Risking the Vine (Romancing the Vine Book 1)

by Gemma Brocato

  Marcus stood, pocketed the key, and drained the last dregs of his coffee. He carried his empty plate to the big farmhouse sink and waved as he left the room.

  Jules picked up her copy of the signed contract, lounging against the slats of her ladder-back chair. “Lots of changes going on for you.”

  Jac sipped her lukewarm brew and simply nodded. “All good ones.”

  “Especially Luke. Did you talk to him yet about the situation with the farm? About our deal? I mean, not that you have to. You’re not exactly dating yet, or anything.”

  “I know, but I feel I’ve known him forever. And will know him forever.” Jac marveled at the truth underlying her words. He was exciting, intriguing, sexy as all get out, and comfortable. “I texted him goodnight after we got back from Sophia’s deli, but I didn’t hear back from him. I’m sure he was busy working. My friend, Bella, told me everyone in an administrative position at the medical center was asked to pitch in to make sure patient care didn’t suffer during the dispute.”

  “So after they work a full day, they take an extra shift to help out in some other area?”

  “Yep. It’s good because they do get strike pay. It’s bad because they have to work some really long days. Poor Luke probably hasn’t seen the inside of his place other than to nap and shower.” Except there’d been time for some really great phone sex yesterday morning. The memory sent a steamy rush of desire to her center. Jac’s cheeks heated and she hid behind her cup as she gulped the hazelnut coffee. Only sheer discipline kept her from squirming in her chair.

  Eagerness to see Luke roared to life in the deepest recesses of her heart. To kiss him. To lay with him and let him love her. To love him back. She wanted to hold him close while she faced this new challenge. Despite the fact that he’d be several hours away, she hoped they could work out some sort of schedule so they could continue to be with each other. Please don’t let me be kidding myself.

  The sound of Marcus banging down the steps with her luggage pulled Jac from daydreaming of the future. After taking her dishes and flatware to the counter, she traded a warm hug with Jules, promising to text once she arrived back home. This woman and Marcus had handed her a way to the future. She owed them so much. Tears of gratitude misted her vision. She blinked the moisture away.

  Before she climbed into her car, Marcus wrapped his arms around her again, patting her on the back. “Gonna be great being your partner.” His smooth bass voice came out as comforting and cozy as a warm blanket on a cold night.

  Six hours later Jac cruised into her parking space at MedServices. On the flight home, she’d decided to stop by her office first and begin the process of clearing out her desk. Just the personal things she’d brought in over the three years to make her cubicle more comfortable. The blanket she used almost daily because most of the staff had voted to keep the thermostat set in the freezer section zone. The pretty Tiffany-style lamp she’d bought to combat the glaring fluorescent lights overhead. The African violet she’d faithfully watered for a year hoping it would bloom again. A change of scenery might be just the thing to trigger new growth. Just like me.

  As she shifted into ‘park,’ she noticed three other vehicles in the lot. Valerie’s Corolla and Allergy Allen’s Camaro were in their usual spots. A shiny new, black Lexus sat in the slot Deidre normally parked in. Lips pursed and eyes squinting in the sun, Jac pondered the new vehicle. Deidre hadn’t wasted any time spending her raise. The raise Jac should have collected.

  Debating whether she should go in or not, she lifted her gaze to the second row of windows. Framed in one of the windows, Deidre stared straight at Jac’s car, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on her face.

  Jac huffed a resigned sigh. Too late to back out of the space and blow out of this parking lot like a leaf on an autumn breeze. No hope for a hasty retreat, since Deidre had seen her. Twisting the strap of her purse around one hand, she jerked on the door handle. Cool, humid air slapped her in the face as she made her way from the car to the five-story office building.

  Inside, the air was still cool, but devoid of the damp that characterized September days in southern Oregon. She took the stairwell, refusing the elevator for just one floor. Even so, the small, dimly lit space creeped her out, especially when the building was mostly deserted. She wouldn’t miss this when she was gone. The staircase at the farmhouse might be similarly narrow, but an oversized stained glass window about halfway up brightened it.

  Taking the steps two at a time, she made it to the top in short order. The panic bar on the door banged as she pushed it open.

  She wasn’t going to miss this long hallway with its industrial grade carpeting either. The soles of her shoes scraped along the ultra-low, tightly woven pile, each step snagging on the nasty stuff. The pale green color reminded Jac of pond scum. Was it stimulus awareness; now she knew she’d be leaving, so everything about the office annoyed her?

  After letting herself into the MedServices suite with her key, she headed to the corner where she worked. Jac strode past Deidre’s new office door on her way to her cubicle. It was closed. With any luck Deidre would remain sealed off from the rest of them. Probably relishing her new ability to play Candy Crush or Trivia Crack without risk of discovery or interruption.

  Jac rounded the corner to the cube farm she’d called home for the past three years, stopping at Valerie’s desk. “Hey, why are you guys here?”

  “Slaves to duty? Bat-shit crazy? Lonely spinsters? Well, me at least.” Val leaned away from her computer monitors and stretched her legs under the desk. “Seriously, we’re still recovering from the last billing cycle fiasco. Allen and I are on forced overtime to get it solved.”

  Over the top of the padded cube, Jac heard Allen clear his throat. Not going to miss that either.

  She asked, “Couldn’t say no, huh?”

  “Not given the option,” Val replied. “Why are you here?”

  She couldn’t tell Val she was planning to clear out her desk. Without having the opportunity to talk to Ted, Jac didn’t feel right about telling anyone else about her decision. Yes, her loyalty was misplaced, but informing him first was the professional route. She rested her hand on the top of the open frame of the cubicle. “Just figured since I was out all week, I’d try to get my inbox to a more manageable level.”

  “Good luck,” Allen quipped from his spot on the other side of Val’s cubicle. He cleared his throat again and continued, “Dingbat Deidre forwarded most of her emails to you to handle.”

  “No surprise there,” she mumbled.

  Val snorted, but continued in a subdued voice. “We all feel your pain. With Deidre in charge, the rats will be leaving the sinking ship. Poor Ted doesn’t have a clue.” She brightened, her smug look a mix of delight and devious. “Hey, there’s coffee. And I brought amaretto creamer. Not the real stuff, but we can pretend. Help yourself.”

  Jac moved down the row of cubes to her own, larger than Val’s and Allen’s because her space housed several cumbersome file and storage cabinets. The space was still miniscule by comparison to, say, the great outdoors that would be her workspace in the future.

  One corner of her mouth lifted as she dropped her purse under the desk. Coffee cup in hand, she trooped past Deidre’s office to the kitchen.

  Dirty dishes were piled in the sink and on the counters. Jac worked with a bunch of cleaning-schedule challenged people. This state of the kitchen explained why she always cleaned her cup and took it back to her desk at the end of each day. Always cleaned the coffee pot so it was ready each morning. Usually, the kitchen resembled a gross college boy’s apartment. It was one hundred times worse today because she’d been gone all week.

  As she poured a cup, she glanced at the calendar taped over the machine. Deidre was on the schedule for the past week. No wonder the place looked like pigs had taken up residence.

 
; She added a dollop of cream to her cup, wishing it were alcohol-laden amaretto, not just the flavored not-quite-real cream. She carried the mug back to her desk, tiptoeing past Deidre’s office door which now stood open. The woman wasn’t in the room. Shit, her absence could only mean two things. Either she’d headed to the restroom or, more likely, she waited at Jac’s desk.

  “A word, please.” Deidre’s sooty voice held an edge. Her tobacco stench breath was an assault to Jac’s nose as she re-entered her cube. “The bills you prepped came back all fucked up. You need to fix this.”

  “Good afternoon to you, too.” Jac squeezed past the woman and claimed the black faux leather chair at the desk. She carefully set her mug on a coaster before saying, “Do you remember the discussion about changing the date and the multiplier before you sent them out?”

  “You never told me that.”

  Allen cleared his throat and the keys on Val’s keyboard went silent. No damn privacy in this office.

  “Deidre, we talked about this face-to-face before I left the office on Monday. I also printed the instructions for you. And for good measure, I emailed them to you as well.” She wasn’t going to mention copying Valerie on the email. She couldn’t bear the idea of Deidre throwing Val under the bus for something she’d neglected to do.

  Deidre’s mouth opened and closed, resembling a baby searching for the elusive nipple. “I . . . you . . . I never got an email. I certainly don’t remember a conversation about it.”

  Dammit, I knew I should have read-receipted that message. Perhaps if Deidre hadn’t been on a shoe-shopping website while they were talking, she might remember the conversation. “Next time I’ll tape it to your computer screen.” Although Deidre would probably just rip it down and use it as scratch paper to scrawl confirmation numbers from her online purchases.

  Besides, they wouldn’t have a new cycle ready to go in two weeks, all the notice Jac was prepared to give. Eagerness to launch her new career as an herb farmer in the country trumpeted in her brain. As Deidre flounced down the cubicle pathway, Jac scanned the fabric-covered walls of the place where she’d spent one-third of her life during the last three years.

  What she saw, however, was the rolling hills she’d rambled around, following her grandpa as he went about his chores. She saw the dark paneled room in the farmhouse Gramps had used to do paperwork and keep track of crop rotations and delivery schedules.

  Jac pushed the memories away as she waited for her computer to boot up, instead shifting her thoughts to Luke. Daydreams about the kind of memories they could make in the coming months invaded her imagination. Both on the farm, and in the farmhouse. She planned to claim the master bedroom as hers, with its king-sized bed. From that bed, they’d wake to the line of windows framing a view of rows upon rows of herbs, rolling away up the foothills of the Cascade Mountains.

  And the best part would be the nights she’d get to snuggle next to Luke in the big four-poster bed. Being kissed awake by him in the morning might become her new favorite pastime.

  Good heavens, she was getting ahead of herself. The computer flared to life, revealing a desktop picture of the mountains she’d just fantasized about. Would Luke want a place in her life once she moved? Or was she easily replaced? Combatting the doubt threatening to crash over her, she shut down the ramblings of her chaotic mind and focused on the work she needed to deal with.

  And counted the hours until Luke knocked on her door later tonight.

  Chapter 19

  Jac’s frustration mounted until it sat on her shoulders, heavier than a two-ton gorilla. Her head ached as if said gorilla was using it as a bongo drum. Sitting at her desk, she chewed her bottom lip almost to the point it bled. Freaking Deidre stayed behind closed doors in her office until nearly four.

  Valerie and Allen stayed, too. Jac’s plan to drop by the office to start collecting her personal effects evolved into solving the issues caused by Ditzy Deidre’s negligence.

  She finalized the modified billing just before Deidre exited her office, gave her overworked staff a cursory nod, and sashayed down the cubicle alleyway. Allen popped his head over the top of his cubicle, prairie dog style, watching the woman’s retreat. Within minutes, he strode to the window as if to confirm that her car was no longer in the parking lot. The absence of his annoying throat clearing indicated he’d snuck out without bothering with a goodbye.

  Seriously not going to miss that dude in the least.

  Valerie sat in Jac’s cube to help her double check the accuracy of the billing. Right after they submitted the billing records for delivery, Valerie had hustled out of the building as well.

  Finally, Jac had the privacy she’d wanted since she’d arrived in the office nearly three hours previously. She wandered to the storeroom and found a cardboard box large enough to load some of her personal effects. She hesitated to take too much for fear it would be noticed and reported to Ted before she had the opportunity to speak to him.

  Before she did inventory of what she could take without it being noticed, she checked his online calendar. A few keystrokes later, she added a meeting for first thing Monday morning. No sense holding off delivering her notice. She had a hefty check in her purse, a ready-made customer . . . and some big-balled plans to be her own boss.

  Carrying out the box, containing files and books she’d brought in over the years, was liberating. The grin on her face felt as big as a house as she stowed the box in the trunk of her car. Taking the scenic route home, she drove past St. Simeon’s Medical Center.

  Giddy excitement about seeing Luke almost made her detour to surprise him at work. Only his four o’clock text caused her to rethink the idea. Contract still not finalized. Heading to the Surgical floor to help. Off at 11. At your house by 11:05? As if he needed permission to come by.

  She sent back a simple message. I can’t wait.

  After two stops, one at Chung Fat’s for takeout, she made it home, deciding to fill the intervening hours by purging her rooms of things she didn’t need. She’d eliminate anything not required for a move to Eugene, which constituted nearly half the contents of her bookshelves. Saving her book collection for the local women’s shelter, Jac scooped up the trade magazines she’d hoarded since college, and tossed them into the black plastic garbage bag at her feet.

  The knickknacks she’d received over the years, and a glass bulb filled with confetti, went into the bag with a clunk. Then the six coffee mugs emblazoned with customer logos. She had a lovely set of matched coffee cups she’d bought when she first moved into her condo. Plus she knew Gramps had a collection of his own she’d get upon her move to the farmhouse. Providing Rowena wasn’t taking them when she moved out.

  The phone rang and Jac glanced at the display. Rowena finally decided to return her call. Her cousin opened the conversation by pledging to pay the original amounts on the tax bills she’d ignored.

  “You’re right,” Ro conceded. “I should have paid better attention. Unfortunately, once I reimburse you, I won’t have the funds for a vacation I have planned. I don’t suppose you’d let me pay you back in installments?”

  Her wheedling and whining about the expense raked on Jac’s eardrums. Jac dropped the magazine she held, sat on the floor, and propped an elbow on the coffee table. “Rowena, I love you like a sister. Really, I do. But the tax bill came in installments and you forgot to pay those.”

  “I won’t forget this time. And besides, we’ll see each other for holidays. You can always remind me.”

  “Ro, I don’t want to be in a position as your creditor.” Rowena was family, and by rights they should try to work this out. Jac stroked a soothing circle around her temple before continuing. “Look, these are the best terms I can afford to offer. You pay for two of the years up front, and by March first, you reimburse me for the final year. Would that be easier?”

  “I’ll
have to scrimp a little on my vacation, but yeah. Thanks, Jac. You’re the best.” Rowena’s breath heaved out in a rush. “I can’t believe you’re quitting your job to move to the boonies. I hate it here.”

  Jac went back to sorting through her magazine collection, dropping another issue into the trash bag. “Jeez, Ro. Why did you stay so long? We could have found a tenant for the house and you could have lived in the city.”

  Her cousin laughed. “I know, right? I just never found an apartment I wanted enough to go through the hassle of moving again. Now I have and I’m ready to go. I’ll be out by next Saturday. What are you going to do with Gramps’ farm?”

  “I’m going to make it productive again. The soil is great for herbs, and I’ve got an agreement in place with a client. Business is already good.” And with Jules as an investor, it was bound to get better. “Providing I can get up to speed quickly on the whole agriculture end of things.”

  “You know Gramps set money from the estate aside in case either of us wanted to restart the farm, right?”

  Jac sat up straight. “What?”

  “The estate attorney told me. Gramps set up a separate trust fund for the possibility. If neither of us tried to tap the fund within five years, the money was supposed to be donated to the county fair board to fund an exhibition hall in Gramps’ name.”

  An exhibition hall? The trust fund had to be a pretty hefty. Even the most basic pole building must cost nearly fifty grand. How had she not known about this fund? “Rowena, could you have used the funds to pay off the tax bill?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I talked to the attorney and Gramps was adamant the money could only be used to restart crop production. Talk to the lawyer. You should have the cash for seed money.”

  “Do you know how much is in the account?” Jac tried to keep her hopes grounded. With access to the trust fund, she could use Jules’ money for expansion instead of start-up.