by Jen Luerssen
She sits next to me and holds her glass out. I pour her an equally generous glass and she sighs before she takes a sip. “This is my favorite.” She swirls her glass and admires the color of the wine.
“Why?” I ask in a slightly obnoxious tone.
She sighs and I hate myself a little. Seems like every time she starts a conversation with me I get combative. It’s almost like I can’t help myself. But I know better, I could totally help it if I wanted.
“Well, the wine itself is bold, well-rounded and lush. It’s also the best wine label I’ve ever seen.” She smooths her hand over the label I created. The wine is called Cabern-ape and the label is a graphic rendering of an ape hugging the bottle. It’s an expensive label because it’s die cut, not just the typical rectangular shape.
“Thanks,” I say, taking a sip. She’s right, it’s a really good wine. “I’m pretty happy with all of our labels but this is one of my favorites.”
She sits up and leans toward me. Instinctively, I lean a little away. “Did you design the label?”
“I design everything. That’s my talent, not just the business side.”
“Aren’t you a little mystery, Salty. I’m impressed.” She smiles to herself and then gets a weird look I can’t put my finger on. She’s ridiculously beautiful, almost painfully so. Her hair is a gorgeous chestnut with golden highlights, and her eyes change from day to day. Today they are a dark mossy green looking at me with wariness and frustration.
“I’m not mysterious at all. You can ask me anything you want, I’m an open book,” I say because even though it doesn’t seem like it, I want to spend time with her.
“Really?” she asks, giving me side eye. Seawitch sits up and rests her head on Kit’s leg. Kit smothers her with kisses and scratches behind her ears.
“Sure, but I get to ask a few questions too.”
She shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“Why wine?” I ask.
“When I graduated high school, my dads were super cool about me taking time to experience life and find my passions instead of jumping right into college. I spent a few years traveling and working in various fields. I tried working in fashion in New York, art in Paris, and wine in Mosel, Germany and then the Alsace region in France. I couldn’t learn enough about wine, I was obsessed. There wasn’t a thing that I wasn’t fascinated by, from the planting and harvesting to fermentation and bottling. I’m keen on design as well, which is why I’m impressed you’re the artist. It’s not something I’m good at but I love to admire good design.” She pauses to take a sip of her wine and I find myself in a trance. My full attention is on her and I am unable to look away.
“Sounds like a charmed life,” I say and I mean it to sound like I’m teasing her but instead it comes out a little bitter.
Kit jumps to her feet, startling Seawitch who runs away. Maybe I should join her. “I’m aware how lucky I am. Has my life been filled with amazing experiences, support, and love? Yes. Has it all been easy? No.” She pauses. “I thought you were sincere in your wanting to get to know me, I’m not sure I want you to now.”
She stomps off as I get up. “Kit, I’m sorry,” I call after her.
“Save it, Salty.” She waves me off and heads toward her cabin.
Salty Talk
Sebastian
Kit avoids me as much as she can this week and I can’t blame her. What irks me is she’s now gotten some of my other employees under her spell. She doesn’t seem like the type to talk shit about the boss so I’m assuming they just naturally love her, sense our tension, and have taken her side.
I know this because Gary, our tasting room manager, loves everything she did and when I suggest we change one thing back, he looks at me like I was about to firebomb his birthday cake. Colette, our bartender, calls me Salty now as well, so I figure her loyalty is now with Kit. It almost doesn’t bother me because I want Kit to fit in and do well here.
I’m sitting at the bar Saturday night after closing when Kit walks in looking gorgeous in sweat pants and a Thirsty Monkey tee shirt. I brace myself as she makes a beeline to me looking irritated.
“Hey, Kit, looking good,” I say with a smirk. She is looking good; she always looks good but of course, my dumb mouth has made it sounds like she does not.
Her middle finger goes up along with her rolling eyes. “Salty, the heat in my cabin is not working. You told me the other day you were on it. This looks a lot like not being on it.” She gestures to the glass of wine and plate of freshly made sweet potato chips in from of me.
“This is literally the first chance I’ve had to sit all day,” I pat the bar stool next to mine and she hops up. “Join me for a glass and then I’ll head over with you to check it out.”
She nods and Colette cheerily brings her a glass of our Moscato, which I know is her favorite. I know this because I heard her tell Gary the other day. I’ve been eavesdropping on her conversations just to find out about her since she avoids talking to me if she can help it.
Being close to her is a challenge. She smells like coconut and pineapple, like a sexy piña colada. Her hair is piled up on her head and I can see a rogue peacock feather peeking out from her shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever been so physically attracted to someone. The desire to reach out and touch her shoulder is overwhelming. Instead, I cradle my wine with both hands.
“Busy day?” she asks.
“Yes, not too bad, just one of those days where I went from one thing to another, no breaks. I don’t think I peed for like 12 hours.”
“That is unhealthy, Salty.” Her smile is luminous and what is unhealthy is my need to touch her.
“Probably. This is my first meal since breakfast too, I’d guess that’s unhealthier.”
“You are welcome to my leftover pizza back at my cabin where it’s freezing,” she says, batting her eyelashes with her hands together resting on her adorable chin.
“Let’s go, you should have mentioned the pizza first.” I chug the rest of my wine and stand up.
I follow her to a cart she must have ridden over and get in the passenger side. Our legs touch and my entire left side is tingling being so close to her. We ride in silence and my mind wanders to that night we had together. I’ll be honest, my mind had been wandering to that event way before she showed up. It’s securely the top spank bank memory I have.
“Hope it’s not some gross veggie pizza,” I say because my brain apparently hates me.
She gives me a death stare and I laugh. “It’s bacon and pineapple and it’s the best. You’re welcome.”
I pretend shiver. “Oh no, fruit on pizza? Sacrilege.”
“Whatever, we are from California, I’m pretty sure we have no fight in any pizza game since we put chicken and broccoli on it.”
I laugh again because she delights me. “Broccoli may be even worse than pineapple.”
“Might?”
We disembark from the golf cart and head into her cabin. The cabins are pretty small but a good size for one or two people. Being in a smallish space with Kit, alone, makes my heart beat faster and my dick feel things.
I walk to the kitchen to get the pizza but she throws herself in front of the fridge. “No way, Salty. Heat first, then you get the pizza reward.”
I sigh and go to the panel where the little furnace is housed. It’s a basic system and works pretty well. I check all of the buttons and make sure the pilot light is lit. Finally, I find the issue, a broken connection between the thermometer and whatever makes it engage the furnace to ‘on.’ Using my flashlight and pocket knife I solve the issue and then turn the thermometer up. Thankfully it kicks on and immediately starts blowing warm air into the cabin.
“Woot! My hero,” Kit shouts.
I turn to her and smile. She is holding another glass of wine and a plate of pizza and there are zero things wrong with this picture. “Let me wash my hands and I will dig in.”
She places the plate and glass on the bar and leans in. “I appreciate you fixing it. I’ve
been piling blankets on my bed.”
“Too many blankets can be bad for your circulation,” I say and I’m not sure where that random info came from.
Her eyebrows raise. “Okay, grandpa Salty. I mean, you sound like my dad, Sig. He’s German and is constantly obsessed with my constitution, circulation, and nutrition.”
“Those are important ‘-tions,’” I say like the dingus I am.
“They sure are,” she jokes, gesturing to the uneaten pizza on my plate. “Eat up.”
“Yes, mistress.”
“What is wrong with you?” she asks.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I say, knowing exactly what she means.
“I feel like the happy, carefree, sexy man I met in Vegas doesn’t exist. Just this cranky, awkward dude named Salty. What happened?”
I huff out a breath. “The answer isn’t simple.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “I’ve got time.”
I take a few bites of pizza because I really am hungry. After a sip of wine, I turn to her. She is leaning over the bar and her face is not far from mine. The thought of kissing her pierces through my brain and my body feels like it’s on fire.
“I’m not sure how to act around you. Occasionally, we slip into our banter and flirting from Vegas and it feels great.”
“But...” she says leaning even closer.
“I’m not sure what we are now, except co-workers. I mean, we had this epic night that I’m sure I’ve exaggerated in my mind but it meant something to me. I have kicked myself daily for not getting your real name and number.”
The green in her eyes darkens a fraction before she smiles at me. It’s a fantastic smile and now I lean in so I can study it. She has these deep creases at the edge of her mouth, like dimples but not. Her bottom lip is much fuller than her top and her eyes look even more magical when they smile with her mouth.
“Aww, Salty, that’s more like it,” she lifts her wine glass and clinks it with mine. “I like it when you’re honest. At least I can see a little of the guy I was with that night. As much as I wish we did exchange names and numbers, I like that it was its own perfect entity too. Obviously, now that we do know each other, the shine of that night has dulled considerably.”
I don’t think that’s what has happened with me. I feel like I’ve spent every minute since she’s been back in my life trying to resist her pull. Keeping everything professional is the best course for me, because the minute I get comfortable with her, I’ll open myself up and end up sleeping with her. I’m not all that sure I can keep that from happening again anyway. Her comment bothers me though.
“I’d say the opposite. Maybe we are purposefully dulling it but the shine is pretty strong. I feel that I’ve put that night on a pedestal almost. Like it was an unreal dream. Yet, here you are and it was real.” I rub my hand over my mouth. “I guess I’m trying to figure out what that means, while at the same time trying to be your boss and keep it professional.”
Her eyes crinkle with her smile. “I’m thrown off too,” she says and I raise one eyebrow. “Ha, I know it may seem like I’m not, but I am. It’s just tricky, because you have all the power here so I have to follow your lead. If you want some hostile banter, then I’ll float that your way. If you want to keep me at arm’s length to keep this all professional, then I’ll stay there.”
“Sounds fair,” I mumble, then go quiet.
We sit silently for a while, me finishing off the pizza and both of us taking large sips of wine.
She breaks the quiet first. “So, Mikey’s pregnant, huh?”
Salty Cellar
Kit
Sebastian’s friends are all coming today for the big end of season party. I’m slightly nervous but also excited to hear the band I’ve heard Gary and Colette talk about non-stop. I adore music and love anything with a female singer. I’ve heard a lot about the singer, Lia. She has like, goddess status here at the Thirsty Monkey. Colette dished to me about the rest of the band, especially about Frank and Mikey. I’m assuming she’s figured out her prego state by now but I haven’t seen her in a week. After hearing all about her and this Frank dude, I’m assuming he’s the daddy. From what Colette tells me, he is pretty hot, and so are the rest of the guys. So, yeah, I’m really looking forward to meeting the band.
I’m not sure how I’m feeling about Salty this morning. We had a good-ish talk last night. At least he was honest. I know I’m going to have to be honest with him too but it’s been fun to play with him a little. My comment about Mikey threw him way off and he grilled me about what I knew. Shortly after, he left and I used my vibrator while thinking about how he ate me out from behind in the shower the morning after. God, that was the single most erotic moment of my life and I think about it all the time.
I spend a few minutes doing my hair, (spraying it with product and scrunching it-my dads would die) slip on jeans and cowboy boots then grab my black Sig Becker original coat. Aside from my slutty Vegas dress, this is one of my favorite things he’s made me. It’s short, fitted and so warm. The best feature is the inside though. It’s lined with a bright peacock pattern. You could say I have an unhealthy obsession with peafowl. When I was little, the dads took me to the San Francisco Zoo and I was instantly enamored with the peacocks that roamed the zoo freely. They bought me books about peacocks, filled my room with peacock art, feathers and eventually bought two actual birds. A peacock and a peahen, just in case they wanted to breed them. Since it was the early 2000s and I was ten, I named them after my favorite show, American Idol.
Kelly and Simon are still kicking it at the Becker compound and are happy. They’ve never produced any peachicks because our vet advised against it unless we wanted a whole herd, but they are good friends. Peyton had read that it was better to have one male and a few females but the one attempt to add another peahen went sideways really quickly. Kelly was very territorial and I’ll leave it at that.
My obsession is still thriving, hence the back tattoo and this badass jacket. I add some bright blue glasses and head out to the main building. I wave at Gary and Colette, who are getting the inside and outside of the tavern area set up for the party. After I meet with Salty, I’ll join them.
I knock on his open office door. He looks up with a smile and my heart drops through the floor. He’s just so fucking sexy. That scruff, those friendly eyes. Bad Kit, stop eye-fucking your boss.
“Just checking in, when do your friends get here?” I ask.
“They should be here around one,” he says looking at his watch. Also, super hot on his manly forearm. Jeez, maybe I should stop jerking off to him every night. It’s not fair to objectify him this way. A girl can hardly help it though. “Can you help Colette set up the tables in the tavern, and then I’ll swing by to get you in a few and you can come with me to get wine from the cellar?”
My eyes light up and I may do a little party dance. What? I love the wine cellar. It’s literally a giant cellar of joy. It’s hard to explain why wine fills me with so much joy. Oops, no it’s not, it tastes awesome and makes you all warm and gooey inside. Giant. Cellar. Joy.
He laughs at me. “You may be the best employee ever. No one, not even Mikey, gets that pumped for a trip to a cold, dark, and damp cellar.”
“Filled with wine, Salty. You forgot that part. It’s full of racks and racks of manna from the wine goddess of joy.” I spread my arms open.
“I’m aware, which is why it’s my favorite place too.”
“Okay, see you in a little bit,” I say with a squeal and skip out of the office.
***
The day goes quickly and we get the setup done fairly fast. The decor consists of twinkle lights that were already hung in and out, and colorful lanterns we added today. Flowers get delivered and we are in the middle of putting them out when Sebastian finds me for our cellar trip.
“Woot!” I shout and Colette and Gary laugh at me. They were warned that I would have to leave them when it was cellar time.
“
Have fun, Kit,” Gary says, winking at me.
“Oh, Gar, it’s almost a guarantee,” I say jumping into the cart making the whole thing bounce up and down violently.
Sebastian puts his arm across my chest. “Slow down there, Sparky. The cellar isn’t going anywhere.”
My chest tingles a little and I take a breath to calm myself. “Okay, I’m ready.” I fold my hands in my lap and try to seem calm. The huge smile I’m sporting gives me away but who cares?
Sebastian laughs at me and then heads toward the larger building behind the main building that houses all of the wine-making equipment. At the end of the long building is the entrance to the cellar. When I say long, I mean it’s at least a football field long. We could easily walk through but we have one of the carts that has a large back for hauling boxes since we are getting wine for a large group.
The tasting room is fully stocked with cases and cases of wine, but this trip is for the special shit. When we were discussing the party, Sebastian let us know there will be some of the good stuff at the party. Meaning our best vintages, reserves and our sparkling wine that has been hand turned using the Champagne method. We can’t call it that because any bubbly made outside of the Champagne region is barred from calling it champagne. So, it’s sparkling wine, but it’s just as fucking good.
He parks the cart and we go through the door into the building. It’s loud in here with refrigeration and generators running but once we are in the cellar with the door closed, it’s quiet. I follow him down the stairs while taking big inhales.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a chuckle.
“I’m smelling the air, Salty. The beautiful musty, tangy odor that is a wine cellar.”
“Are you going to be okay in here?”
“Yes, asshole, I’m just excited. Don’t you remember what that feels like?” I ask and he turns and walks to me until he’s so close I feel a little light headed.