“I believe Marcus will have it ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you go grab a cup of coffee? I’ll join you shortly.” Jules bared her teeth in what could loosely pass for a smile. It cost her so much to be pleasant when all she wanted to do was throttle someone.
Andromeda scampered from the room. Jules dropped into her chair and cradled her forehead in one hand as she reached for the mouse with the other. She had to check the browser history. Peeking through her fingers, she positioned the cursor where she wanted it and clicked.
Startled, she lifted her head and stared at the screen. The history was empty. Wherever Andromeda had been, she didn’t want anyone to know.
Damn.
Then she choked on her own breath as she recalled Andromeda gushing about being addicted to celebrity news. Double damn.
This was her fault. In a hurry to show Alex the little redecoration trick she’d pulled in his room, she’d avoided running her nightly shutdown duties. A routine that included locking her office. Jules dropped her head into her hands and groaned.
Voices drilled into her consciousness. A quick glance at the clock revealed breakfast was being served. She had a busy day planned for the group. This morning, they’d work together to create a wine bottle label detailing their company mission statement and corporate values. They’d print the labels to affix them on bottles the participants would take back to share with their co-workers.
Then this afternoon was the Sauvignon Stomp, a grape crushing activity requiring participants to shed their shoes, socks, and inhibitions. The Stomp was one of her favorite activities because it was generally accompanied by lots of laughter and lighthearted competitiveness.
But first, she needed to disconnect the Internet again. She hovered her hand over the mouse, intent on shutting down the system. Biting her lip, she moved to the keyboard. Typing fast to avoid changing her mind, Jules entered the address for Entertainment Access’s website. She stared at the characters in the search window.
Was she really going to do this? Squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped her hand to the mouse and clicked. After five seconds, she pried one eye open and peeked at the result—
A picture of Gitta, her head tipped to the side, in her classic ingénue pose, lips pouting, eyes wide and bright. Of course she’d be the lead story today. Jesus, wasn’t there some other big story out there? Some celebrity sex tape or a high-profile kidnapping? Hell, a terrorist threat would be more welcome than seeing her mother’s face staring back at her.
Jules drew a deep breath and clicked the link to the story. And forgot to exhale when the news report popped up. Gitta Grimes was ‘away on family business.’
And there, in living color, was the photo from Jules’ long ago, red carpet faux-pas.
Heat flashed into her face. The story dredged up the buried details of her disgraceful past. The sidebar story talked about Jules’ new business at a vineyard near Santa Rosa. She thought her heart would implode when the reporter referred to her as ‘the ugly duckling.’
Either Gitta or Peyton had changed the entire press release after she’d left last night. She was going to wring their scrawny necks. Jules slapped her hand on the desk, shooting to her feet. The chair scooted back, crashing against the cabinets behind her. She clenched both fists, then flexed them back open.
Heart pounding, she seized the mouse and forced out a toxic sigh as she clicked the button to close the browser window. Tightening her fingers around the wireless hunk of plastic, she hurled it across her office.
Barely missing Alex’s head as he entered the room.
He jumped backward. “Hey!”
“Sorry.”
Jules planted both palms on the desk, dropped her chin to her chest, and sucked in a calming breath. Alex closed the office door behind him. His tennis shoes squeaked on the hardwood floors as he approached. Heat from his hand seeped into her back when he rubbed between her shoulder blades.
“Gonna tell me what’s going on?”
She jerked upright. After a moment’s hesitation, she threw herself against his chest. The weight of his arms when they wrapped around her felt so comforting as she poured out the story between gritted teeth.
When she finished her tale and leaned into him, exhausted, he asked, “Okay, you know I didn’t leak the story, right?”
“I know. The byline read Shelby Renner,” she replied. “I could tell it wasn’t from you or Rawlings.”
“I hate to tell you, but I just saw Andromeda and the douchebag huddled together over coffee. They stopped talking when I walked in the room. I’m worried because we already know Andromeda is a self-professed gossip rag addict.”
Hearing him state her fear aloud made it ten times worse. “So even if Todd didn’t know Gitta was in the area before, he probably does now. What do I do? I have to protect her.”
“Why?” Curiosity deepened his voice.
“Damned if I know. I guess since she’s my mom, it has to be good enough reason.”
His chest rumbled with his guttural reply. Obviously, family ties weren’t a good enough reason for his tastes.
Alex stroked his hands up her spine, then back down, deep in thought. “They can go to my place. It’s outside L.A. and no one would think to look for them there. We’ll hire a private plane to fly them to a small airfield near my townhouse. Should be easy enough to arrange.”
“If you suppress the story, you’ll lose your job,” Jules protested. She leaned away from him and searched his face, finding nothing but sincerity.
He shrugged. “Big deal. I hate that job anyway. Gossip mongering isn’t my style.”
“But what would you do?”
“I have a couple of ideas. I’ll land on my feet.”
He’d give up his well-paying job to protect her mom’s secret. “Why, Alex? You barely know Gitta, and honestly, the more you know, the less you’ll like her. So why do this?”
Alex pressed a kiss to her mouth, let his lips linger, tasting her. “I’m not doing it for her. I’m doing it for you. I . . . you mean something to me.”
Her heart stuttered, then kicked in like a racehorse. The heat and truth in his eyes made them glitter. Nerves tingled under her skin and in her chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted onto her toes to nibble at his lips.
She released his mouth, along with a deep sigh. Gazing into his face, emotion shifted her heart, filling it and smothering any remaining dread over the situation with her mother. “You mean something to me, too. Thank you for helping me.”
“We’d better get busy making a plan for smuggling Gitta out of here. You want me to find Marcus?”
“Yeah. I think he’ll be as happy to get rid of Peyton as I will be to see the last of my mother.”
~ ~ ~
The morning exercise went well, considering Jules was almost too distracted to help the teams design their wine labels. In spite of Rawlings’ wheedling to get Andromeda on his team again that day, Jules had held firm. It only made sense because they were designing a label to represent their companies.
The team from the advertising agency in Fresno won the competition, which surprised no one.
During lunch, Todd crowded against Andromeda. Gemini sat ramrod straight on the other side of the pair, a scowl permanently fixed on his face and directed toward them. Their whispering annoyed Jules as well. She had to clench her hands in her lap to keep from tossing her water over both of them.
Marcus paused in the doorway of the dining room and beckoned her over. “Everything’s ready. As soon as you guys get started on the Stomp, I’ll take the van to the cabin and sneak them out. The plane will be waiting. Alex has given me his key and made arrangements for a buddy of his to pick us up at the airport.”
“You decided to go? I thought you said you’d rather chew glass than spend that
much time in close proximity to Peyton.”
“Yeah, but Gitta insisted I accompany them and technically she’s paying my salary so I have to go. I’m sorry, Jules. I just can’t leave her alone to deal with the paparazzi.” Marcus frowned, then lit up the room with a smile. “You’ll be okay. Dixon said he’d stay with you. I should be back the day after next. As soon as Alex gets home.”
Alex was going to stay. Something warm, something that seemed close to happiness, swelled in her chest, despite the dark cloud that had shadowed her morning. “You’re right. I’d rather have you with Gitta. I’ll be fine.”
After the break, Jules escorted the teams to the area where the Stomp would take place. Unfortunately, from their position on the ridge, the cabin would be in plain view of the vats filled with grapes.
“Oh hell,” she muttered, catching Alex’s attention.
“What?”
She gave a slight jerk of her head toward the small house. Everything about the set-up was designed to give contestants a great view of the rolling vineyard, including her compact sanctuary below.
This was bad.
His eyes widened when he caught on. He paused, turned in a circle, squinting toward the sky. “Hey, Jules, I forgot my sunglasses and I can already tell the glare will give me a headache. Is it . . . would it be possible to change direction, so I’m not staring straight into the sun?”
She expelled the breath she’d been holding. “Of course. I’ll just need to borrow some of your muscle to shift the tables to the opposite side.” Effectively removing the cabin from view. A perfect solution.
She loved a clever man, one who could think on his feet. Oh hell, she loved him. The realization stunned, then pleased her.
But she’d have to think about it later, after Gitta was safely away and this team-building program was history.
Five minutes later, everything had been relocated. Now the only way anyone would be able to glimpse Gitta moving from the cabin to the van would be if they happened to be running between the vat and the table with their container of juice.
She clapped her hands and waited until everyone paid attention. “All right, folks. Take off your shoes and socks and roll up your pant legs. This challenge will require you to get a little messy.”
Alex toed off his shoes, and then hopped around trying to strip off his socks. The other teams followed suit amid a lot of laughter.
Jules explained the activity. “You’re going to step into those vats and stomp the heck out of the grapes. In this exercise, we don’t care if you imagine all the barriers to being a team, or maybe evil co-workers, are being crushed.” Her suggestion drew laughter from the group, and a pointed stare from Todd in Alex’s direction.
She gestured to a faucet at the bottom of the oversized wooden tubs. “Juice will collect in a cup under a spigot. This challenge requires you to coordinate efforts to crush the grapes, then race the contents over to the table to fill the two-quart pitcher to the top.”
Alex sat on a nearby tree stump and started rolling up his jeans. Damn, he had sexy feet as well as hands.
With great difficulty, she dragged her gaze away. “Everyone understand the rules?” She raised the air horn she held in her hand and squeezed the trigger.
The contestants raced to their respective vats and climbed the stepladders. Some clambered over the side gingerly. Alex, on the other hand, vaulted into the wooden container like a gymnast, and proceeded to march around the edge of the tub. His knees rose and fell quickly as he stomped his way along the perimeter. The grapes came up to his shins, making walking difficult. His position on the edge forced Rawlings to the center. While Alex had a goofy smile on his face, Rawlings’ expression was one of disgust and chagrin, as if he found the entire activity beneath him.
One woman hollered, “Look at me!” Her bright red hair bounced as she propped her hands on her hips, high stepping in the grapes. “I’m Lucille Ball.”
The stomping went on for several minutes, everyone laughing and getting in to the spirit of it. Even Todd finally caved and laughed a little. Unfortunately, it was just as Gemini tripped and fell to his knees in his vat. Andromeda helped him to his feet and held his arm close as they stomped their way around the perimeter together. That brought the scowl back to Rawlings’ face.
“Okay, some of your containers are ready to empty. Choose who will exit the vat to carry the contents to the pitcher first. You’ll be alternating as you go.” Jules glanced around at the teams. “Oh, did I mention that there are holes in the transfer vessel? Whoever moves the juice had better be fast or you’ll lose half your contents.”
Alex leapt out of the barrel before Todd could. After grabbing the small cup from under the spigot, he ran to the table holding their pitcher. He dumped it, then ran back. The entire operation took less than ten seconds before he climbed the stepladder and jumped into the tub.
“Whoops!” Jules called out. She loved doling out the instruction this way. “I might have forgotten to mention that you’ll need to clean the sieve over the drain. Those darn grape skins can keep the juice from flowing. The person who didn’t deliver the juice to the container is responsible for that job. Remember, you’ll be alternating.”
That elicited groans from most, and one angry bird salute from Rawlings. It was obvious he wasn’t enjoying the messy exercise. He bent to clean the trap, his lip curled in disgust as he pried slimy skins from the screen. When he shook his hand violently over the rim of the vat, the skins plopped to the ground.
The activity continued for the next twenty minutes, with participants stomping, running, cleaning, and laughing. The tang of smashed grapes rose, heady and sweetly pungent from the vats. As the teams moved their feet, liquid, squishing noises filled the air.
From her position, Jules noted the instant the Team Vino van pulled into the driveway in front of the cabin. The van had barely stopped before Marcus jumped from the driver’s seat. He scurried around the hood of the vehicle and bounded up the steps.
As he disappeared into the house, Todd leapt from the vat to scoop up the full container. Cupping his hand under the hole in the bottom of the can, he jogged to the table holding the pitchers and dumped it. He was back in the vat in no time, but stood still, his back to Jules, his attention focused on the cabin.
No, no, no! “Todd, get busy, Team Gemini is ahead of you.”
Rawlings ignored her, continuing to stare at the cabin.
Marcus exited the building, carrying suitcases under his arms. Peyton followed with a briefcase and a carryall she wheeled down the steps. Jules held her breath, shooting a panicked look at Alex.
Todd remained motionless, squinting his eyes at the activity below them. Alex looked over his shoulder then stomped his way into Rawlings’ line of sight. Todd stepped to the right, and Alex followed, still obscuring his team member’s vision. The dance-like moves continued until Rawlings growled in frustration and seized Alex’s shoulders, pushing him out of the way.
In a display of excellent stage timing, Gitta picked that moment to proceed to the edge of the porch. Before her head could emerge into view, Alex tackled Rawlings, driving him to the mound of mushy grapes beneath their feet.
If she hadn’t been so distressed about Gitta being seen, Jules would have found the action in the vat funny. Thankfully, everyone’s attention now centered on Alex and Todd. Except for Jules, who split her focus between the two reporters and Gitta’s progress to the car.
Doing an impressive imitation of ‘whack-a-mole,’ Alex’s head popped up over the wooden edge as Gitta crossed the drive to the van. Alex pretended to slip and crashed into Todd, driving him to his back in the sticky mess of grapes.
“Get the fuck off me,” Todd growled as he shoved Alex and tried to scramble to his feet. He crashed back to his knees when Alex rolled into him again. The entire scene was worthy of a
Three Stooges routine.
Finally, after her leisurely stroll across the pavement, Gitta climbed into the van. Marcus slammed the door shut. The noise jolted Jules back into breathing mode.
She hurried to the oversized vat where the two men still grappled. Alex dug his elbow into Rawlings’ back, holding him in place. The look on Alex’s face bordered on joyful. Jules gave him a thumbs-up as Marcus drove the van out of sight.
Relief swirled through her, leaving her tipsy with happiness. Their plan had worked.
“Let me up, damn you.” Todd struggled to push to his knees.
Alex rolled onto his back, resting like the Roman god Bacchus on a bed of grapes. Jules restrained herself from crawling in to demonstrate how truly appreciative she was.
Todd jumped to his feet. Grape skins clung to his dark hair and dripped off his face. His gaze immediately turned toward the cabin. Upon discovering the van gone, he turned to Alex, brows lowered, lips compressed into a thin line. Like a petulant little kid, he kicked grape mash into Alex’s face. Laughter pealed from behind the juicy mask covering Alex.
“Todd, are you okay?” Andromeda called from one barrel over. Gemini hovered over her shoulder, a hand possessively fixed on her hip.
Todd’s scowl deepened. “I’m fine.” He climbed from the vat and stood on the stepladder. He swiped his hands over his body, removing the last traces of his scuffle with Alex.
“I’m so sorry, Todd,” Jules said. “I’ve never had that happen in this challenge. But the grapes are slippery. I know it’s easy to lose your balance.”
“Whatever.” Cleaning off most of the juice, Todd descended the ladder. His angry stride away from the area would have been more impressive if his ass hadn’t been covered in gooey grape skins.
Alex stood, his chest still heaving with laughter. “Mission accomplished?” he murmured to Jules. One eyebrow lifted, transforming his expression to cocky and self-assured.
Hidden in the Vines (Romancing the Vine) Page 9