by Mary Blayney
Cooper nodded as I spoke. “I know.”
I ran a hand through my hair, not caring how it ended up. “I mean, really, that’s his greatest sin. He may not have grown up here like I did, but he’s worked here for years! Does he have no loyalty? Does he care nothing for the Vineyard Inn’s reputation? For its mission? For its integrity?”
I had evidently gotten worked up, because Cooper was making calming gestures as he moved across the room toward me.
“What?” I demanded. “I know I sound a little deranged right now, but does that not strike you as – as gross misconduct?” Good lord, I was sounding like a British police office. If I’d had a billy club I’d have been smacking it against my palm.
“It does,” he agreed. “And I love that you’re so protective of the inn.”
I blushed. It was true. I loved the inn like a sibling. “Well, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to laugh?” I didn’t know where this mood swing was coming from – the wine? the stress of being so close to Cooper when I didn’t know where we stood? – but in a way it felt good. Expressing the frustration I’d been carrying around was like coming over the crest of a hill and building up speed.
“Because, well, nothing all that bad happened. It’s kind of funny, now that it’s over. He said he’d tried to tell you,” Coop continued. “When you guys fell into the bushes?”
I spent a moment being mortified at the memory, then recalled that Roger had sought me out for something. He’d seemed nervous even, and had trouble saying what he wanted to say. Then Larry, or at that time Gary, or Jerry or whatever, had shown up and all hell had broken loose – at least in my mind.
“He felt bad about it,” Coop said. “But he liked her. And she’d pulled that whole helpless little girl act on him.”
“God,” I expelled. “He gets a crush on someone and throws everything else out the window? His job, his friends, his – his spine? That just infuriates me.”
“I also think he thought that if she paid him a little attention, maybe you would too.”
That stopped me. “What? No.”
“Yes, actually. He said that too.”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s just nothing I can do about that, Coop. He can say whatever he wants, but if he really liked me he wouldn’t have gone about trashing the place I love most in the world. So if you want to use that as an excuse, then…” I threw out a hand, at a loss for words. “Whatever.”
“An excuse for what?”
I was suddenly embarrassed. An excuse for not following through with me, was what I wanted to say. But I couldn’t. “Just think of how this all could have ended,” I said instead. “We’re lucky William Walker has a good sense of humor—”
“Kim.” The amused look on Cooper’s face was gone.
My face was flaming now. I did not want to explain, to tell him I wanted him to do something, to make clear what he thought of me, of us, to kiss me again, to love me love me love me. It was too pathetic. “No really, if William Walker had left, if he’d been so unimpressed with our sommelier, and therefore the inn, we would have—”
“Kim.”
“—lost any chance we had—”
“Kim! It wasn’t just Roger.”
“—at a worldwide reputa – wait. What? Of course it wasn’t just Roger. It was Prin too.” Light dawned and I suddenly felt sick. “Oh. You’re upset about Prin.”
Coop picked up a glass from the dishwasher rack and slid it with exaggerated care into one of the slats on the overhead shelf. “Well, yeah.”
He does love her. I wanted to sit down, but was afraid to move for fear of collapsing under the weight of my worst fears, realized.
“And Roger deceived us, it’s true. So you’re upset about him.” He slanted his eyes at me.
“Yeah, but not in the same way—”
“But I was the one who did us in tonight. With William Walker.”
My mind ricocheted from one point to the other so fast I could hardly keep up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I bought that bottle of plonk. I planned to serve it tomorrow at the tasting.”
I worked to put the pieces together. “Yes, so, okay. Give people a comparison, so they can see what cheap wine tastes like compared to the real thing. That’s a good idea.”
“Yes, that was the supposed idea.” He picked up another glass, shifting his gaze to the shelf. “But what I really wanted to do was expose Prin.”
For a second, I felt like I’d missed the bottom step. “Expose Prin?”
“Yeah. See, I was starting to suspect she wasn’t quite all she seemed. Her comments about the wines always came after ours, and pretty much echoed what someone else said. Usually you.” He shot me a quick look again, then went back to shelving glasses. “And she just seemed … too … something. I mean, nice, yeah, she seems like a nice person. But jeez. A real princess, you know?”
“No pun intended?” I laughed vaguely. What was he saying? I could hardly reconcile his words with the scenario I’d constructed. Was Cooper not in love with her? I felt momentarily dizzy and placed a sweaty palm on top of one of the barrels.
The dimples flashed, then disappeared. “No. I mean in the overindulged, spoiled, getting–by–on–her–beauty way. My mother thought her behavior should be chalked up to good breeding. She’s used to quality, to luxury, Hazel said, it’s a sign of class.” He used air quotes. “But that just doesn’t cut it for me, you know?” He looked at me as if for confirmation, and I nodded weakly. “So I wanted to expose her. Prove to Hazel, for one, that she’d been a bad choice to begin with. She wasn’t a sommelier, she was a liar. And jesus, have you seen her room lately?” He scoffed a laugh.
My eyes shot up to his. “Have you?”
He turned at my tone. “Yes. She asked me to do her a favor. She needed yet another mattress.” He let the significance of that sink in for a moment. “Kim, she has six mattresses on that bed in there. It looks like she’s sleeping on a giant deck of cards. It’s ridiculous.”
My mouth hung open. It was almost too much to take in. He not only wasn’t in love with her, he…
“She’s about the most ridiculous woman I’ve ever met,” he added.
My eyes were riveted to his, his lovely, blue, twinkly, kind eyes.
“Kim, how could you ever think I’d be interested in her?” The question was soft enough that I thought I might be dreaming.
I closed my mouth with a click. “But she’s so beautiful…”
He shrugged. “Sure, I guess. But so are you.”
I scoffed, and reality descended immediately, the magic of the moment chased back like smoke before a fan. I wasn’t anywhere close to beautiful and we both knew it.
“Don’t scoff,” he said. “Don’t take my compliment and turn it into something bad. I mean it.”
His words startled me. I had done exactly that.
“Am I a liar?” he asked, looking at me in a way that made my legs feel like water.
I shook my head.
He took a step toward me, though there’d only been about two feet between us to begin with.
“Kim, you told me there was nothing between you and Roger —”
“For the love of God, Coop.” It came out on an expulsion of pent–up breath. “Of course there isn’t.”
“Thank god.” His hand reached out to me again, and this time it did touch my cheek, just as I’d hoped it would earlier. “Do you remember the first time we were alone in this room?”
“Better than you can imagine.”
“I’ve thought about that kiss so many times over the years it’s gotten worn out.” His fingers were so gentle on my skin I honestly thought I might swoon.
“Me too.” My voice was tiny, a matchlight of hope in a big night sky.
His cheeks were pink. “Then maybe it’s time to create a new memory. Do you think?”
We stood for a moment staring at each other. “Y
es,” I whispered.
That’s when he leaned down and put his lips on mine. My hands rose, fingers closing around his arms, feeling the muscles under the cotton of his shirt. I opened my mouth to his as he pulled me close, and I was lost. Happiness exploded in my chest, and my entire body melted into his. This was Cooper, and me, and the kiss was even better than my memories of the first one. This time there was no fumbling, no awkward bumping of teeth, or noses, no uncomfortable shifting of bodies. We were one, and we were everything, like the entire universe resided within our joined bodies.
When the kiss finally broke, and we stood breathlessly regarding each other with stupefied grins on our faces, he said, “I’m in love with you, O’Shea.”
“Really?”
His smile was gentle enough to break my heart. “Really.”
I sighed, unexpected tears burning my eyes. “I love you too. So much more than you know.”
“Then prove it,” he challenged.
I laughed, and he bent down to nuzzle my neck and tickle me with his eyelashes.
“And how do you propose I do that?” I wished my clothes would simply drop off without my having to waste time taking them off. I pressed my body closer to his, feeling his entire torso against mine, including some pretty firm evidence of his desire.
He pulled back, eyes smiling into mine. “Marry me.”
I gasped.
“Is that a yes? ‘Cause if it is, then we can get right to that proof you were thinking about.”
I laughed. And said yes. And then we got to that thing we were both thinking…
Chapter Nine
I could hardly contain my joy, as I poured the last of the decanter of wine into the last judge’s glass. We were midway through the final round and it had all gone remarkably smoothly.
After the debacle with William Walker, Prin had been shown the door, which she had exited with a good natured shrug and a tinkling laugh – It was fun while it lasted! – and Roger was on probation. But the rest of us were able to pick up the slack fairly easily and between Cooper, Hazel and me, nobody seemed to notice that we had no sommelier for the moment. Yes, even I had been able to do some schmoozing with restaurant customers and found it easier than I’d ever dreamed to talk to the high rollers, as long as we were talking about wine. That’s the thing about feeling loved, it gives you confidence.
And did I feel loved. So many things fell into place once I accepted that Cooper really did love me. The ways he’d acted over the years, the banter, the teasing, the infallible attention. I had missed it all, thinking he was just being a good friend. When all the while he’d been remembering that long–ago kiss as vividly as I had. Apparently he’d imprinted on me too.
I smiled to myself again.
We’d decided to wait until after the competition to tell my parents and Hazel and the rest of the staff about our engagement, but in the meantime it was a delicious secret between the two of us. All we had to do was look at each other and we were both suffused with a gleeful dopiness.
I took a deep, satisfied breath and exhaled slowly. In the silent room I gazed at the judges, at William Walker’s snowy head bent over his tasting sheet, pencil flying, and peace settled over me. This was a success. The Vineyard Inn’s reputation would be sky high now. We had Prin to thank for that, I guess.
Which suddenly made me wonder: if Prin was so ignorant about wine, how in the world had she gotten William Walker to judge the contest? Justin Jones was here too. I looked around the room for Cooper, but my eye was caught by a small shape at the end of the judges’ table.
As my eyes met Larry’s, he grinned maniacally and put a finger to his lips. Then he darted toward one of the dining room chairs, his back pressed hard against one of the legs, like a soldier avoiding sniper fire, before he moved again. I could spot him easily. I looked around to see if he’d caught anyone else’s eye, though it was obvious to me now that he was here just for me, and seen only by me.
As he scooted from table leg to chair leg, making his way over to me with elaborate stealth, a memory tickled the back of my mind. And suddenly I knew. I took a deep breath, realization dawning, and studied ‘Larry’s’ form as he came nearer.
When he reached me, I was sure. I backed up against the wall, farther away from everyone and pretty much out of earshot.
“Hello, Larry,” I whispered.
“Larry?!” he said back, his chest swelling with indignation. His pot belly stood out against his tee shirt. “My name’s Terry!”
I lifted a brow. “No it’s not.”
He put a hand on one of his skinny hips and canted a knee outward. “What do you mean ‘no it’s not’. I’m telling you, it’s Terry. You got to learn to listen, missy. You been calling me the wrong name since I met you!”
“I know I have.”
That threw him. He nodded once. “Damn right.”
“But I also know your real name.”
“Course you do. I just told you! It’s—”
“Not Terry.”
He eyed me shrewdly. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really.”
“Then what is it? Huh, girly?”
It came back to me in a flash, the way an idea will come to you out of nowhere when you’re showering, or doing the dishes, or driving to Florida. “Your name is Perry.”
He lifted his chin, his eyes suddenly wise. It was amazing, the transformation of his face when he lost the obnoxious personality. If he’d been wearing a hat and holding a racing form I’d have known him immediately.
My name’s Perry. What’s yours? Where did your parents park, do you remember?
What do they drive, honey?
He’d been taking care of me for years, it seemed.
“That’s right. My name’s Perry.” He smiled, and it wasn’t a leer, or a grin, or a smirk. It was a genuine, warm smile of affection. He glanced over at Cooper. “I’m glad you got what you wanted, honey.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
He shook his head, pushing his hands into his pockets. “That’s not true. Because you always had what you wanted. You just didn’t know it. The thing you were looking for was right under your nose the whole time.”
If Cooper was to be believed – and I trusted him with all of my heart – this was true. “You helped me find it, then. Thank you.”
“Huh! Pshaw.” He flapped a hand at me, looking a little bit like Harry/Jerry/Gary/Larry/Terry for a second. Then he became Perry again. “I’ll always help you find your family, honey. If you ever get lost again, I’ll be there.”
I smiled at him, gratitude flooding me. “And Prin? Was she with you?”
He lifted his hands, palm up, and looked aside. “Eh. She helped make a point.”
“So she’s a fairy too?”
He shook his head, then said with a wink, “There’s a lotta different kinds a magic in the world, girly. You just gotta believe.”
And with that, he shot off like a bottle rocket.
I scanned the room to see if anybody else had seen or heard it. Not a head had turned, not a soul had stirred. I saw Cooper making his way along the back wall toward me. When our eyes met we grinned witlessly at each other.
I certainly did believe, now.
My entire world was magic.
The End
Author Bio
Elaine Fox began her career writing time–travel romances, such as Rita–finalist Traveler, and Impostor (both now available as e–books on Amazon and Barnes & Noble), then added historicals to the mix. After six books with Leisure, she moved to Avon Books to begin writing contemporary romances. Her first, Maybe Baby, hit the USA Today Bestseller list and eight more novels and four novellas followed, with several of them also reaching the USA Today list.
Most recently she participated in the anthology Mirror, Mirror, from Berkley Publishers, which debuted at #3 on the New York Times Bestseller list.
Elaine lives just outside of Washington, D.C., with a small Cuban dog and a lovely
Argentinean man. Elaine needs to learn Spanish.
Email Elaine
Visit Elaine's Website.
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Duets
By
Emelle Gamble
Dedication
With love for Lorraine Dorothy Curran Hagood Gamble,
a rose by any name…
Chapter One
Los Angeles,
July 31, 2010 2 p.m.
He’s not what you think.”
Molly Harper turned away at these words, knowing they more than likely preceded an indictment of her fiancé. Keep from showing you’re hurt, she told herself. But she knew disappointment had flashed in her eyes, and that her mother had seen it.
“Ben’s not what I think?” Molly stared outside as the limousine she and Norma rode in glided down Wilshire Boulevard, five miles from the brick–paved road leading to her mother’s neighborhood. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I think he is?”
“You think he’s a man like your father, a man inclined to put his wife’s well–being and his children’s needs before his own. Ben Delmonico is not that kind of man,” Norma said.
She turned and faced her mother. “I don’t think you know Ben well enough to say that. And honestly, I wish you had a little more faith in me. I gave this a lot of thought before I decided to marry him.”
“A lot of thought? You told me five minutes ago you said ‘yes’ the same night Ben proposed. I think you’ve agreed to marry him because you’re panicking.”
Molly sighed. She’d hoped Norma would be delighted by the news she was marrying a successful man, the gorgeous, Academy–Award–nominated actor, Ben Delmonico. A man known the world over for his sophisticated action movies and box office charisma. But it was clear Norma was not delighted.
Typical. Mother loves being contrary. And in control. “What am I panicking about?”
“About being thirty–two. About not having children. But mostly because Cruz Morales is seriously involved with another woman. And, as usual, when you panic you make impulsive decisions just to put an end to anything that might seem like a confrontation. I’ve seen you live to regret that several times.”