa.”

  Grant nodded as the girl gave him a coy little wave. He knew this was going to be a very brief introduction.

  “Alissa needs a ride home. I’ve offered to take her if that’s okay with you?”

  Grant had to bite back a laugh. “Of course.”

  Antonio winked at him over the girl’s head. “I guess I’ll just see you tomorrow, then. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Great, don’t be late, will you? Nice to meet you, Alissa.” He shook his head as he watched them walk away. That was one they used to pull in college. Whichever one of them had hooked up made the other one their alibi—the reason they had to leave the chick before eight in the morning and could not stick around to do Sunday with her.

  He looked at his watch and wondered if he should call it a night. Just as he was about to get to his feet, a waitress brought him a fresh drink and smiled. “This one’s on the house. Antonio said you should stay and have fun.”

  Grant chuckled. “Thanks.” Maybe he would.

  His eyes widened when he saw two blondes appear in the doorway. Damn! That looked like fun. He could go for either one of them. The first wore a gold shiny number, her long, wavy hair curled around her shoulders. He smiled. She struck him as a no-nonsense kind. She might be hot and out for fun tonight, but he’d guess she was a down to earth practical kind of girl at heart. The other one was a different story. She wore a sexy little scarlet red dress that molded to her slender figure and made him want to … what? Yeah, it did. He could go for either one of them, but tonight he was going to go for this one, and the sudden and surprising ache in his pants made him determined that he’d succeed. Her honey blonde hair was pinned up, exposing a slender neck he wanted to taste. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to enjoy the image of letting her hair down and tangling his fingers in it as he pulled her head back to give him better access to her neck. Jesus! Where had those thoughts come from? Apparently, it really had been too long since he got laid.

  He got to his feet and headed to the bar where the two were now standing. He needed to hear her talk, figure out what kind of girl she was—whether she’d be up for anything, and whether he’d still want her when he heard her talk. He wasn’t above having casual sex, but all too often with women who were into casual sex, her personality could turn him off just as fast as her body turned him on.

  He found a spot at the bar beside them and listened to them talk.

  “So, you’re telling me Adrian’s gone? All the talk about opening a restaurant, about putting down roots and all that, it was just bullshit?” Golden-dress sounded indignant as she asked.

  “Yeah. He’s gone, but I don’t think it was bullshit. I think he believed it when he said it.”

  “You honestly believe that?”

  Grant turned his head so he could see Scarlet’s face as she replied. He guessed they were talking about her boyfriend, and if she was upset, he should probably forget it. Rebound sex could be great fun, but this situation had him feeling like a vulture ready to swoop in and pick over the carcass of a failed relationship.

  To his surprise, Scarlet laughed. “Honestly, I don’t know what I believe. I don’t even think it matters. He’s happy. What else do I need to know? Isn’t that the only reason two people ever get together—because they think they can make each other happy? He found something else that makes him happy. Good for him. I wish him well.”

  “And you’re not upset?”

  Grant leaned closer, hoping she’d say no. A girl who could be that philosophical about a breakup might well be open to letting him make her happy for the night, but he didn’t want to feel like he was preying on her misery.

  He was relieved when she replied. “No. I’m not. I’m much more upset about the fight I had with Dad, if that tells you anything.”

  He turned to look at her, he couldn’t help it.

  “It tells me that you’ve got your priorities straight,” said Golden-dress.

  “Yep. It was fun while it lasted, but now it’s over.” She looked up and met his eye as she spoke.

  He smiled. She was beautiful. She gave the slightest nod to acknowledge him and then turned her attention back to her friend. Golden-dress had noticed, though, and she turned around and looked at Grant. “Oh.” She looked surprised.

  “Sorry,” Grant gave her his best sheepish grin. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. At least I didn’t mean to.”

  She gave him a stern look.

  “Can I buy you both a drink
to make up for it?”

  Golden-dress narrowed her eyes at him and looked him over. Scarlet met his gaze but didn’t speak.

  “What do you think, Chelsea?”

  Scarlet nodded without looking away from him. “Yes. Please.”

  Golden-dress grinned at him and thrust out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Unintentional Eavesdropper. I’m Mary Ellen.” She leaned back. “And this is Chelsea.”

  He shook with her and then leaned toward Chelsea. His blood surged through his veins as he enclosed her small hand inside his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Grant.”

  “Grant who?” asked Mary Ellen.

  He’d been hoping to get away with staying on first name terms.

  “I don’t think that matters, does it?” Chelsea spoke before he had to answer.

  “Oh! I guess not,” said Mary Ellen hurriedly, making him wonder if he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to give his last name.

  He got the bartender’s attention and ordered a bottle of Perrier Jouet.

  Mary Ellen raised an eyebrow at him. “I take it you’re not a local?” she asked with a laugh.

  He shrugged. Perhaps ordering champagne in wine country wasn’t the smartest move. “I just thought you two might want to celebrate.”

  “What, celebrate meeting you?” asked Mary Ellen.

  He hadn’t meant that. He’d thought Chelsea might want to celebrate being free of Mr. Fun-While-it-Lasted, but then he wasn’t sure he should say so. Chelsea caught his gaze again and gave him the tiniest hint of a smile that suggested she knew what he meant.

  Once they each had a glass, Mary Ellen looked around at them. “Are we proposing a toast?”

  Chelsea shrugged.

  “Here’s to drinking champagne in wine country.” Grant raised his glass. The two girls burst out laughing. “What?” he asked.

  Chelsea smiled at him. “Sorry. Just an in-joke, I guess.”

  He turned to Mary Ellen. “Are you going to explain it?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Nah. I’ll let you figure it out for yourself.” She downed her champagne and smiled at them. “If you’ll excuse me a moment.”

 

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