Love Unforgettable: Love in San Soloman - Book Three

by Wells, Denise

  I grab a glass of sparkling wine from a passing server and continue perusing the room.

  “You’re Lovestone?” I turn and see a nice-looking older man standing next to me, gesturing to the logo on my shirt.

  “Yes. Lexie Harrison.” I hold my hand out to shake his.

  “Sawyer Grant,” he says in response as he shakes my hand. His hands are warm and soft, the polar opposite of my own which are usually cold and always a little callused.

  “You’re the winemaker for Unbound.”

  He nods. “I love your wines,” I gush. “The complexity of the nose, the balance of the palate, the full finish. You are amazing. Everything you touch turns to gold.”

  “I’m no ‘winemaker of the year’, but I do okay.”

  I laugh at that, but I’m actually not sure if it’s a joke.

  “Congratulations on that, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Not very many women have ever won the award.”

  “I know, it’s truly an honor. I don’t feel deserving.”

  “Well, you are young. I mean, really, where do you go after this?”

  Is he dissing me?

  “Usually it doesn’t just drop in your lap early on. An award such as this one is strived for a bit longer in a winemaker’s career.”

  He is. What a dick.

  “Hmm. I don’t know. That’s a good point, Sawyer. I guess I’ll just have to win it a few more times then. To make sure I’ve strived appropriately.” I raise my glass at him and walk away.

  Is that what everyone thinks?

  Doesn’t matter. You won.

  You’re right. Chin up.

  I exchange my now empty champagne glass for a full one and continue to wander the room. Hoping that not all my encounters will be like the one with Sawyer Grant.

  I talk to a few more people, all of whom are very nice. As well as a fellow female winemaker, who makes me laugh the rest of the night.

  * * *

  I return to my room after another hour at the mixer, stuffed full of champagne, hors d’oeuvres, and industry gossip, only to realize I never unpacked.

  And it’s as I’m unpacking that I realize I forgot my dress for the awards event.

  Fuck. How does that even happen?

  The way I see it, I have a couple options. I can buy something new tomorrow. I can ask Cole to grab it on his way up here or I can go home and get it. If I ask Cole to get it, he’ll see me before I’m ready to go and I won’t get that moment to wow him. If I go home and get it, I’ll lose most of tomorrow at the conference and there are a few panels I’d really like to see. Plus, my own panel that I am heading. If I have to go buy something new, and I want to see said panels, I need to wait until later in the day to go and I need to make sure I find something suitable. And I’ll be totally short on time to do so. I text Kat and Remi letting them know what I did and that they may need to help Cole get my dress. Then I call Cole and warn him that I may need him to grab my dress from my house before he drives up here.

  “Sweetness, whatever you need. Just let me know. Is this a special dress or something?”

  “No. And it should be easy to spot in my closet, but I can have Kat or Remi grab it for you too. Just tell them it’s the same one I wore to the Law Enforcement Ball.” I give him their phone numbers and tell him that I’ve already texted them.

  “How’s your conference so far?” he asks.

  “It’s good,” I say. Then I tell him about getting pulled on the panel earlier today, but I don’t yet tell him about Sawyer Grant and his chauvinistic attitude. And I’m not sure that I will.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I was reluctant about you coming with me to this thing tomorrow night. I’m happy you are going to be there with me. I still want to keep it on the down low, but I’m happy you’ll be there.”

  “About that . . .”

  “What do you mean about that?” He sounds like he wants to say something more.

  “I’m happy I’ll be there too,” he says. “Hell, I couldn’t be prouder of you. This is a big accomplishment. I Googled it today. You can down play it all you want, but you’ve done something few people do. And you should feel good about this, sweetness.”

  “Thank you,” I smile. “I’m trying. I promise.”

  “That’s my girl.” It makes me feel good when he says that. I like the idea of being his girl. Unless he’s just saying that because it’s a saying. I mean, Kat has said that to me before and I’m not her girl. At least, not like that. Not like in the way I want to be Cole’s girl.

  “Am I?” I ask.

  “Are you what?”

  “Am I your girl?”

  “Sweetness, if you have to ask I have clearly been doing something wrong—”

  “No,” I interrupt. “You haven’t. I just get unsure about things sometimes.”

  “Lexie,” he says. “You are my girl. For as long as you’ll have me, you are my girl.”

  “How can you know that?” I cringe as I ask it. Because I’ve asked it before. And I’ll probably ask it again. I’m so lame that way. Why can’t I just accept what he says and go with it?

  Because people lie.

  All the time.

  “How do you know you like wine?” he counters.

  “’Cause I just know. I drink it. I make it. It’s one of my favorite things in the world. It makes me happy.”

  “Okay then.”

  I laugh. “I’m one of your favorite things in the world and I make you happy?”

  “Yes, sweetness. You are my favorite thing in the world. And you make me very happy.”

  “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

  “I’m planning to change that real soon.”

  “Why, are you on your way to my room?”

  He laughs. “You know, I wish I was. But my girlfriend wouldn’t let me go with her today, imagine that. But, hey, you say the word and I’m there. I don’t care what she says.”

  We talk for a little while longer before hanging up. It’s lighthearted, flirty, and fun. And when we disconnect, I find myself holding my phone to my chest and smiling.

  Chapter 34

  Cole

  The minute Babs tells me what she and Mavis have done, I know that Lexie is going to be furious. Don’t get me wrong, there is a part of me that is feeling as fine as cream gravy it’s about to go down this way, but only because I’m not the one who’s going to catch all hell for it.

  Once Mavis found out that Lexie had won the Winemaker of the Year award she told Babs, who in turn thought it would be the perfect time for Lexie to meet my parents. So, she called and invited them. They agreed it was a great idea and are now flying in later today for the ceremony.

  When Lexie told me she forgot her dress, I reached out to Kat to see if she and Remi thought it would be okay for me to buy her a new dress for the event. They thought it was a good plan, and even agreed to go shopping with me and bring the dress to Lexie ahead of time.

  I’ve booked a suite at the hotel for tonight, so Lexie and I can have a special night together, like I’ve been promising her. Which Kat and Remi thought was romantic. But once they found out my parents were coming, they invited themselves along to the ceremony as well. So now, instead of a low-key event that Lexie originally wanted to attend alone, she’s going to have me, my parents and grandmother, her grandmother, and her two best friends.

  Remi had to call ahead and explain the situation to make sure there would be enough seating and such for us all. She pretended to be Lexie’s assistant who was trying to sort Lexie’s life. Which is how we found out that Lexie is also winning a Wine-O-Vation award for her work in sustainable wine making practices.

  It wasn’t until we were already in the car and on our way to the boutique to find a dress that she told me how she got them to make sure they would have enough room for all of us.

  “It’s not like they were going to provide us with a whole extra table for no reason. So, I told them you had a very special questi
on to ask her,” Remi says.

  “Come again?” I ask, trying hard to keep my composure. Not that I don’t want to marry Lexie someday, but it would be better if people could stop rushing it so much.

  “I know, I know,” Remi says. “I figured it out for you already. It’s not our fault they’ll assume the special question is marriage. So, what you’ll really be asking her is if she’d like to spend the night with you. You know, in your special suite.”

  That relaxes me slightly. “Okay,” I agree. “I can do that.”

  “All right,” Kat says. “Operation Piss-Lexie-the-Fuck-Off is under way.”

  * * *

  I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous about shopping with Kat and Remi, but they’ve assured me that this boutique that we are going to is “fabulous” and will have the “perfect” dress. Once we enter the store, I realize they’re right, because I see THE dress immediately.

  “That’s the one I want.” I point to the dress on the mannequin in the middle of the floor. It’s knee length with a deep V-neck and long sleeves. Its cream colored with sparkles, sheer, and delicate.

  “All right,” Kat says. “Let’s go see how much it is.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say. “That’s the one I want.”

  “Okay, then,” Remi says.

  I turn to the salesperson. “I’d like that dress in a size . . .” I look to Remi and Kat for guidance.

  “Four,” Remi says and the same time that Kat says, “Two.” They turn to each other and Remi says, “Okay, two.” At the same time Kat now says, “Four.”

  “Who’s on first?” I ask. All three women look at me blankly.

  Okay, no Laurel and Hardy fans here. Got it.

  “Her hips are about this wide.” I hold my hands out to indicate. Kat and Remi both examine the distance and voice their agreement.

  “Impressive skill,” Remi says.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” I wink.

  “I’ll be right back,” the salesperson says. She brings the dress out a moment later and I know I’ve made the right decision. Lexie is going to look amazing.

  “We need shoes and a clutch as well,” I say. “You got anything strappy in nude with a stiletto heel?”

  All three look at me again, surprise evident on their faces.

  “What? I got sisters. And a momma. I know stuff.”

  The salesperson brings out two different clutches and three pairs of shoes. I pick the shoes that I like, Kat and Remi pick the clutch; I give the girl my credit card and ask her to giftwrap everything.

  “Is that an American Express Black Card?” Kat asks me when the girls hands it back.

  “It is,” I respond.

  “I’ve never seen one in real life. Can I hold it?” she asks again.

  “Uh . . . sure,” I say, handing it to her. “You’re an odd duck, aren’t you?”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Remi chimes in. Kat gives her the finger. Remi sticks her tongue out. The salesperson hands me a bag with everything giftwrapped inside, not batting an eye at their shenanigans, and we are back out in the car in under twenty-five minutes.

  My kind of shopping.

  We go over the game plan one more time. The girls are going to drive up in about an hour to bring Lexie the dress for tonight. Then they will surprise her that they are going with us to the event. In the meantime, Lexie believes that I am bringing the dress with me and will be there an hour or so before the ceremony begins.

  My parents are flying into the San Francisco Airport directly and getting a car service to the hotel. I will be driving Mavis and Babs from San Soloman. My parents were able to get a two-room suite so that Mavis and Babs can stay with them. It’s amazing to me how often suites are still available, even when the hotel is sold out. Since I have a suite for Lexie and me, Kat and Remi will stay in Lexie’s original room.

  My girl will attend the conference as usual and will be none the wiser until we are seated for dinner. At which time she’ll meet my parents. I get a little acid reflux at the thought of it. Not because I think they all won’t like each other, but because this is not something that Lexie and I talked about or planned. And it’s sudden as far as our relationship is concerned. Just because me and my family are all comfortable with the lightning bolt theory, doesn’t mean everyone else is.

  I haven’t known her long enough to gauge the emotional response this will result in. Kat is convinced it will piss Lexie off. Remi thinks she’ll be stressed out but touched. Mavis and Babs don’t care, but that’s mainly because they think they are responsible for this entire relationship. That they have arranged the coupling of Lexie and me, and it would not have happened otherwise.

  I go home after dropping Kat and Remi off at their respective homes. I like those girls. They may be a little odd, but they are solid, no bullshit. Just like Lexie. It makes me happy to know she has people like that in her life. She’s gonna need them after the shock of tonight.

  Chapter 35

  Lexie

  I nailed my panel this morning. It could not have gone better. Plus, throughout the day I made a ton of great connections and learned so many new things. Overall, I had a really good day. Yet, I’m sitting on the bed in the hotel robe with a towel wrapped around my head feeling oddly lonely and melancholy. Especially for someone who is about to win the biggest award of her life. It still bothers me what Sawyer Grant said last night, even though I’m trying for it not to. I can’t shake that others feel the same way, even if I didn’t experience it today. For sure, he’s not going to be the only one harboring those sentiments.

  I should have let Cole come with me yesterday.

  And invited Kat and Remi . . .

  Put your big girl panties on and grow the fuck up.

  I go into the bathroom to blow dry my hair. Then stop for a minute when I think I hear a knock on the door. I wait and hear nothing, so, I resume drying and hear the knock again. Stop the hair dryer, wait, nothing. Start the dryer, hear the knock.

  For fuck’s sake.

  I’m not expecting anyone. I know that Cole isn’t here this early because he hasn’t called about my dress yet. Though if he waits too much longer, he won’t get here on time as it is. I turn the dryer off and go stand by the door. This time I hear the knock. I pull the door open with an aggravated, “Yes?”

  “Surprise!” Remi and Kat are standing there. They’ve both got little overnight bags and grocery bags. For some reason, I immediately start crying.

  “Okay, sweet cheeks, none of that, your eyes are going to swell up before the party tonight,” Remi says as she hugs me. Kat steps in next for a hug.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I ask.

  “Special delivery,” Kat says.

  “Did you really think we’d miss your big night just because you didn’t invite us?” Remi asks.

  They come in and start unloading the grocery bags on the table. I see red vines, Pop Tarts, and a big bag of Smart Pop popcorn. Remi’s bag contains cheese, crackers, olives and salami.

  “You guys thought of everything!”

  Remi turns to me. “Duh. Now let’s open some champagne, the hair and makeup people will be here soon.”

  “Hair and makeup?” I ask.

  “Yep,” Kat replies, making a popping sound with the p.

  “Okay, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this,” I protest.

  “Why the hell not?” Remi asks.

  “Because.”

  “Because isn’t an answer,” Kat says.

  “Because isn’t an answer,” I mimic, because I have the emotional maturity of a five-year old sometimes.

  “Is it because you’re a woman succeeding in a male dominated field and it makes you uncomfortable?” Remi asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, shocked. “That’s part of it.”

  “Don’t be shocked,” Remi says. “Happened to me all the time before I quit to care for the hot invalid in my life. I totally recognize it.”

  “That’s not why you quit,”
Kat says.

  “What’s the other part of it?” Remi asks me.

  “I’m too young.”

  “Right,” Kat says. “Because with age comes talent. There’s no other way to achieve it.”

  “I think I read that in a fortune cookie,” Remi says.

  “You know what I mean,” I say.

  “No, actually I don’t.” Remi pulls the champagne out of the small ice chest they brought with them and hands it to me to open. I don’t think either of them have ever opened a wine bottle on their own when I’m around. She pours us all glasses, and I tell them about Sawyer Grant and what he said.

  “Can I spill a drink on him tonight?” Kat asks.

  “I don’t even know how I’m going to get you in,” I say. “I only have a plus one.”

  “We already got seats, Kat pulled the cancer card.” Remi and Kat share a look when Remi says that, but I don’t have the energy to decipher what it means.

  We toast with our champagne and Remi gets busy arranging little charcuterie platters for us. We hear a knock on the door and Kat goes to let hair and makeup in. They start with me and within twenty minutes I’ve been transformed into the girl who would kick Sawyer Grant’s ass for saying something so sexist and rude. Or, if she missed that chance, the girl who would let her bestie spill a drink on him. Subtle smoky eye makeup, which I didn’t even know was possible, that makes my blue eyes pop, a hint of blush, and a soft pink lip gloss. Whatever they’ve done makes my skin look like porcelain and the effect is awesome!