“Okay.” Piper took a deep breath and launched in. Gina had known about the firing because Matthew had shared that with her, but she didn’t know details. Piper told her everything about it, why she’d done what she’d done, Lindsay’s part in it, the resulting fallout. Without giving Gina any opportunity to interrupt with questions or comments, she launched into the details about Lindsay. The date at the fishing shack, the mind-melting sex. She finished up with Piper’s ridiculously misguided blame and consequent firing of her.
“That’s it.” Piper felt a strange sense of relief having laid it all out like that.
There was silence on the other end of the call.
“Gina? You there?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m done. You can talk now.”
Another beat of silence went by before Gina finally said, “I have no idea what to say to all of that.”
Piper grunted. “Yeah, well, if you’re thinking of yelling at me and telling me what a complete asshole I am, please don’t. I’ve told myself that enough times over the past couple of days. I don’t need to hear it from others. I just…” She blew out a breath of frustration. “I need to fix it and I’m not sure how.”
“I’m assuming you mean with Lindsay.”
“Yes.”
“I agree. You really do. You’ve texted?”
“About a dozen times,” Piper said. “No response.”
“You’ve called?”
“No answer.” Piper pursed her lips. “I was thinking of going to her house…”
“No.” Gina said it quickly. Firmly. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s her territory. One, you can’t really invade her space to speak your piece. That’s not cool. And two, it’s not an even playing field. You’re at a disadvantage. You have to catch her someplace neutral.”
Piper was nodding as Gina spoke. “Yeah, that’s a good point.”
“You know what you want to say to her?” Gina’s voice had softened a bit.
“Some, yeah. The rest will come to me. I hope.”
“Well, you know some of her routine. Think about what she does each day and if there’s a neutral place where she might be willing to talk to you.”
“She won’t answer my texts, so it’s not like I can set up a date and time.” Piper rolled her eyes.
“You’re the one who messed up, so it’s only fair that you’re the one who has to do all the work here. You’re a smart girl, P. You’ll figure it out.”
Gina was right, because even as she was speaking to her, Piper was already thinking of the perfect place. If she could just get Lindsay to stop and listen to her for five minutes, maybe she could fix this whole thing. Maybe she could get Lindsay to come back to Vineyard.
“I will. Thanks, Gina.”
“Any time, little sister of mine.” She paused before asking, “What about you? Are you okay? I mean, getting fired…”
“Sucks. Hugely.” Piper sat back in the chair, somehow feeling a tiny bit lighter. “But I’ll be okay. What about you? Enjoying your summer break?” The topic shift was obvious, but Piper needed it and Gina seemed to understand. As she talked about her upcoming vacation and how stressful the planning had become, how hard it was to wrangle the kids, Piper scanned the office. There were papers tacked to the wall, schedules and memos and ads. There were three piles on the desk, but they were neat. Lindsay was obviously organized and took pride in her work, things Piper knew but had conveniently forgotten in her drunken tirade. She listened to Gina with one ear, but much of her attention was elsewhere. She felt off balance, like she was standing on a precipice and the rocks beneath her feet were precariously unstable. She was either going to steady herself or she was going to plunge over the side of a cliff; she had no idea which. But it didn’t matter because she was charging ahead anyway.
Piper was going to fix this, even if it killed her.
* * *
Tuesday’s forecast predicted hot and muggy weather, so Lindsay wanted to get Rocket outside, get him to burn off some energy, before it became too sticky for either of them to move.
It had been a rough weekend, so getting out into the fresh air, among the trees and near the water, felt good. Like a relief somehow. Lindsay had stayed holed up in her house for pretty much the entire past three days, aside from dropping the sign back off at Vineyard. She’d asked Bridget to let her know when Piper wasn’t there so she could bring it by without having to run into her. The text had come Sunday night.
Had to send her home before I killed her. Safe to drop off sign if you want.
Bridget’s words had been bittersweet. On the one hand, a part of Lindsay got a little tingle of satisfaction knowing Piper wasn’t running things like the well-oiled machine she probably thought it would be. On the other hand, most of Lindsay did not find joy in Piper’s failures. Despite how horrible Piper had made her feel.
Doing her best not to reflect back on that awful conversation didn’t always work. Like now. Piper’s words echoed in Lindsay’s head as if she were standing right in front of her again.
You’re just the bartender.
Of everything she’d said, of every hurtful sentence, that one was the worst. When Lindsay looked back, she saw the fight as a movie. Each terrible thing Piper said backed Lindsay up until she hit a window, fell through, and was dangling from the sill. And with those words—telling her she was just a bartender—Piper stepped on Lindsay’s fingers, sending her plunging down into oblivion.
How could Piper think Lindsay was trying to erase Mr. B.? Lindsay had such a hard time with that…although when she really thought about it, she could sort of see how it might look that way from where Piper sat. But it wasn’t at all Lindsay’s intention, and she wished so badly Piper had given her the chance to say so, to apologize for making her feel that way.
For three days, Lindsay had done her best to cut Piper some slack. She’d obviously been fired on Friday—her comment couldn’t really be read any other way—and Lindsay wondered if Piper had done what she’d been trying not to: warned her staff about upcoming layoffs. Lindsay secretly hoped she had. Even if it got her fired, it was the right thing to do, and Lindsay had to believe Piper knew that.
She whistled for Rocket, who’d gotten ahead of her. They were nearing the parking lot, and she liked to leash him so he didn’t hop his overly-friendly, usually mud-covered butt into some stranger’s car to say hello. When he didn’t come right back, she picked up her pace and whistled again. She’d started to jog and was just about to the edge of the lot when she skidded to a stop.
Piper.
She was in a squat, giving tons of attention to Rocket who, of course, was ecstatic to see her. His thick tail wagged so hard it made his entire body sway from one side to the other as he made little whimpers of happiness. Piper looked tired. Spent. There were dark circles under her eyes and her color was drab. And yet she still looked beautiful. Lindsay didn’t want her to. Lindsay wanted to see her, be completely turned off, and stand there stone-faced. Unaffected. What’s that phrase? Best laid plans…? Yeah, because Piper was gorgeous, even in her state of obvious exhaustion. Even in her casual attire. Especially in her casual attire. She had workout pants on. Black. Tight-fitting. Knee-length so her bare legs were visible from the knees down and Lindsay had an unexpected flash of having her hands, her mouth all over those ridiculous legs. Her shirt was white, short-sleeved, with a small logo on the left chest that Lindsay couldn’t quite make out. Flip-flops on her feet. Dark, wavy hair in a bouncy ponytail that Lindsay had decided the first time she’d seen it was her favorite look on Piper. It made her face more visible, those dimples easily seen. They only made a quick, peek-a-boo appearance as she looked up and saw Lindsay, though. Her smile was uncertain, hesitant, and came and went in a snap.
“Hi,” she said as she stood up, one hand still on Rocket’s head as he bumped against her thigh.
Lindsay tried to say hi, had to clear her throat first
. “Hey.”
“Do you have a minute?” Piper asked.
With a shrug, Lindsay replied, “I have a lot of minutes now. What with being unemployed and all.”
Piper nodded, bit down on her bottom lip, which shouldn’t have been sexy given the situation, but was anyway.
Lindsay silently cursed her.
“I know. I wanted to talk to you about that.”
Lindsay closed the distance between them, but only long enough to clip on Rocket’s leash. Then she stepped back again, putting a safe amount of space between them, having to drag Rocket with her.
Piper was nervous. Lindsay finally looked at her directly enough to see it. Her hands had a slight tremble in them, which Lindsay could see in the papers she held in one hand. The corners shook just a bit, as if some unseen force was sending a vibration through them. Her eye contact was there, but spotty. She’d look at Lindsay, then look away, then look back, as if holding it for too long was painful. Lindsay had the fleeting thought that she wanted to help her, wanted to ease her discomfort somehow.
You’re just the bartender.
Yeah, that desire to help went right out the window. Lindsay stood silently, folded her arms across her chest, and waited.
Piper shifted her weight from foot to foot, then chuckled uneasily. “I had this all mapped out in my head, what I was going to say. Seems it’s all left me.”
Lindsay shrugged. “Well, I need to get Rocket home to—”
“No, wait.” Piper held up a hand. “Please.”
Lindsay ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth and waited.
“I’m sorry.” Piper nodded once, as if coming to an understanding of some sort. “I guess that’s the best place to start here. I’m sorry, and I should’ve said it sooner.”
“You should have.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, too. So I’m doubly sorry.”
Piper cleared her throat, and Lindsay wondered if she was buying time while she sorted out her words.
“I was in a really bad place on Friday.” She held up a hand again as if Lindsay had been about to interrupt. “Which is not an excuse. I know that. But I wanted to let you know my state of mind, because it didn’t help me with clarity.” She cleared her throat a second time. “Thursday night, I had a secret meeting with my staff and I warned them that the upcoming merger would mean layoffs for them. My bosses found out, and Friday morning, I was fired.”
Lindsay made eye contact then, wanted to say something, but thought better of it.
A very subtle smile tugged up one corner of Piper’s mouth, though. “It was the right thing to do,” she said quietly.
Lindsay gave a nod, feeling oddly proud of Piper, but again, deciding that it wasn’t the right time to say so.
“I know that now, but on Friday, I was a wreck. I’ve never been fired before. I don’t get fired. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t handle it well. I got pretty drunk.” At Lindsay’s silent, “duh,” Piper chuckled. “Yeah. Not my smartest decision. I would normally have talked to my dad about it, but…” Her smile faded. “You ended up taking the brunt of my frustration, my anger, my fear, my missing of my father. I piled it all onto you, and I’m so very sorry about that.”
There was genuine emotion on Piper’s face, something Lindsay hardly ever saw, and something about it seemed to mend her heart just a tiny bit. It was like her heart had developed a series of cracks, and Piper’s words were the glue. They spread across one of the cracks, fusing the flesh back together. A small lump had developed in Lindsay’s throat, preventing words. She nodded.
“I’d like for you to come back to Vineyard. I have many reasons for that.”
Lindsay found her voice. “Like what?”
It was Piper’s turn to nod, as if she’d expected this question. “One, we need you. The staff needs you. The customers are asking about you. It doesn’t feel the same there without your energy. Two, I suck at your job.”
Lindsay felt the smile, couldn’t help it.
“Seriously. I almost killed Mr. Can I Taste That the other day. And I don’t know how to place the orders. I know nothing about the cheese. The staff hates me.” She tipped her head from side to side. “Rightfully so, really. And three, I thought you might like the opportunity to confront—and then fire—Zack.”
Lindsay raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What?”
“Yeah, he’s the one who’s been taking your ideas over to Lakeshore. I saw him there on Friday, talking with the owner. He seemed pretty comfortable.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. I mean, I’ll do it if you want. I’ve fired people before.” The shock on her face was immediate. “Like…other than you.”
Lindsay stared at her for a beat before they both allowed themselves to laugh just a little.
“One more thing,” Piper said. “I did a little research and noticed that you hadn’t signed yourself up for the sommelier certification, so…” She handed the papers over to Lindsay. “I took the liberty of doing it for you. Whether or not you want to come back to Vineyard, you should do it. You’re a natural and you love it. That’s obvious.” Piper kept her eyes on the papers as Lindsay slowly reached out and took them. “It’s Tuesday and Thursday nights for six weeks. I can cover those nights at Vineyard. I mean, if you decide to come back. And if you don’t decide to come back, you should go anyway. You’re all registered. Your fee is paid either way. It’s the least I can do.”
And just like that, Piper seemed to run out of steam. She stopped talking. She toed the dirt on the ground. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on Rocket. Lindsay saw her swallow once and shift her weight again, like she wasn’t sure what her next move should be.
“I’ll need some time to think,” Lindsay finally said, her voice quiet.
Piper nodded. “Oh, sure. Sure. Take all the time you need. That’s fine. Totally.”
“Okay. Is that all?” They stood there, gazes held. This was good. It was all good…but there was more. More Lindsay needed to hear. More she needed to feel. She waited until those hazel eyes darted away and Piper shifted her weight yet again. Lindsay swallowed, sighed quietly, shook her head slowly back and forth. “You just don’t get it, do you?” She smiled sadly. She wasn’t angry. She didn’t raise her voice. Piper’s eyes widened, her confusion obvious, and they stood there for another ten or fifteen seconds before Lindsay held up the papers and said, “All right. We’ve got to get home.”
Piper stayed rooted to her spot, even as Lindsay watched her in the rearview mirror as she pulled away.
No. Piper didn’t get it.
But would she ever?
“Wow,” Angela said later that day as they sat on Lindsay’s back deck sipping a velvety Merlot and munching on extra sharp cheddar with stone ground crackers. “I’m going to bet that took a huge amount out of her.”
Lindsay squinted at her friend. “What do you mean?”
It was very warm out, but Lindsay had opened the umbrella that stood between their chairs, and the shade kept them comfortable. Rocket lounged on the wood by Lindsay’s feet, exhausted from his day of running through the trees and chasing squirrels in the backyard. When Angela had called Sunday morning and Lindsay had filled her in on the latest happenings, they’d set up this date immediately, and she’d come right from her office, still in her dress slacks and high heels.
“I mean that from everything you’ve told me about this woman, apologizing isn’t something she does often. Because she’s usually right.”
“Or thinks she is.”
“That, too. My point being, she made some huge effort here. You’ve ignored her texts. You’ve ignored her messages. She could’ve just given up.”
“And she didn’t.”
“And she didn’t.” Angela held up a finger while she took a sip of her wine. “And not only did she not give up, she found you.”
“She stalked me.”
“That, too. And not only did she find you, she registere
d you for the wine thingy.” Angela raised her eyebrows and gave a nod, as if she’d just made a very important point.
Lindsay couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up. “Always with the bright side,” she said.
“Hey, the bright side is important.” She joined Lindsay in her mirth, but then became serious again. “I just think you should take into consideration that it was obviously important to her to apologize to you. Yeah, she was late to the party with it, but some people need time to retreat and think about stuff, you know? And, call me crazy, but I think you really like this one. Like, really like her.” They both knew what Angela meant, but left the words unspoken. “I think she moves you.”
She moves me. That was an alarmingly accurate way to describe how Lindsay felt about the time she’d spent with Piper. She looked off in the distance and sipped her wine. After a beat, she said softly, “Yeah, that’s exactly it. And I need to hear that I move her, too. You know?”
Angela nodded. “I do.” Another moment of quiet passed before she reached over the space between them and grasped Lindsay’s forearm. “Don’t write her off completely until you think about it. Promise me.”
Lindsay nodded her assent. “I promise.”
She’d never broken a promise to Angela in all the time they’d been friends and she wouldn’t start now. What amused her was that there was no way Lindsay could write her off, even if she wanted to. Because Piper Bradshaw had been pretty much all she’d thought about since Friday. And all the texts, all the messages had done nothing other than ensure she’d keep thinking about her. She didn’t mean to sigh as loudly as she did, but Angela heard her and tightened her grip on Lindsay’s arm.
“Did you talk to Maya and Bert about her?” Lindsay’s responding snort was all Angela needed. “Let me guess. They told you to run away. Far and fast.”
“Pretty much, yeah. Mostly Maya, but…”
“Bert will agree with anything her wife says.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
A beat went by before Angela said quietly, “It’ll be okay, Linds. You got this.”
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