“Don’t tell Jerry.”
“I don’t tell Jerry shit.”
“Okay, it’s this guy who works at the winery. He’s gorgeous, but totally not what I’m used to. He’s tall and thin but really muscly. His hair is kind of grown out and sometimes he slicks it back. He has a scruffy light beard and tattoos. Oh my god, his tattoos!”
“Whoa, Kate. Bad boy, bad boy, whatcha gonna do?”
“That’s the thing. He’s not. He’s really sweet and sensitive, but confident and sexy as hell—and smart, too. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing here picking grapes.”
“Get his history,” she said urgently.
“I did. He told me all about his childhood and everything. He had a totally normal upbringing, besides the fact that he was adopted.”
“I meant get his sexual history before you drop your panties for him.”
I laughed. “What is it with you and Jerry? You guys think I’m some kind of slut.”
“Do you know what a dental dam is?”
“I’m changing the subject.”
“Get his history, that’s all I’m trying to tell you. If you’re going to have your little winery fantasy, then get the details.”
“Now you really sound like a journalist. I’ll let you go.”
She got quiet for a few moments. “Kate, I’m happy for you. Seriously. Enjoy yourself for once. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Lying on the bed, I wondered where my little fantasy could take me. I had a life in Chicago, plants in my apartment that needed watering, and a career. There was Just Bob on the train waiting to give me some life-changing advice, and then there were Beth and Jerry. I thought about all of it, but when I added it up together, sadly it didn’t amount to much. I loved Beth and Jerry, but they were colleagues. I could write anywhere; I could live anywhere. I wondered if Jamie liked me enough to see where things would take us or if he was looking at me as a fling, something temporary.
I thought about what it would be like to upend my life and move to California, but the idea of losing my rent-controlled apartment scared me. Then I thought about the holiday train. Every year the transit people decorate one train. They completely deck it out—even Santa Claus rides on it. My entire life, all I had ever wanted to do was ride the holiday train, but I’d never been able to catch it. When people would talk to me about how rad it was to ride the holiday train, I wanted to kick them in the face.
I was trying to convince myself, while lying on that bed, that I had enough reason to stay in Chicago because, hey, I hadn’t ridden the holiday train, but I fell asleep thinking about Jamie and what his rough hands would feel like on my bare skin.
Page 8
Exposition
Three knocks startled me out of bed. I glanced at the clock—9:01 a.m. I had never slept in that late. I bolted to my feet and headed for the entryway, wearing only a tight black crewneck T-shirt and black lace panties. I hid my lower half behind the cracked door and peeked out to find a smiling female member of the waitstaff holding a metal carafe.
“Hello, Ms. Corbin. I have coffee for you. And this.” She handed me a folded-up piece of paper that had the word Itinerary written across it in messy handwriting. I opened the door wide and let her pass into the room. She set the coffee on the corner table and I scrambled into the bathroom, threw on a white terry robe, and came out, not bothering to tie it.
“Hi, um . . . ?”
“Lydia.”
“Hi, Lydia. I’m having some issues with the Wi-Fi. I think I need a new code?”
“Okay, I’ll check on that for you.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s frittata and fresh fruit and muffins and scones in the dining room when you’re ready to come down. I’ll be right back with that code.” She passed me and headed out the door.
I stood near the entry and started to unfold the itinerary when the three knocks came again. Wow, she’s fast. I opened the door wide to find Jamie on the other side, looking charming. I glanced down at myself and realized my robe was still hanging open.
“Good morning,” he murmured distractedly. I didn’t move. His eyes skimmed down my body and back up again. He put his hand over his heart and then turned around to walk away but quickly turned back and stood his ground in the doorway. He was trying to collect himself. He looked up at the ceiling and then back at me. When his eyes met mine, he smiled.
“See something you like?” I asked, using his line on him.
He cleared his throat. “You have no idea.”
“I haven’t read my itinerary yet so I don’t know why you’re here.” I batted my eyelashes and smiled innocently.
“It’s not about that. Although, right now, I’m wishing I’d made breakfast plans with you.”
“I have work to do, young man.”
He looked down at his feet and chuckled. “I just wanted to let you know that the rental company replaced your car.” He pulled the black square key from his pocket. “It’s in the parking lot if you want to go exploring today. Just be careful.”
“Thank you. At first I thought you were Lydia at the door. I asked her to find out about the Wi-Fi for me. Maybe you can help?” He shook his head. “You don’t know how the Wi-Fi works here?”
“No, I don’t use it, but I can find out for you and send someone up if you want?” He rocked back onto the heels of his work boots a couple of times. It seemed like an impatient gesture.
“That’s okay. I think Lydia will take care of it.”
“Great,” he said. “So I’ll see you later?” I nodded. He turned around and then came right back again, pushing the door open. With a sweet look splashed across his ruggedly handsome face, he stage-whispered, “I can’t wait,” and then he was gone.
Lydia never came back with the code. I went downstairs and raided the basket of muffins and scones before scurrying back to my room to start work on the article. No Wi-Fi was going to pose a problem, but I didn’t want to hassle anyone at the inn. Instead, I decided to hassle Jerry. I dialed his number with lightning speed.
“Jerry Evans.”
“Jer, I can’t get Wi-Fi here.”
“You’re kidding? Are you going to write that in the article?”
“I’m going to do this the old-fashioned way.”
“What’s that, carve it into a stone tablet?”
“Listen, I’m just going to jot down some notes on paper here and let this whole story marinate a little bit. I’ll have one of the PAs at the office do some research for me and then, when I’m back in Chicago, I’ll knock it out. Whaddaya think?”
“Do I hear a little spark in your voice?”
“If I had a dollar for every time you answered a question with a question . . .”
“You sound better already, Kate. Take your time. I’m not putting a deadline on you, but that doesn’t mean you can take for fucking ever, either. All right?”
I laughed. “I know. You’re the best, Jer.”
By noon I had several sheets of notes scribbled out and strewn across the bed. I remembered that the itinerary was still lying half open on the long entry table. I skipped over and unfolded it to find a couple of simple lines in Jamie’s messy handwriting:
4:OO p.m. Going into the city. That’s it. That’s all.
Just relax and enjoy your day.
Kisses,
Jamie
My heart skipped a beat when I imagined him saying the word “kisses.” I went back to my notes but couldn’t focus. All I could think about was dinner with Jamie. I decided I’d put some effort into it and try to find a dress for our date. After throwing on a pair of jeans and my ballet flats, I headed over to Susan’s office, hoping to get her input, even though part of me feared she wouldn’t approve of our date.