Blend

by Georgia Beers

  “I think that’s it.” Lindsay nodded. “Now, let’s find a way to keep them coming back.”

  “How’s Zack doing?” Bridget asked, pointing with her chin at the tall redhead taking care of the corner table.

  “Not bad. This is his first Saturday, which is why I started him early, but he seems to be handling it okay so far.” Zack was young, but at twenty-seven, not that young. Lindsay pegged him as one of those guys who’d decided college wasn’t really for him, hoped to learn a trade, hadn’t found one he liked, and was just kind of drifting. She could relate to that. He didn’t know a lot about wine, but he was a quick study and willing to listen and learn. And he had a terrific smile that made the customers comfortable. “He’s got about another hour and he’s off for tonight. He’s good, though. He’ll pick things up.”

  Bridget nodded and they both watched for a beat before she asked, “Hey, have you been to Lakeshore lately? I heard they’re doing wine flights now.”

  “Yeah, I saw that. I’m going to take a trip over there this week, check out what they’re offering.”

  “Maybe you should send the new girl,” Bridget suggested. “What’s her name?”

  “Christi?”

  “Yes. Her.”

  “Why?”

  Bridget shrugged. Her dark hair was in a ponytail and her dark eyes were big when she turned to Lindsay and gave her a look. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “Because the Lakeshore dudes might know who you are. You don’t want them to think you’re spying on them.”

  “We’re not on Bar Rescue, you know.” Lindsay chuckled and gave Bridget a one-armed hug. “But thank you for the suggestion. The queen shall take it under advisement.”

  Bridget groaned as she moved out from behind the bar to help Zack with the crowd. “You’re insufferable.”

  “I think you meant ‘Long live the queen.’ But I translated you.”

  Bridget tossed an eye roll at her over a shoulder and chuckled.

  Zack came behind the bar. “I know which wines to pour, but can you help me with the flight carrier?” he asked. He was kind of the perfect person to bring in a younger crowd. Tall and redheaded, a bit on the scruffy side, but handsomely so, not like he needed a shower.

  “Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.” The door opened and a group of women looked around. “Be right back,” she said to Zack and crossed to the newcomers. “Hi there. Welcome to Vineyard. Table for five?”

  By the time Josh and his friends showed up for their 7:00 reservation, Vineyard was half-full. This was a better-than-usual crowd, but Lindsay didn’t want better-than-usual. She wanted the place filled to capacity. Okay, that might be lofty. She wanted it pleasantly busy. After that, she’d aim for filled to capacity.

  “Follow me,” she said to her stepbrother after she hugged him. He looked great in his khakis and red sweater, so grown up. She couldn’t get over the fact that he was an adult, had been one for years now, that he had a grown-up job and friends who were also adults. To Lindsay, he would always be a boy…the boy she wasn’t. “These are the specials for tonight,” she told the group that consisted of three guys and one woman, all around Josh’s age. “We have flights and wines by the bottle or glass. We’ve also got cheese boards, so take a look and somebody will be by with water.”

  “This place is cool,” Josh commented as he tossed his head to get his sandy, always-a-bit-too-long hair out of his eyes and looked around.

  “I told you.” Lindsay grinned at him, then left them to peruse their options.

  By 8:00, Lindsay had already made the decision not to call last call at her usual 8:45. Vineyard was still two-thirds full and she was perfectly willing to hang out and wait on the remaining customers if they wanted to stay past nine. It would be a good experiment. She’d let Bridget go home at her usual time and work the last hour herself.

  She was standing behind the bar, contemplating this schedule shift when a glance at the door had her heart picking up speed.

  Piper Bradshaw stood there with another woman, one who looked like a softer, friendlier version of her. Piper wore her usual workday attire that made her look like she’d walked right off the cover of Businesswoman Weekly. Tonight it consisted of black dress slacks, a white top, and a black and tan scarf knotted loosely around her neck. Without her heels, Lindsay guessed Piper and the other woman—who wore jeans, a sweater, and flats—were almost exactly the same height. Piper looked around with those unique hazel eyes and her gaze locked on Lindsay’s. And held.

  Lindsay cleared her throat and approached them. “Piper. Hi. How are you?”

  Piper gave a cool nod. “I’m well. You remember my sister, Gina?” she asked, indicating the woman standing next to her. Gina’s hair was a shade lighter, strands of gray shot through. She wore little makeup and had missed out on the dimples Piper had, but she had kind brown eyes and an inviting smile. Way more approachable than Piper. “Gina, this is Lindsay Kent.”

  Gina stuck out her hand and Lindsay grasped it. “It’s been so long, but it’s nice to see you again, Lindsay. My mom speaks very highly of you.”

  “Well, that makes me happy. Nice to see you as well. You guys want to sit and have some wine?” Lindsay indicated a couple of empty tables. “Wherever you’d like.” They chose a table near the windows. Lindsay left them with selections and went to get them water. As she poured it, she marveled at how neither Piper nor Gina popped into Vineyard. Pretty much never. She’d been working there for nearly three years and she’d only met Gina at Mr. Bradshaw’s funeral. Which didn’t mean she never came in—Lindsay didn’t work every single hour they were open. But she was surprised by the apparent disinterest the daughters had in their parents’ business.

  Though Lindsay couldn’t explain why in that moment, she had the sudden feeling all that was about to change.

  * * *

  “God, this place reminds me of Dad.” Gina looked around Vineyard, took in the wood beams, the solid furniture, the sconces.

  “Yeah.” Piper didn’t mention it was exactly the reason she didn’t come very often; she didn’t want to talk about their father. She didn’t want to get into a discussion about emotions and feelings with her sister. Not here. She settled on a wine, saw Lindsay approaching with two water glasses. She wore dark jeans, black ankle boots, and a black long-sleeved V-neck T-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to just below her elbows. A thin silver bracelet hung from her wrist. She wore no necklace, and the expanse of skin left bare and visible by the V-neck drew Piper’s eye without her permission. She forced her focus toward her sister. “You decided?”

  Gina blinked rapidly as if pulled out of a dream. “Oh. Yeah.”

  Lindsay set down the waters. “What can I get you?”

  Gina smiled at her. “We’ll be quick. We know it’s almost closing time.”

  Lindsay waved a hand dismissively, and Piper watched as the bracelet caught the light and glimmered. “No worries. I’m not shoving people out.” She turned to Piper. “In fact, I’m thinking of lengthening our hours, especially on weekends.”

  “Really.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement. Piper cocked her head.

  “I’m thinking ten during the week, maybe eleven on Fridays and Saturdays. I’m not sure yet. I might experiment a little bit.” Lindsay gave a shrug, and Piper saw her throat move as she swallowed. Was she nervous?

  “That would mean longer hours for the staff, which means more pay,” she pointed out.

  Lindsay agreed. “Yes. But it also, hopefully, would mean more business. Which means more money coming in, so…”

  “That would cover the extra staff time,” Gina concluded.

  “Exactly.” Lindsay pointed at her as if she’d won something.

  “I’d like a glass of the Malbec, please,” Piper said, inexplicably needing to hurry this along.

  “Oh.” Gina glanced down at the wine selections on the sheet in front of her, obviously surprised by the abrupt shift. “The Meritage, please.”

 
“Good choice,” Lindsay said, and Piper almost rolled her eyes at the blatant support of yet another cheap blend. “Can I bring you ladies some cheese?”

  “Oh, no.” Gina waved her off. “We just had dinner and I am stupid full. Plus, we had some wine with our food, and I might be a tiny bit tipsy.”

  “Good for you.” Lindsay chuckled, then turned those hypnotic green eyes on her and raised her eyebrows in expectation. Piper was annoyed to feel a catch in her throat. She shook her head, not trusting words to actually form.

  “Okay. Be right back.” And Lindsay left them alone.

  “She’s great,” Gina said, her eyes following Lindsay’s retreating form.

  “She’s okay.” Piper picked up her water and glanced around the wine bar, noting the number of empty tables. A table of four was laughing loudly, an empty board in the center where Piper assumed some cheese used to be. Three women huddled over their table and talked in hushed tones.

  Lindsay returned with their wine. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “She’s really pretty,” Gina said once Lindsay was out of earshot. “Any chance she plays on your team?”

  Piper just looked at her.

  “What? I’m just asking an innocent question.”

  “Your questions are rarely innocent, big sister of mine.”

  Gina sipped her wine. “Oh, that’s good. I was simply wondering if you and she have that in common. That’s all.”

  Piper sighed, recalling her mother telling her when she’d hired Lindsay how nonchalant she was about her sexuality. “Yes, I believe we do.”

  Gina’s eyes widened, her expression one of massive disbelief. “And you haven’t asked her out yet?”

  Piper grabbed her arm. “Would you keep your voice down?” she growled through clenched teeth.

  “Sorry.”

  Gina’s stage whisper was so loud, Piper couldn’t help but smile. “You have the alcohol tolerance of a housefly. You know that, right?”

  “I do!” Gina pouted and hung her head for a beat. Then she snapped it back up and said, “But don’t you think she’s really pretty?”

  Piper followed her sister’s gaze back toward the bar where Lindsay was chatting with a gentleman sitting there alone. She laughed at something he said, the toss of her head exposing a long, elegant throat. Then she lifted a hand and tucked some blond hair behind her ear, and Piper swallowed hard.

  “I love her hair,” Gina said, as if reading Piper’s thoughts. “Not too long, not too short, tons of different blonds, and the style just seems…”

  “Effortless,” Piper said quietly.

  “Yes!” Gina pointed at her much like Lindsay had done earlier. “Effortless. That’s exactly it.” They both leaned slightly toward each other across the table and stared for a bit longer, until Gina whispered, “We’re, like, two creepers staring at this poor girl who has no idea we’re analyzing her look.”

  It was funny for about a second and a half, and then Piper caught herself and sat upright. “How’s your wine?” She picked up her own glass, realizing she had yet to touch it, and took a gulp that was much too large.

  Gina blinked in obvious confusion over the whiplash-inducing change of subject. “It’s good. I said that already.”

  They sat in silence for long moments, Gina still surreptitiously watching Lindsay and Piper making a massive effort to look at anything but Lindsay. After ten minutes, she was surprised to hear herself say, “Is it weird to be here? For you?”

  “You mean because of Dad?” And just like that, Gina seemed completely sober as she rested her brown gaze on Piper’s lighter one. With a reach across the table, Gina closed a hand over Piper’s forearm. “I know it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too. But he loved this place, so I love it.”

  “But you don’t come here any more often than I do.”

  Gina’s smile was sad. “I said it’s hard for me, too.”

  Piper nodded and glanced around one more time, an odd ball of emotion settling itself in the pit of her stomach. “Can we go?”

  They’d barely touched their wine, but Gina seemed to get it. “Sure.”

  Piper made eye contact with Lindsay, who hurried over. “We’re ready for our check.”

  Lindsay’s brow furrowed. “What check?”

  Piper gestured at the table with a hand. “For our wine?”

  “As if I’m going to charge you. Your mom would have my head.” She smiled, and for the very first time, Piper didn’t feel like it was forced. Instead, it was soft and tender and went all the way up to those green eyes, causing the corners to crinkle slightly.

  “You’re sure?” Gina asked, looking from Piper to Lindsay, then settling her gaze on Piper. Which Piper felt.

  “Absolutely. I’m glad you guys stopped in. You should come back.” Lindsay took their glasses, told them to get home safely, and left them.

  The sisters stood and put their coats on. Once outside the door, Gina leaned close. “You two would make beautiful babies,” she teased.

  Piper groaned. “Oh, my God, shut up.”

  Gina just laughed and laughed.

  Later that night, Piper poured herself a glass of the merlot she’d opened a day or two before and took it upstairs with her. She kicked off her heels, removed her slacks and hung them in the closet, and took off her top. In the en suite bathroom, she ran a hot bath and just dipped herself in long enough to warm up. Despite the fact that she’d been out on the lake that morning, the damp, cool evening had left a chill in her bones she couldn’t seem to shake. Once in her striped flannel pajamas, she got into bed, propped up some pillows, and grabbed the latest Julie James book off her nightstand.

  She sipped her wine, mentally chuckling at how shocked some of her work colleagues would be to know she read romance novels. They probably thought she read business books (and she did; two sat on her nightstand at that very moment). Books about how to fire somebody or how to ask difficult questions during a job interview. Most of them didn’t know she kayaked either. She was pretty sure they all thought of her as cold. A bossy bitch. Of course, if she were male, she’d be a hero and they’d love her, ask her to join them for Happy Hour. Didn’t matter, though. She was very, very good at her job and wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. They had their assumptions about her, and that was fine. She let them believe what they wanted. Didn’t matter. Even the whispers about an impending merger didn’t rattle her. She was tougher than most of her male coworkers and she knew it. So did some of them.

  Edgar chose that moment to come visit, curling himself into a warm, purring ball against her hip. She gave him gentle scratches for a moment, then turned back to what she’d been doing. Wine glass back on the nightstand, she settled in and began to read. She’d made it about five pages in when one word caught her eye and wouldn’t let go.

  Effortless.

  Her thoughts instantly deserted that novel and took her back to Vineyard, to Gina talking about Lindsay, to Piper using the word to describe Lindsay’s look.

  Effortless.

  Piper hated to admit it, but Lindsay Kent was one of those women who—it seemed to Piper, anyway—had to hardly try at all. While it was true that she thought Lindsay should dress more professionally, more upscale in order to project the sophistication of the wine bar, she was also envious of that ability to throw something on and look great. Piper’s routine was not effortless. She spent both time and money on getting herself to look the way she thought she should for her job. Her clothes weren’t cheap. Neither was her hair stylist. She was not a natural when it came to putting an outfit together, so she tended to buy right off the mannequin in the store or the model on the website. It took a lot of painstaking effort, and for that, she disliked Lindsay Kent just a bit more.

  Lindsay’s hair was ridiculous, frankly. The color was gorgeous, the many different shades of gold all blending harmoniously. The cut was…well, it was simple, to be honest. Nothing at all fancy. It was layered, the ends skimming her shoulders. Like
the rest of her, her hair was casual and fun, carefree. And when she tucked it behind her ear…

  Piper swallowed hard and grabbed her wine, almost toppling the glass in her irritation.

  “Enough,” she said aloud. Edgar opened his big yellow eyes to look at her. The empty room echoed her voice back to her and then the silence settled back in. “Enough,” she said again, but this time, it was a whisper.

  Piper was hard on herself. Harder than anybody else. It was probably her biggest flaw, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She was her own harshest critic, her own worst enemy. She excelled at beating herself up over mistakes, misjudgments, whatever. Her father used to worry she’d give herself a heart attack from all the stress she took on. Sometimes, she agreed with him. She could hear him in her head sometimes. Like now.

  Baby girl of mine, you have got to ease up on yourself. We all make mistakes, even you. So what? Let ’em go. Move on. Just breathe. Just be.

  Whenever she started to worry too much, to freak out, she’d do her best to close her eyes and channel him, try to hear his voice. Just breathe. Just be.

  With a sigh, Piper dropped her head back against the headboard. “God, I miss you, Dad,” she whispered. “I miss you so much.” The book in her lap, she sat like that for a long moment before saying, “And this is when it’s good to have a cat.” She smiled softly at the black and white ball of fur next to her. He looked up at her, yawned widely, but held her gaze with those big eyes of his. He got her. Edgar totally got her, she was sure of it, and for that, she loved him more than she could ever put into words. His company, the warmth of his presence, it kept her grounded, especially at moments like this when her emotions threatened to wash her away like a shell on the beach. She reached out, ran the back of her finger along his soft cheek.

  She finished her wine, brushed her teeth, and settled back into bed. Giving up on the book, she clicked on the TV and turned out the lamp. Deciding on a Hallmark movie she’d already seen but had enjoyed, she snuggled down into the covers to watch and hopefully, drift off to sleep. But the lead was a blond woman, tall, casually dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.