Salty Sebastian (Smirk Series Book 3)

by Jen Luerssen

  Sebastian is in the restroom so when our future employee glides up to the table it’s just me.

  “Hey, Devonté, I’m happy you were able to come back.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t leave. I was hoping you’d call me back so I cleared my schedule,” he says and I laugh.

  “Canceled all your afternoon meetings?”

  “Just one class and I got my shift covered at Applebee’s just in case,” he says and then looks panicked. “Oh man, that makes me sound like a flake, I’m not a flake. The class is an independent study and I rescheduled my meeting with my professor, and I love my job but I had someone on standby in case I was able to get an interview today.”

  Hold my hand up. “It’s cool, I get it. I’ve only been working for Thirsty Monkey for over a month. Getting any job in our business is tough. Finding one where you fit in and can grow, that’s like unicorn hunting.”

  He high fives my hand. “I don’t know why I did that. Let’s pretend I haven’t talked yet.”

  I laugh again and invite him to sit behind the table with me. “I like that you’re nervous. That means you care about this opportunity. Mr. Simeon can be a little serious but the winery is informal and only awesome people work there.”

  “You’re telling Devonté about how awesome I am already? Hope I don’t let you down.” Sebastian sits next to me and his arm brushes against the side of my boob. I know for a fact it’s no accident and that’s fine, he’ll be sorry.

  “Chill, sir, you’re scaring him already,” I say and lean past him to retrieve the folder with Devonte’s info in it. Making sure I press my tits against his folded arms. Oops. He clears his throat and adjusts his shirt so it’s covering his lap. Mr. Happy is at it again. Doesn’t take much which is lucky for me.

  We proceed to get more information about my favorite new intern and his life, goals, and willingness to work for very little money, but unlike other wineries, we offer free housing, which is like gold in this area. I take it easy on Sebastian so we can be professional (kind of) and we learn that Devonte is terrible at sports but loves science. Fortunately for him, his dad worked at a fancy restaurant as a sommelier and taught him about wine when he was a teenager. The science of it fascinated him so he became obsessed and worked as his dad’s assistant for free for a year so he could learn as much about wine as his dad could teach him without actually drinking any. He’s attended every crush since he was 18 and studied in Italy for a summer.

  “My mom has worked as an accountant for Google since the beginning so I had a lot of advantages that I wouldn’t have had if she worked for a less successful company,” he says.

  “We have that in common, my dad is Sig Becker,” I say ready to explain who he is. Most women have heard of him, but not all men care about fashion. He’s pretty well known though.

  Devonté’s eyes light up. “Holy crap, my mom and I love him. When he guest starred on High Note to personally dress all the finalists, we were instantly in love. I follow his Instagram and Twitter. Whoa, then you’re Hasenfürzchen?” he asks with perfect pronunciation. “I didn’t make the connection, but you’re usually cut out of the picture or wearing a mask.”

  “Ugh, yes I am. He and my dad, Peyton, love to take pictures of me but when I was a teenager, I asked them to block my face. Now that you know my true identity, I’ll have to kill you,” I say with a straight face and he looks miserable.

  Sebastian chuckles next to me. “Bunny fart?” he asks with his google translate open on his phone.

  “It’s a common term of endearment in Germany,” I say defensively. “D, I’m kidding, obviously. I’m fine with people knowing who I am. Especially people I work with.”

  He takes a breath and then looks at me, eyes popped. “Are you hiring me?” he asks.

  I look at Sebastian, just now realizing I didn’t get his take, but he just smiles and nods at me. “Would it matter if I disagreed?”

  “Nope!” I exclaim and shake Devonté’s hand. “Welcome to the team.”

  Salty Hazing

  Sebastian

  That trip was something. I’m not sure exactly what, but the majority was unexpected. I’m glad Kit and I agreed on our intern hire. I felt a little bad when Evan showed up and we went through the motions of interviewing him, knowing we’d already pretty much hired Devonté. He was a good sport, though, and I’m sure he’ll find something. Kit said he wasn’t hungry enough for it. Despite all of the advantages both she and Devonté have, they still want it badly enough to put in the work.

  My first thought was to be a little jealous of Devonté. He’s much closer to Kit’s age, they have a ton in common, and he’s a good-looking guy. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m hot too. I would never assume, but he seemed very interested in me.

  Kit confirms it on the ride home. “I’ve never seen a dude drool so much over another guy’s Adam’s apple before. He was like mesmerized by it.”

  “I think you are projecting your unprofessional objectification of me on him.” She laughs at me.

  “He wants to be professional alright, a professional Salty ass watcher,” she said laughing her ass off. “He’ll have to take a number though.” She points her thumb at herself. “This bitch gets first dibs.”

  “Wow, it’s like you guys are fighting over a piece of meat,” I say.

  “A juicy, sexy, huge piece of meat,” she says leaning over to palm my crotch.

  I keep my eyes on the road and try to think of my dad’s toe again. It doesn’t really work when she has her actual hands on me. “You’re going to kill us both, you know,” I say but don’t really care.

  She squeezes and then let’s go. “Just checking out the meat quality.”

  “What grade would you give it?”

  “It’s a grade A top cut, Salty.” Fortunately for our safety, but sadly for my dick, her hands stay in her lap for the rest of the drive.

  Her phone beeps while we are heading up the drive to the tavern. “Can you take me right to my cabin?”

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m going to head out for a little bit. I’ll see you in the morning.” She kisses my cheek swiftly and then hops out of the car. She gets her bag from the trunk, runs up the stairs and before I even get my car in reverse she is bounding back down to her truck. She gives me a little wave and drives away.

  I wonder what that was and I think about following her. That thought gets shaken away because I’m not a psycho. The tendril of worry winds its way through me though. It’s unfair to her because we have nothing defined between us, she owes me nothing. Still, I can’t help but feel left out of something important in her life.

  ***

  Because he still has a few weeks left in the semester, Devonté can only come up from Friday to Monday. This is our busiest time though since it’s slower in the winter months so it works well. Kit really dives into work at the winery and she’s a wonder to watch. She and Devonté are like long lost siblings. They are inseparable, already have their own secret code language, and bicker constantly. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were dating. His first weekend at the Monkey, Devonté told us about his boyfriend, Gil, who is studying animal husbandry. Kit gave me the ‘I told you so’ look and we enjoyed funny stories about farm animal reproduction.

  Sunday nights Kit leaves and returns on Tuesdays. She has never told me where she goes. To be fair, I haven’t asked her either. We haven’t had many moments together since Davis. There have been a few stolen kisses but not much else. I feel like she’s pulled back from me and I don’t know what to do.

  On the Tuesday evening before Thanksgiving, I find her in the tavern having a glass of wine with Gary. We had a rather large party in the tavern earlier. A local family had a reunion. They wanted to drink our wine and bring pizza with them, so it was an easy event.

  “Hey, Sebass, we sold 50 bottles tonight,” Gary says making jazz hands.

  “Oh, Gar, no,” Kit says. “Please don’t make jazz hands ever again.”


  “You sound like Fucking Frank,” he says and she punches him in the arm.

  “How did we sell so many bottles? They couldn’t have drunk that much in three hours. There were only 20 of them,” I ask.

  “Well, your little Kitty cat here got them to buy five cases on their way out. She convinced them that they should have a good stock for Thanksgiving and then any extra will be host gifts for all the holiday parties they attend. They were just drunk enough to agree,” he says pinching his thumb and forefinger together.

  “I didn’t realize you were in sales, Chaton?”

  She smiles sweetly. “I’m good at everything, Salty, catch up.”

  My mind goes directly to all the things I know she’s really fucking good at and now it’s boner city. I quickly sit and pour myself some wine.

  “How is Devonté doing lately?” I ask.

  “He’s awesome. We did well hiring him,” she says holding out her fist which I bump immediately. “The way he thinks of wine in a scientific way is so interesting to me. He doesn’t even like wine all that much. He can sure tell the difference between the good stuff and swill, though.”

  “Did you test him?” Gary asks.

  “Yep, I had three cups lined up, one with our reserve Zin, one with some ’92 Natale Zin and some store brand table wine,” she leans conspiratorially in and we do the same. “I played it up, switching the cups around behind my back like the guy from The Princess Bride. Initially, I thought I might totally trick him and pour the same wine in each cup but then I came up with an even better idea. Toothpaste.”

  “Do tell,” Gary eggs her on.

  “So, I prepared a snack for in between each so his palate would be clear. Before he was set to drink our wine, I gave him a cracker with cheese in the middle, but I also added a dab of toothpaste.”

  “He could obviously taste it right?” I ask.

  “It was enough to give him pause but not say anything. Like, he knew that last nibble was a little off but he didn’t want to be rude. So, he goes ahead and tastes the last glass and I can tell he’s squirrelly because he can’t tell if it’s shitty or not because the Natale’s is good enough that it may be the best of the three, and for sure he knows which is the shitty wine, so he’s stuck.”

  “You are a tiny bit evil,” Gary says, “but I love it.”

  “What did he do?” I ask.

  “He asked to be excused and went to the bathroom,” she says and laughs. “When he came back, he took another sip of our Zin and then rated them. Ours was top, then Natale’s and then the swill.”

  “Then what?” Gary asked.

  She shrugs. “Nothing, I congratulated him and then we went out to the fields to check vines.”

  “Do you think he like washed his mouth out or had a spare cracker or something?” Gary asks.

  “I don’t think so: I think he knew I tricked him and saw the bottles hidden behind the bar when he went to the bathroom. He may have also seen the toothpaste on the sink in the bathroom because I am horrible at hiding stuff.”

  “So, he passed your poorly executed trick test and said nothing?” I ask.

  “Affirmative, Salty,” she says saluting me. “I respect him for not going for the cheap accusation of me trying to fuck with him. Shows he trusts me.”

  “But you did fuck with him, so he would have been justified in calling you out,” I point out.

  “Oh, Salty, do you know nothing about initiation rites? Light employee hazing?”

  “No, I do not, because I don’t approve of any of that.”

  Gary coughs.

  “Do you disagree with me, Gary?” I ask.

  “A little. Remember when we hired Jason?”

  “Ooh, Jason from distribution?” Kit asks and I’m happy that she’s familiar with all of our employees.

  “Yes,” Gary says and rubs his hands together. “When Jason started, he knew like nothing about wine, having worked primarily with a Gin distillery. So, Mikey challenged him to a drinking contest.”

  I sit up straight and laugh, remembering this story.

  “Oh, you got Salty’s attention,” Kit says. “Were you a part of this or just Mikey?”

  “She was on her own but I was there and knew what was happening so you could say I was an accessory.”

  “Well, Mikey sets two glasses down and pours wine to the very top. Both she and Jason start drinking. They go through a few glasses and Mikey is stone cold sober and Jason is starting to slur a little and get wavy. After six glasses Mikey is still sitting upright and Jason is almost laying on the table. They’ve almost had about two bottles each.”

  Kit is riveted. “Two bottles in about how much time?” she asks.

  “Less than 30 minutes. They were chugging it like it was grape juice, which is exactly what it was.”

  “No! She was pouring herself non-alcoholic wine and he was getting the real stuff?”

  “Nope, she was pouring them BOTH non-alcoholic wine. He just had no idea so his brain was convinced that he was wasted.” Gary opens his arms wide. “When Mikey told him, he started to cry. We all felt awful but he was still kind of acting drunk. Everyone was all apologetic, especially Mikey, she said she didn’t mean to make him cry. He really started to turn on the works and that was when I knew he was fucking with us. Mikey got on her knees in front of him, he was babbling on about honor and disgracing his family, total drama queen stuff, and when she started to cry too, he lifted his head and stopped stone cold and smiled hugely. Mikey tackled him to the ground and then we all piled on them. It was hilarious, but also dumb because we were all acting like drunk assholes and no one was. Like it was contagious.”

  “Nice. I feel a little left out because I didn’t get the business when I was hired.” Kit fake pouts.

  “That’s because we were a little afraid of you, and also once Sebastian was back, he shot down our one idea,” Gary says and I give him an incredulous look.

  “It’s late, Gary, don’t you need to get home?” I ask looking at my watch.

  He winks at me while he gets up to leave. “Sure do, boss.”

  “Aw, Salty were you trying to protect me?” Kit turns to me leaning her hands on my thigh. “That’s so sweet.”

  Her eyes are a little glassy and I do believe she is tipsy. Tipsy Kit is handsy and fun so I swallow my glass down to get a little tipsy too.

  Salty Goodness

  Sebastian

  “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” I ask Kit as she pours us more wine.

  She smiles. “Hanging with my dads of course. We always spend every holiday together, no matter where we are. Fortunately, they have both traveled so much they have a million travel points, in addition to lots of money. Even when I was in South Africa, they flew there to spend Christmas.”

  “I didn’t know you spent time there,” I say finding her endlessly fascinating as usual.

  “Yep, just a few months but it was a great experience. Their technology and production are different from modern U.S. Wineries but remarkably close to French vineyards. The country was so beautiful and complex. There were things that were so heartbreakingly stunning about it and yet it overwhelmed me. My dad says I’m too sensitive to people who have experienced strife but I disagree. How can anyone be too sensitive to human suffering?”

  I drift my hand down her upper arm. She is an interesting mix of spoiled, confident, and kind. Her intelligence is effortless and intimidating. I haven’t met anyone her age, or shit, maybe my age, that is so accomplished and mature.

  “You amaze me,” I say quietly. “Your capacity for empathy and kindness is vast. You are a magnet to everyone here, you constantly solve problems I didn’t even know existed, and you knock me over every time you look at me.”

  “Wow, Salty, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me outside of my dads.” She scoots her chair closer to me. “Do you want to come with me to Thanksgiving?”

  My heart soars because I’m completely aware how much this invitation is extra
ordinary. “You want me to meet your family?” I ask. “I thought I was just your fuck buddy?” I also ask because I don’t know when to shut up.

  She pushes my shoulder. “Way to ruin my nice gesture. Forget it, I take it back. You are uninvited, jerk face,” she says jumping out of her seat.

  I grab her hand. “Wait, please don’t go.”

  “I need a compelling reason to stay, Sebastian. I’ve had a little too much to drink and being around you makes me feel like I’ve had even more.”

  I gently pull her until she’s sitting in my lap. “I know I don’t say the right things sometimes. Especially after I’ve said some right things, but I admire you, I want to know you better, but I feel the distance you keep between us. It’s okay that you keep me at arm’s length but know I want to get closer. If I say the wrong thing, it’s most likely a defense mechanism to keep myself safe.”

  Her head rests on my shoulder and her hand is on my heart. “That Wendy lady really messed you up, huh?”

  “She did, but my mystery Snow White may have done a number on me as well,” I breathe out.

  Kit raises her head to look at me. “I had that much of an impression?”

  “You did. I’m starting to realize that maybe I didn’t have a similar effect.”

  “Not true,” she whispers, circling a finger around my chest. “Please come to Thanksgiving, Salty.”

  “I would if I could. My mother would murder me if I missed her favorite holiday.”

  “I thought she was French?” Kit asks and it’s a valid question.

  “She is but loves all American holidays. You should see her on the 4th of July. Sabine loves to cook and knows she can do a better Thanksgiving meal than anyone else. There will be over 20 people there and everyone will leave satisfied. Except my dad, he would be happier if it was just the three of us.”

  “You’re an only child?” she asks. “For some reason, I thought you would have siblings.”