by Mary Blayney
“Prin, please, you did not interrupt.” Where was she getting this idea that Roger and I were – were anything?
She smiled admonishingly. “You’re too nice, Kim. You would say that even if I showed up at the most inconvenient of times, I know it.” She patted my arm, much the way she had Roger’s. “But you needn’t be so gentle with me. I know when I’ve been vexing, and I will not do it again. I shall be much more careful in the future.”
I exhaled, as close to exasperation as I believed I could get with her.
“But there was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” she continued.
Without thinking, we’d started down the path in the direction Cooper had gone. “Oh? Is there something else you needed?”
She giggled – an airy, musical sound that managed not to seem the least bit silly. “Oh, Kim, if you only knew.” She tucked her hand through my arm as we walked, like Victorian ladies in a postcard. I’d never walked arm–in–arm with a woman before. It was … odd. “Just between us girls, can you tell me a little something about Cooper?”
My heart missed a beat, restarting with a dreadful clunk in my chest. “Cooper?”
“Yes. Is he seeing anyone, do you know?” She swung the thick ponytail she was wearing to her opposite shoulder and smoothed it with her free hand. “You two seem so close – like brother and sister – I felt sure that you would be the one to consult. You see, I find him … very attractive.” She flashed me a confidential look. “And I think … that is, I hope he finds me attractive too.”
My heart had now risen to my throat, making it not only difficult to breathe, but to get words out around it. “I – uh – um – I – don’t –”
“Oh, maybe you don’t see it, because you know him so well, but there’s such a charm about him. And he has seemed quite attentive to me, I must say. I hope I’m not misinterpreting.” She stopped, her arm coming loose from mine as I continued on for a dumb step or two. “Do you think I’m misinterpreting?”
Her dark eyes searched mine, fine brows drawn, beautiful face earnest.
I felt sick. She was perfect for him, I’d known it the second I saw her. Evidently now he’d seen it too. “I – I don’t know. Has he … have you …?” I didn’t know how to ask a question I didn’t actually want to know the answer to.
“He’s been flirtatious, I have to say.” That giggle again. “And he makes me laugh. I don’t know about you, but I’m a sucker for a man who can make me laugh.” She shrugged.
“Well.” I nodded, thinking, this is it, then. “Well…” I nodded some more, thinking, this is just what you knew would happen. “I …” I stopped nodding and thought, say something.
“If you think he’s been flirtatious,” I managed to garble out, “then he probably has been.”
I couldn’t believe she didn’t hear the emotion in my voice, but clearly she didn’t because she beamed. “Really? So he’s sincere, you believe? You know how some men are, they flirt just for the sake of it.” She waved a hand, brushing those men – who from the looks of it were legion – away from her. “I sensed that Cooper was different, but I wasn’t sure. So you agree he might really be interested?”
I started to walk. It was either that or pass out. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t be.”
“Oh, Kimmy!” she said, taking my arm again. “That’s wonderful news.”
Chapter Six
Naturally we ran into Cooper. No sooner had Prin gotten her confidence boosted by my inability to lie, than we turned a corner and there he was, sitting at the bistro table by his favorite koi pond.
We had both fallen into a contemplative silence – my mind descending into a dark, hopeless place, and Prin’s no doubt skipping through the daisies in sunshine and light – so he hadn’t heard us coming. He looked up, startled, when we rounded the bend.
His eyes took in Prin’s loveliness, then our clasped arms, so when his gaze got to mine it was gilded in irony.
I could barely look at him.
“Cooper!” Prin’s voice sounded delightfully delighted. “How funny to meet you here.”
In the garden of your own property, I thought, then hated myself.
“I’m here a lot, actually,” he said, standing politely, no doubt wishing her to know where to look for him again should she ever want to.
“I can see why.” She let go of my arm and turned in a circle, surveying the clearing and giving Coop a view of her litheness from every angle. “It’s beautiful. And what a lovely piece.” She went to stand beside the only other chair by the table, running her fingers over the mosaic table top.
They looked so beautiful together, and he was looking at her with such intensity, that I was afraid I might burst into tears on the spot.
“I – have to go,” I said, in a barely intelligible voice.
They both said, “Really?” at the same time, but while Prin’s tone was obviously inquisitive, Cooper’s sounded like confirmation.
Afraid of the sobs that threatened to burst forth, I turned away, muttering something about “things to do” while trying as best I could to walk at a reasonable pace. As I did I heard Prin say, “I think she and Roger have been fighting, poor thing.”
Once out of sight, I ran full–tilt for my bungalow and reached it just in time, opening the door as the first teardrops dripped over my lashes. I bolted to the bedroom and threw myself on my bed. The sob that broke free actually hurt my throat.
An hour later I had calmed myself to a point where I could breathe, albeit wheezily and only through my mouth. I rolled onto my back and threw an arm over my eyes.
My entire face felt puffy, and my chest ached.
What was I going to do? Not only was Cooper lost to Prin, but now he thought I was having sex with Roger. Roger! If the image of that didn’t turn him off me forever, nothing would.
“Cheer up, girly. It ain’t the end of the world, you know.”
If I’d had any energy, I’d have leapt out of bed and strangled the little weasel.
Instead I issued a weary, “Not now, Gary.”
“Who are you talking to? Gary!” His voice was indignant. “My name’s Larry. Jeez, no wonder you get into these kinds of messes. You gotta learn to listen, missy.”
I placed both palms over my eyes.
“Get back out there.” His voice was closer now.
I didn’t move. “Why?”
“Because he’s still there.”
“So?” I imagined them embracing at this point, gazing at each other moonily, awestruck that they’d found each other.
“So, now’s your chance. He’s practically waiting for you.”
I pushed myself up, found his ridiculous presence in the shadow of the bedside table and narrowed my eyes. “Who?”
I was onto him now. He was perfectly capable of sending me straight into Roger’s arms again.
His shoulders drooped, his arms hung loose, and he shook his head. “Why do you doubt me, girly? I’m talking about your one and only. Your true love. Your once and forever man.”
“Give me a name.” I pushed myself back up against the headboard and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Cooper.” He threw his shoulders back, tucked his chin in and looked at me. “Don’t you trust me?”
I laughed grimly. “Absolutely not. In any case, I’m not going back out there. He’s with her now. You should have seen him looking at her.”
“I should, huh? Why? Was he drooling?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Well was he?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what?”
“He was just … looking at her. You know, in that way.”
“Just looking?” He scoffed. “Then why are you giving up, huh? What’s the matter with you, huh? Why aren’t you willing to fight for this guy you claim to love, huh?”
“When did I ever say I loved him? Huh?” I had never in my life mocked anyone before.
Apparently I didn’t do it right because he co
ntinued on, unfazed.
“Besides, if you already think you have no chance, what’s the harm in going back out there? Seeing what happens? I’m pretty sure he’s alone. Maybe he’ll look at you that way when he sees you. You don’t know. You’re not a mind reader.”
“He thinks I’m with Roger now.” I could hardly believe I had to utter the words. “And he never looked at me that way before anyway.”
“Go explain to him about Roger.”
I sniffed. “I tried. He just thought I was … protesting too much.”
“So what? Protest some more. It’ll either help or make no difference. But it might help.”
There he went again, sounding vaguely logical.
The phone rang. He crouched like a thief in the middle of a heist when the alarm goes off.
“Don’t answer it,” he whispered loudly. “It’s her.”
I looked at him. “Who?”
“Who? Who? Who? What are you, an owl? It’s Principessa. She wants something, and you have stuff to do.” He made a crossing–guard motion with both hands, urging me toward the door.
My heart started pounding faster. If it really was Prin, then she wasn’t in an embrace with Cooper and I could, maybe, reach him, explain again about Roger.
The phone continued to ring, the answering machine picking up after the fourth one. We both listened to my recording, then Prin’s dainty voice emerged. “Hello, Kim. I’m so sorry to bother you when you’re not working, but I don’t know who else to ask. It’s my bed, you see. I’ve been terribly picky, I know, but I think it’s almost right. I just need a wee stepladder, if you have one. I’m sure there must be one here somewhere that would be perfect. Could you let me know? Maybe something in a storeroom somewhere? Not a stepstool. I think it has to be a ladder. If you could check and get back to me I’d be so grateful. Thank you, dear!”
As she spoke, I felt my stomach begin to clench. So she can’t get into her gigantic bed, and now it was my problem? And who used the word ‘wee’ in real life?
“You said he was alone?” I asked whatever–his–name–was–now. Larry.
“That’s what I said!” he crowed.
My thoughts clicked and tallied like an abacus. They’d been together less than an hour. Had something happened? Had he wanted something to happen and it didn’t, or had she? I couldn’t read minds, it was true, but I felt like if I saw him now, right after he’d been alone with her, maybe I could tell … something.
I got up – Larry cheering and clapping behind me – splashed water on my face in the bathroom, made what I could of my red eyes, then went back out to the gardens, walking now with a sense of purpose. So lost in thought was I, figuring out what I’d say to him about why I had come back, that I damn near ran into him.
He was coming around a corner by a particularly healthy coyote brush bush, holding two wine bottles by the necks in the fingers of his right hand. His left hand held a single wine glass.
“Oh! Hah! Sorry!” I held my hands up and twisted out of his way. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“No, it was me. Sorry.” He turned sideways too, holding the wines and glass up out of harm’s way. “I was … thinking about something else.”
My heart sank. Maybe the stepladder wasn’t for her – it was for them.
“Where are you going?” we asked at the same time.
We both laughed tensely.
“I was coming to find you,” I said.
“Really?” A smile played on his lips. “Would you say that if I weren’t holding two bottles of wine?”
The old Coop. I exhaled in relief, putting my hands on my hips. “Of course not. What kind of person do you take me for?”
He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”
My heart flipped over, even though I knew he didn’t mean it the way I wanted him to.
“So what are they?” I tilted my head to peer down at the labels.
“Sanford and Au Bon Climat.”
I made an appreciative sound, then said, “Doing a little homework?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Thought I’d taste, then give them to Prin for her opinion. They’re on the glass list so Roger can use them once they’re open.”
I believe we both cringed at the sound of Roger’s name.
“Listen, Coop, you have to understand…that thing with Roger.” I laid a palm out in the direction of the spot he’d found us. “That really was an accident. We tripped. Roger is the last person I’d … you know.”
“Have a roll in the hay with?” he supplied.
I squirmed in my skin. “Well, yeah.”
“How come?”
I felt his eyes on me. Did he ask because he thought I should be interested in Roger? My palms began to sweat. “I just, I’m not attracted to him like that. Not that there’s anything wrong with him, of course. I just … don’t see him that way. You know?”
I peeked up at him like a dog who wasn’t sure if that newspaper was to be read or rolled.
He nodded. “Yeah, I do know.”
My heart sank. He knew because that’s how he thought of me, that’s what his tone said. Nothing wrong with me, just … not attracted. I steeled myself, told myself to grow up, to stop crying over spilt milk, to let go of unrealistic dreams, and opened my mouth to excuse myself when he smiled – a good one with crinkly eyes in addition to the killer dimples – and said, “So. Want a taste?” He held the bottles aloft.
#
We went back to Cooper’s favorite koi pond, the one tucked farthest from the hacienda that was encircled by a brick patio area. The wrought–iron bistro table and two chairs sat under a trellis hung with trumpet honeysuckle.
He put the bottles on the table, pulled out a chair for me, then sat in the other. He up–ended the glass and set it down. “I’m afraid I only have the one. I was planning to drown my – uh – my cares and woes.”
“Oh? And what are those?”
He spun the bottles toward him, looking at the labels and not me. The moment lengthened. “At the moment …”
I was actually holding my breath.
“One of my woes is not having a corkscrew.” He turned a grin up to me.
“Oh. Uh…” I looked around myself as if one might magically appear. Had Prin turned him down, then?
He stood up. “Oh wait. Here’s one.” With a flourish he brought one out of his back pocket, holding it up like he’d just produced it from my ear.
I forced a laugh. “Put it to work, son!” I gestured toward the bottles.
He put the point of the instrument in the cork and twisted the bottle. “So Roger tells me he tasted four of the entries with Prin yesterday and she got three of the vineyards right.”
My eyes shot up to his. “That’s unbelievable.”
“I’ll say.”
“I mean, okay, maybe I could get one, if it were somebody like Frenchman’s Creek who oaks theirs to within an inch of its life. But three out of four?” I put an elbow on the table and rested my head in my hand. “I’ll never be that good.”
She just kept getting more and more impressive. What chance did I have? She was beating me on my own turf. I felt the cool dank air of the after–hours racetrack, smelled the stale beer, heard the skittering of losing tickets…
He levered the cork out of the bottle with a muted pop, then poured a few inches into the glass. Unscrewing the cork from the screw, he inclined his head to me. “Go ahead.”
I lifted the glass, swirled it, then put my nose in the bulb, inhaling deeply. “Hm. French oak.” I sipped, then nodded. I handed him the glass.
“That’s it?” He tilted the glass, looking at me.
I grinned. “That’s all I’m saying. I’m tired of giving you hints.”
“Huh!” he huffed, but the dimples showed. He took a good whiff, then sipped. “It’s tight.”
“Well, yeah. It’s been open, what, twenty seconds?”
“Red fruits.”
“Duh.”
&nbs
p; He made a face at me. “Raspberries, but something spicy. Not pepper but…” He was smelling the wine, but looking at me.
I only raised my brows. He sipped again, rocking the glass as he held the liquid in his mouth. My eyes dropped to his lips, I could practically feel his tongue, sliding through the liquid. I imagined that tongue, tart with wine, sliding along mine…
“Orange rind!”
I started. “Really? I got clove.”
“Clove.” He breathed the word out. “Of course.”
“But there’s a little something orange–rindy too,” I conceded.
“Don’t patronize me.” He handed me back the glass.
We went on tasting like that, arguing over adjectives and fruits, tannins and acidity, until we realized we’d consumed half the bottle and he opened the other one. A couple glasses into that and we were getting silly. I was so relieved that he believed me about Roger, I’d have been giddy no matter how much wine I’d drunk. But he was more exuberant than I’d seen him all week. I basked in it.
When he polished off the second glass he picked up the bottle of Au Bon Climat and gave me a questioning look. “Do we dare?”
I gestured helplessly. “I don’t know.”
“Ah, what the hell. I know the owner.” He poured another full glass.
“Me too. He’s a pushover.”
He laughed, handed me the glass and settled back in the chair, long legs in front of him. “So, O’Shea, your test went well? You ready to take on the world with your new accounting skills?”
“I don’t know about the world. Maybe the shop.” I tipped the glass toward the retail area.
“You can do better than that.”
My heartbeat accelerated and I stared into the glass. It was getting darker now, and my blush probably didn’t show. “What if I don’t want to?”
“What are you talking about? You’re going to do way bigger things than manage a wine store. I’ve got grand plans for you.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Suddenly he bent his knees and leaned forward over them, peering into the pillow of five–finger ferns across the patio. “Did you see that?”