by Hayes, Lane
Wes didn’t say a word for what felt like five minutes. No doubt he was adjusting the lenses on his inner microscope, checking to see what had seeped into the cracks of my fragile psyche. I hoped he’d let me know if he found anything new.
“You like him,” he said matter-of-factly.
I straightened my spine and set my forearms on the chair like it was a throne then arched my brow imperiously. “Pardon moi?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as his eyes sparked with humor. “You think he’s cute. Admit it.”
“Are you twelve? What kind of question is that? Puppies are cute. Kittens are cute. The occasional baby is cute. Grown men are not cute.”
“Wait a sec. I’m pretty sure you were the one going on and on about how cute Joe Jonas was the other day. He’s a grown man.”
“That wasn’t me,” I insisted haughtily.
“It certainly was and…I have witnesses. Danny, Ryan, Lauren, Nick—”
“Oh, my God. Will you stop?” I deadpanned.
Wes chuckled merrily. “Fine. I misspoke. Levi isn’t cute.”
“Exactly.”
“He’s hot.”
I threw my head back in exasperation and groaned. “First Ryan and now you.”
“Oh, come on, Geord. Levi is a good-looking dude. There’s no harm in stating the obvious. I don’t know if he’s gay but—”
“Bi.”
Wes squinted at me like Mr. Magoo. “How do you know?”
“I don’t know for sure. But my gay-dar slash bi-dar is in working order, and I have a feeling that might be the case. That’s all.” I crossed my arms and gave a sassy head bob that should have effectively ended the conversation.
No such luck.
“You know, if you’re interested in him, you—”
“No!”
I shot to my feet and stormed to the other side of the room. His chair was too close to mine to make a clean escape. I had to shimmy sideways to get away from him before moving to the window. I gazed at the lush rolling hills with the precisely planted vines and winced at the familiar ache in my gut. I tried to think of something witty and clever to say to keep Wes in his seat until I could rebuild my defenses.
Nothing came. I was empty. Inside and out.
“Mike wanted you to be happy, Geordie. That’s all he ever wanted and—”
“Stop. Please.”
My voice hitched as the first sob escaped against my will. Tears streamed down my face in earnest. I hung my head and gave in to a fresh wave of sorrow. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it would ease the trembling in my hands before it took over my entire body. It didn’t work. I couldn’t stop shaking. When Wes rushed to my side and pulled me into his arms, I buried my face in his shoulder and let go. He cradled my head sweetly and held me close. I think he spoke, but I couldn’t be sure. He didn’t have to say anything. It was enough to know I wasn’t alone.
I let out a ragged sigh and drew my tattered defenses around me like a worn blanket before finally stepping out of Wes’s arms. I gave him a pathetic lopsided smile and opened my mouth to assure him I was all right, but he beat me to it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I’d be a crappy best friend if I didn’t remind you to keep going. Mike would kick my ass if I didn’t call you out and tell you over and over how fucking amazing you are and how much you have left to give. You know he would,” he whispered in a husky tone.
This time my sob was more of a half laugh. I nodded in agreement and was relieved that my second attempt at a smile felt sincere. “Yes, you’re right. However, that doesn’t mean I’m interested in the restaurant boy.”
“Understood. But I have a favor to ask of you.”
“And here we go,” I replied without heat.
Wes ruffled my hair and chuckled when I swatted him away. “Be nice, Geordie. Levi seems like a decent guy. Like I said, in a way, he’s like us. You and me and Mike moved here fourteen years ago, intent on making a new start in a new place, doing a job none of us knew shit about. It’s good karma to give back where we can. I’m not asking you to make hors d’oeuvres for him personally. If one of our staff can help, it would be a nice gesture, and the collaborative angle could be good for future business. That’s all.”
I regarded him for a long moment then inclined my head. “Okay.”
“So you’ll call him?”
I blew out a rush of air that turned into a raspberry. “Ugh! Yes, I’ll call him. The things I do for you…I really am amazing.”
Wes burst into laughter. “You are. And I love you. Even though you did ruin my lunchtime nookie.”
I checked my watch before moving to the door. “Go find your man. I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks. Hey, Geordie?” He waited for me to turn around before he continued. “I’ve got yours too. Remember, we’re still a team.”
I swallowed hard and smiled. The tight upturn of lips felt strange and out of place, but it was the best I could do, and I knew Wes wouldn’t hold it against me. I dabbed at the corners of my eyes as I pivoted on my heels. I stopped short at the top of the stairs and leaned heavily against the wall for a moment.
I sorted through my internal music selection, but nothing seemed to fit my mood. Maybe that was because I didn’t know how I felt. Had I really become a slightly older yet not-quite-geriatric gay who couldn’t read himself? Would the horror never cease? Fuck. If I’d learned one thing over the years, it was that you’d better know yourself and learn to love what you couldn’t change. It was a matter of basic survival when you were a Froot Loop in a bowl of Cheerios.
Yes, I was sad. Yes, my heart ached. Yes, it hurt to breathe, and sometimes I could barely keep track of the days of the week, but I was still here. And I might be here for another fortysomething years. I couldn’t go on like this. I had to get out of my head. Perhaps Wes had the right idea. I could treat the assignment like an acting job and play the cordial ambassador to wine country. I was good at that role. Helping our new neighbor might be just the escape I needed. If only for a little while.
I pulled Levi’s business card from my pocket after closing later that evening and studied the simple design on the front. Purple circles composed in a triangular bunch with a green stem. That was it. I couldn’t decide if it was laughably unsophisticated or a masterful execution of “less is more.” The boxy font, however, didn’t go at all.
“Danny just finished up in the warehouse. He’s coming by to pick me up in a minute. Want a ride home?” Ryan asked, shrugging his coat over his shoulders.
“No, thanks. I’ll walk. I have a phone call to make, and it’s a nice enough night for a moonlight stroll,” I replied absently. I skirted the bar and perched on a stool.
He shot a dubious sideways glance at me. “It’s cloudy and cold, and it looks like rain. Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Go on. Don’t keep your man waiting. I’ve got things to do, and I can’t worry about you worrying about me.” I pointed at the door meaningfully. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ry.”
“Okay, but If you need any—”
“Ryan.”
“I’m going, I’m going. Love ya, Geord!”
I waved good-bye and waited for the door to close behind him before scanning the shadows in the darkened lounge area across the room. The silence was refreshing after a long day of constant activity. I didn’t always enjoy the quiet at home, but I relished it here where the solitude felt like something earned rather than a punishment. I glanced down at the card again before my thoughts turned bleak and quickly input the number scrawled on the back.
“Hello.” Damn, he had a nice voice. Deep and masculine. Simple two-syllable words shouldn’t sound sexy, right?
“Good evening, Mr. Yeager. This is Geordie de la Rosa from Conrad Winery. We met earlier today. You mentioned a canapé and kitchen quandary, and I’m calling to offer my assistance,” I said in a professional tone.
Silence.
“Uh…okay. Cool.”
Never mind. “Okay, cool” wasn’t sexy at all.
“Very well. How shall we go about staging your required rescue?”
Levi chuckled softly. “You’re going to rescue me?”
“I’ll do my best, darling, but I’m going to need information. The ‘what, when, where’ variety. Tell me about your canapés.”
“Gee, that sounds kind of personal. We just met, Geordie.”
I barked a quick laugh as I turned to lean on the bar. “Aren’t you amusing? Let’s make this easy. I can give you two hours of my time Saturday afternoon beginning at three o’clock sharp. I’ll text you Wes and Nick’s address. We can meet there. Are you planning on coming with an assistant?”
“No. Just me. I—you’re going to help me yourself?” he asked, sounding confused.
“Yes. Call it a neighborly gesture. The more I know about your menu, the more informed I’ll sound when I tell the town how fabulous your new restaurant will be. So, tell me everything.”
“Uh.”
“About your menu.” I pulled my cell from my ear and frowned at the screen before trying again in a slow deliberate tone. “What will you serve?”
“A little bit of everything—”
“Oh, boy.”
He gave a half laugh then added, “With a Mexican-Spanish flair.”
“You do realize that Mexican and Spanish cuisine are not the same, I hope.”
“Of course I do. Look, I have a concept, but it’s too hard to explain over the phone. I’ll bring the cookbooks on Saturday and show you.”
“Cookbooks?”
“Yeah. You speak Spanish, right?”
“Sí.”
“Cool. I’ll bring the ingredients, cookbooks, and myself and see you at three. Hasta luego, Geordie.” His exaggerated American accent made me smile, but I couldn’t tell if it was indicative of a silly sense of humor or if his dumb jock side was showing.
“Ai yai yai,” I sighed. “Good night, Mr. Yeager.”
“Buenos nachos.”
“Noches, not nachos,” I corrected automatically.
Levi snickered. “Just testing. ’Night, Geordie.”
I chuckled as I disconnected the call. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Chapter 2
We planned to close an hour early on Saturday to prepare for the wine and food pairing. Ideally, well before the small bridal shower ended and the fifty-plus guests mingling in the lounge area departed. I wished they’d taken me up on my offer to use another space for their party. Conrad Winery had ample grounds with plenty of picturesque nooks and crannies. We hosted parties in the warehouse and erected large tents in the courtyard and on the hillside overlooking the vineyard regularly. Depending on the time of year, the vistas were stunning.
Winter was the only season we’d consider closing the main room. Iffy weather and dormant vines meant slower traffic. If a large party offered big bucks to throw a bash in our admittedly stunning tasting room, it was hard to refuse. But agreeing to host a shower and staying open to the public just before the wine and food pairing wasn’t my brightest move.
Classic jazz piped through the speaker system, setting a sophisticated yet casual mood for the partygoers. I glanced at my watch before surveying the well-dressed crowd milling around the fireplace and the elaborate spread the caterers had placed adjacent to the giant picture window. Everyone seemed happy and relaxed. They had food, wine, and pleasant conversation to keep them entertained. The walk-in guests seated in the bar area looked content too. This was the perfect time to escape. My staff could handle the rest.
I nudged Ryan’s elbow as he mopped some spilled wine from the bar. “I’m leaving now. Levi should be arriving at Chez Conrad at any moment. You’re in charge, Ry. Make sure no one absconds with my wineglasses. And keep your eye on the boisterous gentlemen at that high table in the corner. They’ve had a bit much, and there’s still another hour or so to go. We need the shower wrapped up by four-thirty at the latest, so we have time to clean and set up for the food pairing.”
“Got it. Who are you taking with you?” he asked, reaching for a bottle of Pinot.
“No one. I need you all here. I am more than capable of constructing a bite-sized culinary masterpiece in two hours or less. In the very unlikely event the task seems larger than I can handle, I’ll call for help.” I untied my apron and stepped aside.
“Sounds good. I still don’t understand why you didn’t assign someone else. You love when it’s busy, and we’re swamped today.” Ryan pushed a wayward curl behind his ear and then gestured toward our guests before picking up a wine opener.
“True, but it’s nothing you can’t handle,” I assured him. “And…I need a new project.”
“Levi is your project?” Ryan uncorked the bottle and turned to me with a frown. “Are you interested in him?”
“Interested in who?” Danny intercepted, pressing a discreet kiss on Ryan’s cheek then grabbing the wine from his boyfriend’s hand.
“Levi,” Ryan replied, waggling his brows lasciviously.
When Danny let out a low wolf whistle, I smacked his arm and scoffed. “Cool it, you two. I’m not interested in him personally. I’m being a nice neighbor…at Wes’s request. I can’t decide if I think it’s sweet that he asked for assistance or worrisome that he’s already lost his chef.”
“Losing the chef isn’t that big of a deal. He has plenty of time to hire another one,” Ryan insisted as he pulled a bottle of Pinot from the glass shelf.
“Au contraire,” I corrected. “Most high-end culinary establishments revolve around a celebrity chef. The concept of basing a business on old family recipes is charming, but it’s a tad naïve. I’m not roundly rejecting the possibility that our new neighbor knows what he’s doing. But if he’ll be pouring Conrad wines there, I’d like to know if he plans on pairing our Pinot with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“Don’t worry, Geord. I’ve tried the PBJ and Pinot combo, and it’s freaking amazing,” Danny said, raising the two bottles in a mini-salute before addressing his boyfriend. “Babe, I need three more Reserves. I’ll drop these off and come back for them.”
Ryan nodded then turned to me with a half smile. “What are you waiting for? Those PB and Js aren’t going to make themselves.”
“Very funny.”
I made sure he took in the full effect of my dramatic eye roll before I headed for the stone archway to the exit. I thought about stopping by my house to change my shoes before making my way to Wes and Nick’s, but I didn’t have much time. I stopped in the middle of the gravel path and looked down at my blue velvet embroidered loafers. They were pretty, but they hurt like a sonofabitch. I stopped twice along the way to dislodge errant pebbles from my shoes and give my feet a rest.
The second I reached the courtyard, I made a mad dash for the bench under the olive tree facing the front door and yanked my left shoe off. I turned it upside down and shook it wildly. I did the same with my right shoe and smiled when I heard Mike’s voice gently admonishing me.
“Geordie bird, when are you going to learn?”
I basked in the easy humor I imagined, letting it wrap me in a gossamer veil, magically separating me from my so-called reality. “I can’t help it. They’re adorable. Royal blue is stunning in velvet, don’t you think? And they make my feet look smaller. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to find these in size thirteen.”
“Size thirteen, eh?” someone repeated in an amused tone.
I yelped in surprise. Adrenaline shot through my system, sending my pulse into overdrive. I acted on instinct and did the first thing that came to mind. I chucked my shoe at the intruder and then hopped off the bench on one foot with my fists raised, ready for combat.
“Ouch! What the hell?” Levi glowered, rubbing his forehead. He bent to pick up my shoe from the front step then shot a dirty look at me before crossing the path to join me at the bench.
“ ‘What the hell?’ is right! You scared the bejesus out of me. What
are you doing sneaking around here?” I hopped forward a couple of feet but stopped when I teetered precariously. The last thing I needed was to land on my ass. Especially in front of this guy.
“I opened the door. That’s hardly sneaking.”
I held my palm open and lifted my chin regally. “My shoe, please.”
The gravel crunched noisily under Levi’s sneakers as he made his way toward me. He held out my shoe but didn’t release it. “Not so fast. Who were you talking to?”
“Myself,” I replied, wiggling my fingers in a not-so-subtle request for him to hand it over already.
Levi narrowed his eyes. “It sounded like you were telling an imaginary friend about your big feet and fancy slippers.”
I snickered at his tone. Teasing banter was my specialty. Lighthearted edginess without malice gave an impression one had entered the friend zone. Or more accurately, the “something more than acquaintance but less than the real thing” zone. In my experience, most peripheral working relationships thrived there. Caterers, temporary interns, delivery people and yes…the hunky man dressed in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of beat-up, checkered Vans, giving me a head-to-toe once-over.
I ignored everything I disliked about his statement and homed in on the one thing I could possibly turn into a joke. “Well, you know what they say about larger than average feet, darling.”
“You mean that’s not just a rumor?” Levi asked in a faux-serious voice.
I widened my eyes slightly then shook my head slowly for dramatic effect. “In my case…no.”
“Hop back to that bench,” he commanded, gesturing for me to get moving.
I huffed impatiently but obeyed, tripping before I made a quick dive toward the bench and flopped gracelessly on my ass. I grumbled in Spanish and gave him a sideways glance when he sat beside me, chuckling at my misadventures.
“May I please have my shoe now? I’m cold.”
“These shoes are your problem, you know,” he said conversationally. “They’re too flimsy. No arch support, no tread to speak of and—”