“Ah, I’m an old man, but you appear to be aging backward.”
“Quit flirting with the employees,” Mrs. Bianchi teases. “We need to find her a young, sexy man.”
“Hey, I’m sexy.” Mr. Bianchi smiles warmly at her.
“Yes, you are.” Mrs. Bianchi kisses him on the cheek. “But you’re old and mine.” She winks at me.
“True. Sorry, Jessica, we will just have to find you some other hunk,” Mr. Bianchi says, and we all laugh.
“Okay, but only if I can have something close to what you two have.” I smile.
When I got pregnant with Amelia my junior year of college, I wasn’t sure what that meant for my education or future. My mom and Grant’s mom felt it was important I finish school, so they helped as much as they could while still holding us responsible for our family. I worked hard, but I cut back when I needed to. Because of their help, it only took me one extra semester to obtain my bachelor’s degree. After graduation, I was nervous about being a mom with a new career and how I would balance everything. Grant was still in dental school, so we couldn’t afford for me to be a stay-at-home mom at that point. He encouraged me to go on interviews and keep an open mind. Bianchi Winery was my first interview, and I immediately knew I wanted the job. I started as a staff accountant working under a very smart and talented woman. Mrs. Bianchi took an interest in me and included me in meetings and sent me to industry conferences when she could. With their support, I worked hard and learned as much about the business as I could. Two years later, when Susan retired, Mrs. Bianchi promoted me to controller. This place has become my second home. Mrs. Bianchi cried with me when I told her about Grant’s affair.
Mrs. Bianchi says, “You really have done an amazing job helping me secure the investors we need. I’m going to give a small presentation tonight, but I want you to relax and enjoy the evening.”
She makes me blush with her kind words.
“You’ve earned it, and I am so proud of you,” Mr. Bianchi adds, and tears well in my eyes. He is the closest thing I’ve had to a father figure.
“Thank you, I will. But please let me know if I can help with anything.”
“Go get a glass of wine.” Mrs. Bianchi squeezes my arm as she walks past me to greet the guests who have started to arrive.
Ryan enters through a back door and sneaks up behind me. “Hey there.” He taps me on the shoulder.
“Ryan! You startled me.” I actually jump a little.
“Sorry.” Ryan frowns at me. “Let me get you a glass of wine to make amends.”
“Sounds good. What are we pouring tonight?”
“The new Syrah, the Cab, and the Vernaccia blend.”
“Well, you’re the expert.”
“I vote for the Syrah tonight. It turned out really good.” Ryan always lights up when he talks about wine.
“Perfect.” I wait while Ryan asks the bar server to pour us two glasses of the deep-crimson wine.
As I’m waiting, I inadvertently eavesdrop on the conversation of two women standing next to the bar. They appear to be in their early-twenties. Their giggling and animated voices are hard to ignore. One is filling the other in on an awkward date she recently had with a young man from her economics class when they suddenly start whispering. Feeling a little let down that I’m not going to get to hear the end of the story, I follow their sight line to see what has caught their attention.
A man in a navy suit has walked into the room. He is wearing a crisp white shirt under his suit, with the top button undone. It’s an effortlessly sexy style, and he carries it well. They, along with several other females in the room, have taken notice of the self-assured, beautiful stranger.
I see the handsome exterior, but I also see the danger lurking underneath. This man is not a stranger to me, and I know firsthand the consequences of falling for him. This is the man I have promised my mother, my friends, and myself I am going to stay away from.
I successfully avoid Luke during cocktail hour by engaging in conversation with other guests and otherwise pretending to answer texts. Every time I steal a glance around the room, I find Luke engaged with an ever-growing circle of people. Maybe he’s avoiding me too. Maybe tonight won’t be complicated after all. I’m internally congratulating us on finding a way to navigate the situation when the announcement to take our seats for dinner is given.
Ryan pulls out my chair for me and I take my seat next to him. My eyes grow wide when Luke walks over and sits directly across from him.
“Good evening,” Luke says. He must have made some of his own adjustments to the seating arrangements. “I’m glad we’re sitting by each other during dinner. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”
I take a big drink of wine.
The table is engaged in lively, wine-fueled small talk, so no one takes notice when Luke leans across to mouth to me that I look beautiful. I’m not sure if it’s the wine, the compliment, or the fact that Luke is staring at me in a very seductive way, but I experience a rush of warmth. This is not the professional lane I thought we were planning to stay in.
After everyone has settled in, Mrs. Bianchi gives a short but inspired presentation of the finalized expansion plans. I scan the room to read reactions. Everyone appears genuinely excited and engaged. It is my turn to be proud of her.
The waitstaff delivers our salads, and Luke’s attention turns to a conversation Ryan is having about the winemaking process. Luke is polite and listens patiently, but I know him too well. I sense there is something he doesn’t like about Ryan.
Being this close to Luke is proving once again to be more difficult than I anticipated. He makes me feel things I don’t want to, things that make me uneasy. I disguise my struggle by engaging in a lively conversation with Mrs. Everett. She is a longtime friend of the Bianchis, and I always enjoy our interactions.
We’re halfway through dinner when Ryan grabs my elbow. He asks if I would like another glass of the Syrah. It’s subtle, but I catch Luke’s fist tighten as his eyes narrow slightly. I blink, and Luke has already hidden his reaction. He continues to talk with the young woman sitting next to him. She is one of the women from the conversation I listened in on during cocktail hour. She laughs too loudly at everything Luke says and touches his arm frequently. I return my attention to Mrs. Everett.
Unfortunately, the conversation is short-lived when Mrs. Everett excuses herself to go say hello to another guest. As a result, I’m forced to reengage with the rest of the table. The topic of conversation has turned to dating. I can’t think of a topic I would less like to discuss in present company.
“It’s so hard to meet good men these days,” says the woman next to Luke. It’s such an uninteresting thing to say that I start to roll my eyes, then I remember where I am and stop. I reach my hand up to my eye and pretend like I have something caught in it. I don’t fool Luke, who grins at me.
“It’s hard to find a good woman too, but they are out there. You have to keep your eyes open and be patient. Dare to see people in a different light. Sometimes the right person is closer than you think.” He’s quick about it, but Ryan’s glance at me doesn’t go unnoticed, not by me or Luke.
“Finding a good woman isn’t hard. Holding on to her is a different matter. Men tend to mess things up, and women tend to not know what they want.” Luke stares at me.
Ryan nods at Luke. “I agree. Women say they want a nice guy, but when they have one, they don’t appreciate him.”
Luke stares Ryan down. “I don’t think we do agree. A woman doesn’t need a nice boy. She needs someone who will treat her with respect but who is man enough to satisfy all her needs.” He turns to me, eyes full of heat.
Mrs. Everett, who has since returned to the table, chokes on her wine. The woman sitting next to Luke widens her eyes. Ryan is clearly intimidated by Luke’s intensity and laughs nervously. I stare back at Luke and mouth stop to hi
m.
“I think we can all agree dating is hard, and good wine makes it a little easier.” Ryan raises his glass to toast and attempts to lighten the mood. Several of us, but not Luke, raise our glasses too. Ryan’s attempt is successful, and several conversations spring up, centering on topics like the weather, the upcoming holidays, and what football teams are showing promise this year.
I’m defending my position that the Green Bay Packers have the talent to go all the way this season with Mr. Wallace, another investor. He is knowledgeable about the sport, and I start to relax, enjoying the dark chocolate cake that has been served for dessert.
Ryan taps my arm to gain my attention once again. When I turn to face him, he places his hand on mine on the table. The gesture feels too intimate coming from him, and it makes me uncomfortable. I attempt to appear casual when I pull it back into my lap.
Ryan shakes off the rejection. “I was hoping I can steal you for a dance later.”
“We’ll see.” Dancing with Ryan wouldn’t be a wise idea. I would tell him so, if we didn’t have an audience. Luke is listening to our exchange. I turn my attention back to a conversation at the other side of the table.
The band ups its tempo as the waitstaff attends to the tables once again, offering to bring coffee and tea. Mr. and Mrs. Bianchi take to the dance floor, and several other couples follow suit.
Luke’s voice startles me. “Jessica. Accompany me out onto the dance floor?” He is already standing when I look over.
Although he poses it as a question, his eyes tell me it’s more of a demand. He’s an investor, and I’m at a business function, so I won’t decline even though I don’t particularly like having him tell me what to do. The woman who has been trying to capture his attention all night gives a deflated sigh, and I hear her ask Ryan if he would like to dance as I rise and set my napkin on the table.
We walk to the center of the room and join the other couples on the dance floor. The jazz music playing is seductive and sensual. Combined with the wine, it’s creating an environment that is not appropriate for me to be interacting with Luke in.
Luke grasps my right hand and wraps his free arm around my waist. He pulls me closer. My pulse quickens. Luke holds me firmly, and I instinctively follow his lead. I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“What’s going on between you and the jellyfish?” he asks after a few seconds that feels like hours.
“Jellyfish?” I lean back to see his face.
He nods toward Ryan, who is dancing with the woman from the table. “No backbone.”
“What do you mean?” I peer over his shoulder when looking into his eyes feels too intimate.
“That guy is a total wimp. He’s clearly interested in you, but he’s afraid to stake his claim. He just let me take you away.”
“First of all, you did not take me away from anyone. I’m dancing with a business associate at a business dinner because you asked me to. It would’ve been rude to say no.”
“Did you want to say no?” Luke interrupts.
“Second, I don’t want anyone to ‘stake a claim’ on me. Sorry to disappoint your overactive imagination, but Ryan is just a friend.” I keep my voice low. I don’t want to draw attention to whatever is brewing between us.
“If Ryan was my friend and ever looked at me the way he looks at you, we would have to have a long talk about boy parts and girl parts and what parts I’m interested in seeing without any clothes on.”
“You really are something else, you know that?” I know how Ryan has acted this evening, and I will have to straighten some things out with him, but I have no interest in hearing Luke’s take on things.
“Come on, Jessica. That guy has been eye-fucking you all night.” He doesn’t hide the frustration in his voice. “If I were him, I wouldn’t have given you the opportunity to dance with someone else.”
“Ryan is more respectful than that. He wouldn’t act like such an ass,” I snap back with more emotion than I mean to.
“Ryan is a coward. A man who doesn’t know how to get what he wants.”
“Right now you’re acting like a man who wants to get slapped.” I grit my teeth.
“Seriously, that guy could never give you what you need.”
“You have no idea what I need. Since this dance was some misguided effort on your part to prove something to Ryan, we’re done here.” I try to pull away, but Luke holds me against him.
He leans down to whisper, “Oh, but I do know what you need.” His breath on my ear gives me the chills. “And I never said I asked you to dance for Ryan’s sake. That was merely a fortunate side effect. I asked you to dance because I wanted to.”
We move without talking for a few seconds. It feels right and wrong at the same time. I notice Luke’s body relax.
“What are you doing, Luke?” I sigh.
“I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve sent some mixed signals.” His voice hums softly in my ear. “I didn’t know what to make of the emotions seeing you again stirred up in me. It started at the reunion, when I found out you were getting divorced. You walked away that night, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t make myself stay away.”
“Is that why you showed up here? You tracked me down?”
“You really think it was a coincidence I ended up here two weeks after the reunion?”
“I haven’t thought much about it.” A lie.
Luke laughs softly. I hate that he finds it funny when he reads through my bullshit. “Don’t get me wrong. Aaron and I are always searching for new companies to invest in, so when I found out where you worked, the pieces started fitting together. I told Aaron about the opportunity and went to that meeting thinking it could potentially be a good business opportunity. I thought it could also be a chance at closure for us. But I couldn’t resist. I had to kiss you.”
“Yes, and then you disappeared.”
“I was trying to do what I thought was right. I convinced myself I got it out of my system and we could just work together. I came to the harvest event with every intention of keeping things professional. I realized two things that day. First, I did not like the way Ryan looked at you.”
“Jealously is a very unbecoming quality.”
“Second, I realized that it was going to be impossible to keep things professional between us.”
“Excuse me, I have been professional. Don’t confuse your issues with mine.”
“Jess, you forget how well I know you.”
“Knew me,” I correct.
“You haven’t changed all that much. Your heart still races every time I touch you. I felt it that day in the conference room and when I carried you to your office, and I can feel it now.”
I unsuccessfully try to pull away again. “My heart is racing because I’m angry.”
“After that day in your office, my plan was to stay away again, since I can’t seem to keep my hands off you. It took everything in me not to kiss you again.”
I remind myself to breathe.
“You were right to tell me to pick a lane. I planned on stepping back and letting Aaron handle this investment. I figured that would make it easier for us, but someone once told me that the easy road is for average people, and I’m not average. It kind of stuck with me.” He’s using my own words against me, words I said to encourage him to pursue his dream of playing professional baseball.
“Sometimes the easy road is the right road.”
“I’m going to be blunt. I know you want me, and I definitely want you. I also know you well enough to know you’re fighting those feelings because they scare you.”
Damn right they scare me. Our high school relationship almost destroyed me. “We work together now. When I said pick a lane, I meant the one where we interact on a professional level. I’m sure we can figure out a way to coexist. Or if it’s easier, we can avoid
each other.”
“Those aren’t options for me anymore. You’re too bright. Looking at you is like driving into the afternoon sun. I get blinded and swerve out of my lane every time.” He brushes my hair back and places his lips below my ear. “You look amazing tonight.”
“That’s it, we’re done here.” I summon every ounce of self-preservation I have and pull away. I need to shut this down before he derails me and my career in one night. I need to walk away while I still can. This time when I push away from Luke, he lets me go.
I walk, as quickly as I can in my three-inch heels, out the doors of the barrel room and back toward my office. The cool autumn air feels refreshing as it dances across my overheated skin. I hear footsteps behind me, footsteps that are quicker than mine. As I round the corner of the warehouse, a warm hand encircles my wrist. Luke pulls me back toward him and leans me up against the side of the building. His hands shoot up to my neck, and he lifts my head so I’m forced to look into his eyes. His midnight eyes are mesmerizing. I lick my lips, and he accepts the invitation to taste them. His lips are soft, but the kiss is not. He still tastes like cinnamon, but mixed with wine this time. He tangles his hands in my curls and pulls. My head tilts back, and my mouth opens wider. He uses the opportunity to deepen our kiss. My mind is swirling. Oh my, this feels good. No, wait. This can’t happen. This is a mistake.
I come to my senses and push him away. “Stop doing that,” I say sternly between pants.
He appears shocked. I assume not many women push Luke Taylor away. He recovers quickly though. “I’m not ever going to be sorry for that kiss. I don’t understand why you’re resisting so hard.”
“Because this is not going to happen.” Even though it needs to be said, it pains me to say it.
He cocks his head. “That didn’t sound very convincing to me. Did it to you?”
“You are infuriating. It doesn’t matter if it sounds convincing. It’s reality.”
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