When Eileen had finished with her rhapsody on the health benefits of Kamboosha, a drink she thought should be added to the wine list, Brooke set the notebook down on the counter top. “Well. That’s truly enlightening. Thanks for sharing. I have so much to think about.”
Faking got a bit easier. Kind of like a first date with a man when Brooke would pick at her dinner, and talk about how there was really nothing like a home cooked meal.
“I’ll start taste testing in my own kitchen and then when they’re perfected, I’d be happy to bring them over for you to taste.”
“Great. How long will that take you?” Brooke found the plastic wrap and began to help cover all the samples Eileen had brought.
“I don’t have much else to do these days, so it shouldn’t take long at all.”
“Take your time. So… now that we’re done here, Billy mentioned something about Internet dating?” Brooke coughed.
“Oh Lord, he told you that? I’m not going to anymore. It’s hard to do with all the new words and abbreviations. I don’t have time to learn all that. If I were going to learn another language, it would be Italian. Oh, how I’d love to go to Italy someday. You see, my ex-husband was German and he hated Italians. Did I tell you that? It’s my side of the family that’s Scottish, and we’ve always loved the Italians …”
Brooke let Eileen ramble, while the idea cooked and formed. She’d fix Eileen up on a date. That’s what Brooke would do to help. Help and distract, which was what Billy wanted anyway. He just didn’t understand that the kind of distraction Eileen needed wouldn’t come from tofu or planning meals. It had to come from a man. Of course, not just any man.
No, she was with Billy on that one. She’d check the guy out first. After she found him, that is. Make sure he wasn’t an ax murderer. And also that he didn’t need Viagra, although what was the harm if he did? That pill had been invented for a reason, hadn’t it?
Brooke steered the conversation back from Scotland and bagpipes and Eileen’s sonofabitch ex-husband who wouldn’t even pay for Billy’s little league. “I’m sure I could fix you up with someone. You don’t really need to go through the Internet to date. You’re a beautiful woman.”
Eileen Turlock blushed. “Thank you. But it’s so hard to find men my age.”
“Well, why does he have to be your age?” Brooke winked.
“You think I should go out with someone older?” Eileen seemed to consider it. “There are even less of them.”
“How about someone younger?”
Now Eileen clasped a hand over her mouth, then slowly brought it down. “Younger? How young?”
“Have you ever heard the term cougar?”
9
Once Brooke had explained that she didn’t mean for Eileen to go out with anyone her sons’ age, but someone in the forty-something club, she had actually considered the idea. Brooke promised she’d get back to Eileen, probably even before she was done with the taste testing. They parted, and Eileen had a little spring in her step that Brooke didn’t think she’d imagined.
Now Brooke not only needed to start dating, but she would need to find a suitable companion for Eileen. Someone that Billy and his brothers wouldn’t reject. It might take a while.
Night had fallen at the vineyard, one of her favorite times of the day. The evenings were getting colder now. Even if the days were warm and sunlit, nightfall had a way of reminding every northern Californian of the proper season. But even from inside, the wide paned window offered a breath taking view of the evening sky, hundreds of stars twinkling in the inky black sky.
She never knew, and tried hard not to think about what Billy did every night in the manor house. Sometimes he did get in late, occasionally with Scott or Wallace in tow, but usually alone. She realized this much because from time to time she spied on him. Hard not to do since their houses practically faced each other. Tonight, she saw the light on and realized her sexy neighbor slash friend slash boss was home.
What’s more, he wasn’t alone tonight. There seemed to be several people over, all of them as near as she could tell, men. She heard an occasional shout, and quickly determined they must be watching a sports game.
Brooke took a shower, dressed in her sweats, put her damp hair in a ponytail and popped her dinner in the microwave. Tonight she’d be paring her Lean Cuisine with a chilled bottle of Guglielmo Chardonnay. No matter how horrible the meal, it could be saved with a good vintage.
She’d just pried the cork off and poured it into a glass to smell its properties when someone knocked at her door. That wasn’t Billy’s knock. By now, she could tell. His was always rather forceful and strong. This was more like a tap at her door. A rap-a-tat-tat.
Brooke glanced out the wink window to see Ivey, holding a box from Mama’s. “Were you going to tell me that you had a concussion?”
Brooke waved her friend in, and stared longingly at the box. “It was nothing. An entire week ago, and I’m fine. Are those Knock You Naked Brownies from Em?”
Ivey’s favorite dish, and Brooke had become a convert the first time she tasted the yummy chocolate caramel concoction. Brooke brought out some paper plates. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d eaten dessert first.
“It’s been a while, but I’ve done concussion duty with you before. Why didn’t you call me?” Ivey asked as she set the box down on the small kitchen counter.
“I didn’t need to,” Brooke said, reaching for a piece of chocolate heaven. “Billy took me home and he stayed with me all night.”
Ivey’s blue eyes widened. “Billy stayed with you all night?”
“Take it easy. It’s not what you think. Nothing happened.” Like she would make that mistake again, so soon after. Usually it took her at least a few months to forget about a mistake so that she might actually repeat it again.
“That’s too bad.” Ivey frowned. “Although, this gives new meaning to the phrase ‘I have a headache’. You really did. Didn’t you? Have a headache?”
“I didn’t have to refuse him. He was a perfect gentleman.” Other than the suggestions he’d made about the shower the next morning. But he hadn’t acted on any of it because he’d probably had second thoughts. So had she. They couldn’t start fooling around and stay professional. She’d already been to that movie. Spoiler alert: don’t sleep with your boss.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ivey took a brownie out of the box.
“Even if I were ready for a relationship, which I’m not, I couldn’t have one with Billy. We work together. Do I need to remind you of my last disaster?”
“Well, that was George. But lots of couples make it work. Jeff and I work together at the hospital.”
“But he’s not your boss. Stop comparing us. You and Jeff were high school sweethearts, written in the stars and all that crap.”
“Don’t get all romantic and gushy on me now.” Ivey rolled her eyes.
Brooke thought about Billy during high school. Lean, athletic Billy dated a lot. Fallon had been his last girlfriend before he’d graduated and headed off to the minor leagues. Fallon the head cheerleader, because she’d been part of that world. Not Brooke.
“He’s not my type. Jocks were never my type. Not in high school, and not now.”
“Maybe it’s time you reconsidered your type. This isn’t high school anymore. You’re both older now, and wiser.”
“Exactly.” Brooke leveled a significant look in Ivey’s direction. “We have a good grasp of consequences.”
“All right, so you’re not going to have a love affair with your sexy, handsome, wealthy, gentleman boss.”
“I am going to start dating again.”
Ivey’s eyes brightened, but before she could say another word Brooke held up a hand to stop her. “And I don’t need you to fix me up.”
“Suit yourself. I was going to suggest Noah, a male nurse I’ve worked with before. He’s thirty-something, smart and cute.”
“A male nurse?” Brooke didn’t like the sound of that. Crap, lis
ten to her judgmental self. What the hell had happened to her?
Ivey raised an eyebrow. “Men in the health profession have a good grasp of anatomy. Including a woman’s anatomy. Hear me?”
“Hmmmm,” Brooke said. “He does sound … intriguing.”
“Hey, have you heard anything from Camp Serrano, or George? Anything at all? Does he know you’re working for Billy?”
Brooke shrugged. If he did, and she could hope so, no doubt he’d be worried. Worried she’d make Mirassu his worst nightmare. His biggest competition. She found that she warmed at the idea.
“When’s the big day for the grand opening?” Ivey asked.
“I still have to talk to Billy about that, but the way things are going I feel like we could be on track to have a celebration in December. The fifth is my target date, because maybe we could coincide with the town parade.” It wasn’t a typical grand opening date, and that’s what she liked about it most. She wanted to open with a bang, do something new and unexpected.
Surprise everyone. This time in a good way.
Brooke couldn’t recall ever being this nervous. In the next twenty minutes, she and Billy had one of several meetings set up with a couple of the more respectable restaurants in town. But Billy was late. She’d told him to let her know when he arrived and they’d leave together.
He’d told her he’d be here after his meeting with his old high school baseball coach, a man he’d been spending way too much time with. Just as she’d suspected, Billy’s heart was still on the baseball diamond. Once a jock, always a jock. But now he was a vintner, or at least said he was. Pop was counting on him, and so was she. He needed to be the face of the new Mirassu line.
Brooke picked up her phone and texted Billy a pithy clipped message: You’re late.
Within seconds she had her reply: Two seconds.
Brooke took one last glance in the mirror. Not much time to primp now.
Why did it feel like a date, when it was no such thing? That would come later tonight, when she’d agreed to give Ted another chance. It hadn’t been his fault that Billy had swooped in with an all cash deal, and now she saw it more clearly with the benefit of time. So tonight she’d be having dinner with Ted at Chateau La Salle.
If any nasty rumors had spread regarding a mini break-down she’d had at Serrano’s, she’d put those to rest. The truth was that she had no idea what kind of reception waited for her. In a town like Starlight Hill, the gossip flowed as freely as the wine, and she was certain she’d been part of some of the mill since her rather unfortunate goodbye speech.
Billy knocked, and she opened the door to see his long hair falling around his neck line, dressed in slacks and a black blazer. Filling the doorway with his large frame and his equally big grin.
“Where were you?” Brooke grabbed her purse and shut the door behind her.
“I told you. I was with Coach and we—”
She interrupted him. “I thought you were a vintner now.”
“You know I am. Anyway, he just needed some advice.” They walked to the top of the driveway where they had small access parking for employees. Her Harley sat in the back, covered.
He opened the door to his convertible for her, making her feel for a second like they were on a real date.
“You know, people are going to try and take advantage of your experience and your knowledge.” Brooke clipped on her seatbelt as he turned on the car.
Billy rolled down the driveway and glanced sideways at Brooke. “Don’t look now, but you’re starting to sound a little like Gigi.”
“That’s just plain mean. I’m only worried about the time you spend away from the vineyard. It might give people the wrong impression.”
“Right,” he said making a turn on to Hummingbird Lane. “And Gigi is worried I’ll dilute my so-called star power by hanging with the local high school coach.”
“See, those are two different things,” Brooke said and ignored Billy’s scowl. “Our first stop today is at Giancarlo’s. They pride themselves on their extensive wine list, and we need for Mirassu to be on it.”
“Got it.”
“Okay, listen up. Giancarlo is a widower with four daughters. Sophia is the youngest and sometimes she waitresses for him.” She went on reciting facts about Giancarlo’s. Everything she knew personally, and then some. Was there anything more flattering than a celebrity who considered one to be important?
Sure, she would go ahead and use Billy’s fame to their advantage. Not to do so would be stupid.
Giancarlo greeted them in the bar area of the restaurant. “If it isn’t Billy Turlock. So pleased to meet you. Brooke, I haven’t seen you for a while. How’ve you been?”
Introductions were made all around as Giancarlo led them to a table nearby. Giancarlo talked about the World Series, going on at the moment (news to Brooke).
“I’ve got old friends on the team, so of course I favor the Giants,” Billy said, “But with a catcher like …”
Brooke tuned him out, focusing instead on Billy’s quiet confidence. He should have been out of place, but he didn’t give a hint of unease in those green eyes. Finally the conversation turned to her.
“So no longer with Serrano?” Giancarlo asked Brooke.
“We had a parting of the ways.”
“His fiancée was in here not long ago, and she doesn’t know a grape from a pea.” Giancarlo scowled.
“Would that be Chelsea?” Poor girl would be so far out of her comfort zone she might as well be flying a spaceship to the moon.
“Yes, that’s her. Anyway their wine pretty much sells itself. Can you arrange a wine tasting for us here? We haven’t carried Mirassu wines in a while. Naturally, we’ll order several cases.”
Naturally.
“I just want to know what kind of pairings I can suggest.” Giancarlo finished with a gentle smile.
She’d always been fond of him. A fairly young widower in his late forties, he’d been like a father to Brooke. He’d once strongly implied that he had connections to other wineries in the area, in case she ever wanted to move on from Serrano. She hadn’t remembered that until now.
On the way to their last meeting, Billy turned to smile at Brooke. “So glad you’re on my team, Brooke Miller.”
“Ditto. You have a way of making everyone relax and remember that we’re all Americans. And we all love baseball.”
“Well, not everyone.”
“I love baseball. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” This made Billy laugh, and Brooke caught her breath at the warm, rich sound.
On their way into Maurizzio’s, which was kitty-corner to the bank, they ran into Ted.
“See you tonight,” Ted said to Brooke after shaking hands with Billy and behaving as though he’d just run into his long lost brother from a different mother.
Billy gave Brooke a long look after Ted had walked away. “You have a date with Ted?”
“Yes,” Brooke answered. “I have a date with your biggest fan. You should be happy.”
He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t say another word on the subject. Billy held the door to the restaurant open for her, and she strutted inside. Or tried to strut, but wound up tripping on the rug in her high heels.
Billy caught her, and she narrowly avoided a face plant. “Walk much, Bungee?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Are you all right?” Stephan, Maurizzio’s son, asked.
“Just a little trip,” Brooke said, pushing away Billy’s arm, still snaked around her waist.
“That’s not what I meant. I heard you had a nervous breakdown. I didn’t believe you’d actually show up for the meeting. Billy Turlock, how you doin’, man? Big fan here. Would you mind signing a few balls? For my sons.” Stephan said with a cough.
He didn’t have any sons. Did he really expect that Brooke wouldn’t let Billy know that? Stephan had taken over the restaurant’s management because he hadn’t much choice. Maurizzio had pulled him back from a career in his first love,
gossip. Stephan ran a blog he called My Two Cents, for What it’s Worth.
“Who said Brooke had a nervous breakdown?” Billy asked, still standing a bit too close to her.
Oh, please let’s not go there. It mattered, incredibly, that Billy not know what a fool she’d made of herself. “That’s not important.”
“Not to worry,” Stephan said, ushering them to a table, “I of all people know how rumors get spread around this little town. I can see she’s fine. But it was George, the owner of Serrano. He and his fiancée were in here not long ago.”
Red hot lava coursed through Brooke’s arteries, but she took a deep breath and smiled. “Creative differences can lead to all manner of stories, and lies.”
While Billy didn’t look as happy as he’d been earlier chatting baseball with Giancarlo, his jawline tight, he did sign a few balls for Stephan’s imaginary sons. Brooke would let it go. For now.
Stephan concluded the meeting by ordering several cases without asking for a private tasting. She wasn’t about to suggest one. The less time she spent around “two cents” Stephan, the better for her reputation.
Brooke had changed out of her business pant suit and put on a pair of slender cut black jeans and matching sweater by the time Ted showed up promptly at seven o’clock for their date.
She was still thinking about how good Billy looked. Most men needed a clean shave to look that shiny. But not Billy. She still wanted to talk to him about his baseball commitments. As long as he kept denying that he was still interested in being involved in baseball in some way, shape or form, it wasn’t going to help anyone. He needed to be honest with himself and Gigi. Too bad if she didn’t like the idea.
Brooke was getting on board with the concept. Why couldn’t he be both a vintner and a high school baseball coach? Or assistant coach, or whatever they called it? As long as he could balance the two, she didn’t see a problem. The problem was in his near constant denial that he wanted anything to do with baseball.
Starlight Hill: Complete collection 1-8 Page 25
