Internally, I know that wasn’t a job for me, but I’m desperate. And a part of me thought that if I was offered the job, I would stop entertaining the idea of applying for the Carlisle Cellars position. Wine, I know. Babies, not so much.
Lucy walks toward me after wiping a table. Her eyebrows lift, and her eyes widen. “Are you okay?” she asks slowly.
“Uh-huh…” Pieces of muffin spew from my mouth. Horrified, I grab a napkin and cover my mouth, but that doesn’t stop Lucy from bending over in laughter.
“Sorry,” I let out when I finish swallowing the huge bite and wiping my mouth clean. I grab another napkin and clean the tabletop and my book.
“That was funny.” She wipes the corners of her eyes. “So, what’s got you spittin’ blueberry muffin out of your mouth?” Her amusement rings loud and clear in her question.
“It’s nothing.” I shake my head, not wanting to bore her with my job search.
“Come on.” She takes a seat and places her hands on the table, the towel she was using gripped in one hand. “We’re friends, right? I mean, I think we are. Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed that. You’re a just customer who’s nice to me.” She’s rambling, her eyebrows furrowing deeper with each word coming out of her mouth.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there,” I giggle. “I’m just not used to people being nice to me, is all. I don’t have many friends, and none of them are from here,” I accidentally confess. I cringe when I realize what I said and hate the pity on Lucy’s face.
“Well, you’ve got me now.” She smiles so genuinely, and she has no idea what that means to me.
“Thanks,” I nod. Despite only knowing her for a few weeks, she’s been kind and friendly, so I decide to talk to her and hope she can offer some insight. “I’m just having a hard time finding a job.”
“Oh…” she frowns. “Too bad we aren’t hiring here. It’d be so fun to work together.”
“I’m not sure I’d make a good barista. You’re happy and extroverted. I’d probably spill coffee on a customer.” Lucy laughs loudly and snorts, and I can’t help my own laughter at her ridiculousness.
“I doubt you would, but that’d be funny. There are some customers I’d like to spill their coffee on. Most days, I need major self-control.”
I’m surprised by her confession, and it must show because she says, “Don’t look at me like that,” she giggles. “I’m nice, but some people are rude as heck.”
I nod, understanding what she means. Leaning forward, I whisper so only she can hear me, “Yeah, a lot of people here could use a rude awakening.”
“It’s on them, though. I believe in karma and being kind.” She shrugs as if that should be explanation enough. “Be kind, or karma kicks ya in the ass.”
At her comment, I spit as a cackle sputters out of my mouth. Covering my face as it heats, I can’t help but laugh at her refreshing honesty. “Thanks for the laugh. I needed it.” I smile at her.
“Anytime. Now, we need to find you a job, stat. I’ll help you search and ask around to see if anyone has an opening.” She doesn’t realize how much her unconditional support means to me.
Besides my mom, I’ve never had anyone who has wanted to help me just because. Lucy offers her help in her free time because she says we’re friends, as simple as that.
“I appreciate that.” Maybe having friends isn’t as overrated as I thought, and it makes me realize exactly how lonely I’ve made myself by keeping people at a distance. I thought everyone was going to treat me like those bad apples did when I was younger.
“Don’t mention it. Now, I gotta go back to work before someone tells my boss I sit and chitchat during my hours.” She rolls her eyes and stands.
Grateful, I finish my coffee and read another chapter of my new book before leaving The Grind with a lightness I haven’t felt before. It helps that Lucy didn’t know who I was before I moved back. She may be younger than me, but she’s a lot more mature than some people my age. I’ve seen people whispering about me since I moved back, but I’ve ignored them. There’s no point fueling their gossip.
Enjoying the sunshine warming my face as I walk back to my house, I roll the pros and cons of applying for the position at the winery around in my mind.
Pros: It’s a great position and opportunity. The pay is good. It’s in Willow Creek, so it’s not a long commute. I’ll be able to afford a queen-size bed. I could eventually buy myself a car. I like wine.
Cons: Miles Carlisle. He’ll be my boss. And I’ll feel like I owe him and his family if they offer me the position.
Regardless of this, I need something to do with my time. My savings is starting to dwindle. While I love spending time at The Grind, my paradise escape will have to stop soon if I don’t get a job because coffee is going to become a luxury.
When I get home, I grab the mail and start on dinner while I wait for my mom to get home from work. As the pasta sauce simmers, I check through the stack of mail, throwing out the ads we aren’t interested in. I pause when I see a folded paper with my name scrawled across it. There’s no envelope or return address, just my name.
With furrowed brows, I open the paper and stare at it with wide, disbelieving eyes. I read the messy handwriting, groaning.
Junebug: A beautiful girl all the guys want to date
Example:
Him to his friend: Damn, look at that girl. She’s a junebug. I need to ask her out.
His friend: She is cute. Go for it, buddy.
Him to girl: Hey cutie, wanna go out?
Girl to him: …
To Be Continued
Yes or No? Circle your response.
He’s got to be kidding me. Tilting my head back, I stare at the ceiling and internally scream. What is he playing at? I crumple the paper and stick it in the pocket of my jean shorts, so my mom doesn’t see it and encourages me to date Miles. Ha! As if that would ever happen.
I get back to dinner, checking on the pasta and stirring the sauce, inhaling the aroma of basil, garlic, and the splash of red wine I added. It’s all simmering together to create a tomato sauce full of layers of flavor. I get lost in my cooking, but unlike other times, I can’t clear my mind completely.
The note burning a hole in my pocket might be the exact reason why I shouldn’t apply for the job. If Miles is pestering me after only seeing me twice, I have a feeling if he sees me multiple times a week, he’s not going to stop until he clears his twisted conscience. What kind of twilight zone did I step into when I moved back to Willow Creek? The kind where Miles Carlisle asks me out on a date via a handwritten note, that’s what.
I snap out of my thoughts when I hear the front door open and focus all my energy on stirring the sauce as if it’s the most interesting thing in the universe.
“Smells good. Hi, honey.” My mom places her purse on the stool and walks around the peninsula to peek over my shoulder.
“Thanks, just spaghetti and meat sauce.” I switch off the burner and strain the spaghetti before tossing it with the sauce.
“Well, it looks delicious. Thank you for cooking.” My mom kisses my cheek, and I shake my head.
“You don’t have to thank me, Momma. You work hard enough. You shouldn’t have to come home and cook, too.”
“You know, I’m not elderly yet. I’m not even fifty.” She gives me a pointed look daring me to argue.
I shrug. “I know you aren’t, but I still think you bust your back at work. If I can help, I will.”
My mom goes about setting the plates on the counter while I sprinkle some cheese over the pasta before placing the pot on a trivet in front of the plate settings. We eat in comfortable silence until my mom speaks the words I was hoping she wouldn’t bring up.
“I heard there is a part-time opening at the winery. I thought that would be perfect for you.” She eyes me over her water glass.
I groan, tossing my head down until my chin hits the top of my chest.
“Don’t react that way. You’re being stubborn, June Da
isy Sullivan.” Great, she brought out my full name.
“Mom…”
“Nope, you listen to me, young lady.” She turns her body so she’s facing me, dinner long forgotten. “You’re smart, beautiful—don’t roll your eyes—funny, responsible, creative. Anyone would be lucky to employ you. The thing is that you block yourself of the opportunity for anyone to get to know you. Don’t let anger misguide you.” She softens her words, reaching out for my hands and squeezing one gently. “I love you, and I want to see you flourish like the beautiful and strong woman I know you are. But you need to believe it for yourself.”
Sniffling, I nod and look away from her. “What’s a college dropout good for?” I whisper so quietly I’m not sure she hears me until she breathes fire. Stunned by her reaction, I sit back on my stool, knowing I stirred momma dragon.
“As much as I support education, it’s not all there is in life. You can be successful without a degree. You can beat the odds you’ve created in your own mind. Madison didn’t go to college and look at her.”
“Momma,” I sigh. “Madison didn’t go to college because she got a record deal and is rolling in dough as she tours internationally,” I say of Miles's twin sister.
“She didn’t believe in limitations, and you shouldn’t either. Apply for the job. It might be a great opportunity and give you the push you need to find your passion. Who knows, maybe you’ll make a career out of drinking wine,” she giggles, and I can’t help but laugh along with her as the tension dissipates.
“I’ll think about it, okay? It might be my only option. I didn’t get the job at the daycare,” I drop my head.
My mom lifts my chin, and a determined look reflects in her eyes.
“Good.” I’m surprised by her comment. “I couldn’t see you changing diapers and running after young children. I’m not knocking that career because it must be one of the hardest, but it’s not you. Your experience is working in an office in Los Angeles. Put that brain to use. You were the smartest girl in your class.” She taps my temple.
“And before you argue, let me remind you that I know exactly why you weren’t valedictorian in high school.” I look down shamefully and hide my face from her.
When the principal told me I was valedictorian, I begged him to pick someone else. He refused, saying my grades were the best. I didn’t want to give the kids another reason to tease me, so I purposely failed my last two finals so my GPA would drop.
“Now, let’s eat,” she adds, ending the conversation.
My head is spinning as I finish dinner and excuse myself to my room. As much as I spent the day alone, I need more alone time to figure out my next move. As I change out of my shorts, the note from Miles falls out of the pocket and I grab it, staring at the words. My heart slams against my ribcage as I re-read it. If I apply for this job, it will give him more reason to think he has a right to pursue me. Again, what world did I step into when I came back?
Shaking my head, I put on my pajamas and lie in bed with my book.
Chapter 5
Miles
I blow out a deep breath and run a frustrated hand through my hair; no shit’s given that it’ll mess up my perfectly combed look. If I have to interview one more dud for this job, I’m going to quit myself. Brett, my older brother, thinks it’s hilarious to hand this responsibility over to me, saying I know exactly what we need since I run this part of our family business.
With a degree in hospitality, it was a given that I’d run the restaurant and tasting room in the winery. But…something’s missing.
Before I can go down that rabbit hole, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Grinning, I answer, grateful for the distraction.
“Hey, Dimples.”
“Hi, Smiles.” I hear my twin sister’s smile as she speaks.
“What’s up? You’re calling me early.” Madison lives in Nashville, where she’s made a name for herself in the country music industry.
I’m so proud of her, even if I miss her. I always knew this was her path. Since we were kids, she’d use anything possible as a microphone and sing her heart out. She used to make me sit for hours as her only audience. If I didn’t cheer or clap loud enough, she’d glare until she was happy with my reaction.
“Nothing. I’ve had a slow week, and I wanted to call.”
“You sound tired.” I point out. I can’t imagine the stress she lives with always being in the spotlight and keeping up with the lifestyle of a celebrity.
“I was up late,” she says with nonchalance.
“So much for a slow week,” I chuckle.
“I’m used to staying up late, so it’s hard to fall asleep. Anyway, how are you?”
I lean back on the chair in my office and blow out a breath. “Frustrated,” I say honestly.
“Ah, I knew my twin radar was signaling for a reason,” she giggles. “What’s going on?”
“I’m interviewing people, and it’s a pain in the ass. One of our tasting room personnel quit, and Brett has been kind enough to let me handle the hiring process.” My final words drip with sarcasm. Usually, he interviews the candidates first, then brings me in for a second opinion.
“What an ass, that older brother of ours, to give you the opportunity to choose the person you’ll have to train and work with.” Madison laughs freely. We haven’t had much time to talk lately, so it’s good to hear her happy.
“I get it, but it’s a pain. I swear no one is qualified for this job. Either they think they’ll get free wine, or they…” I trail off without finishing that sentence. I don’t need to tell Madison that the last girl came dressed as if she was going out to a nightclub. Her skirt was so short, I refused to look anywhere below her chin in case she was flashing me. Her top had more cleavage than appropriate, and I didn’t miss the way she was trying to flirt.
I’m all about having a good time, but there’s a place and a time for it. This is not one, and a woman who shows her obvious desperation is not attractive to me. Besides, I don’t need to mix my professional and personal life.
“You’ll find the right person,” she assures me.
“Thanks, Dimples. Now, tell me about your upcoming tour.” I sit back and smile as my sister tells me everything she’s got coming up, the different performances, the award shows, and the new songs she’s been working on.
I relax, and by the time we hang up, I’m feeling more confident about finding someone to fill this position. Our busy season is beginning as spring rolls into summer, with groups of people scheduling tours and drop-ins coming for tastings. Carla, our current tasting room employee, can’t handle it all.
Standing and stretching, I head out to the vineyard and walk along the never-ending rows of vines. My mind has been preoccupied with June. I’ve known her my whole life, but I have a feeling I never saw her—at least, not the way I saw her when I ran into her again. Well, ran into is a stretch. I may have offered to take Ms. Sullivan home, hoping that I’d see June and the person she’s grown up to be. I was curious.
We weren’t really friends. She was always introverted, never participating in activities. I always remember her being like that since she was a little girl. I also wasn’t deaf to the things they’d say about her at school. I’m sure she knew it, too.
Tilting my head back to the sunshine, I give myself a few more minutes before heading back inside to check on the restaurant and then continue reviewing resumes. Thankfully, it’s Friday, and I’m ready to have a drink tonight at our local watering hole.
I sit at a table with a couple of friends, finally unwinding from the insane interviews. I scan the bar. Last Call is everyone’s favorite place to come for a drink, and this Friday, it’s packed to the seams. Looks like everyone decided to come.
“Are you listening, Carrot Top?” I hear my friends snicker and glower at Noah, one of my clearly obnoxious friends. He lifts his hands. “Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you were born a ginger, and I knew that’d get your attention. What are you looking at?” He looks over m
y shoulder.
“Nothing in particular. Looks like the whole town is here today.” I grab my scotch and take a sip.
“Anyway,” Noah shakes his head. “We were talking about…”
I blur him out again as soon as my eyes land on the smile of the woman I’ve been thinking about lately. June sits with the barista from The grind, sipping a glass of wine. Her hair is braided on the back of her head, and the off-the-shoulder top she wears lures me in, wondering what her skin tastes like.
I jolt when I’m slapped in the back of the head. “What the fuck?” I growl, rubbing the spot that was just hit.
Noah stares at me with raised questioning eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you aren’t looking at anything, or anyone, in particular.”
“Fuck off, that shit hurt.”
“Isn’t that June Sullivan?” Mark, another friend, asks, pointing in her direction with the neck of his beer bottle.
“Where?” Noah looks around the bar. “Shit, you’re right. The nerd got hot.”
“Watch it,” I bark out in a growl, nostrils flaring.
Noah’s eyes widen before a slow smile creeps on his face. “That’s right, you and Luke had that falling out because of her. Made us choose between the two of you.” Luke was my best friend growing up until he wasn’t—and yeah, it had to do with June.
“It was an easy choice when he moved away from Willow Creek, and you stayed.” Mark shrugs, laughing.
“Asshat.” I throw out before looking at June again. Noah’s right; she looks even better. She’s beautiful. I observe her for a few minutes, and when her eyes meet mine and widen, I lift my glass in a toast.
June narrows her eyes and turns back to the woman with her, ignoring me. Although we weren’t friends, I don’t understand her hostility toward me.
“Oh, burn. Guess she’s not as amused by you,” Noah claps my shoulder.
I ignore Noah’s comment and watch the slope of her neck as she tips her head back to finish her glass. Her mouth is moving, and her cheeks are flushed, probably from the wine. I wonder if she’s drinking one of ours, and I find myself hoping she is.
Not So Charming: A Hate to Lovers Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 1) Page 3
