Just Like That

by Karin Kallmaker

  “Not the Cabernet,” the man said. “That’s for the picnic.”

  “You got it.” She carefully wrapped the bottle of reserve and totaled the two at the register. Credit card and wine were exchanged as she finished the transaction. “And as you can see,” she said to Missy, “what you do with that bottle of wine when you walk out our door is your business. You just can’t drink it in here.”

  “Hence your beautiful patio, and that gazebo just down the hill.”

  Syrah nodded. “Ready for the Riesling?”

  Missy tipped the rest of the Chardonnay into the crock nearest her and Syrah rinsed the glass with a swish of water, tipping it again into the crock. “Oh, it’s got a lovely color on it.”

  “It does, and good legs for a Riesling. We’ve done better, I’ll be honest, but this is a fine white wine for a party. Good quality and taste but won’t break the bank.”

  “That’s actually why I came. I’m hosting a—”

  “Miss Bingley!” Bennett emerged from the kitchen, busily wiping both hands on a tea towel. “You’ve made a beeline for us, how flattering. You’ve met our Syrah, I see.”

  “That I have, Mrs. Bennett.”

  “Bennett—everyone calls me Bennett. You would like a plate of my strawberries and cheese, I can tell. Syrah here picked those strawberries this morning. She’s very useful and everyone agrees she’s easy on the—”

  “I can’t pour for her and serve her food at the same time, Bennett. You know that.”

  “Silly rules and nonsense.” Bennett swooped down on Missy Bingley, taking her by the arm. “You’ll put one foot in my kitchen and I will serve you food, and Syrah will pour for you from her side.”

  Missy laughed, and Syrah had to admit it was charming and seemed genuine enough. “I actually had a sandwich before I came, because I didn’t want to get tipsy. But thank you very much, Bennett, for the offer.”

  Bennett stepped back as Missy picked up her glass of wine. “Are you considering an Ardani vintage for your Wine for Dimes get-together? Such a neighborly thing to do.” She fixed Syrah with a hard look.

  “Yes, it is,” Syrah belatedly chimed in. “And when the order is for a charity event we extend wholesale prices and could be easily talked into donating a bottle or two of something special for auction. Our ’ninety-four reserve Cabernet Sauvignon is coming into its prime.”

  “I do like this one,” Missy said. “It’s very cheerful.”

  Syrah grinned. “And you say you don’t know the lingo of wine. A well-balanced pH to me is cheerful to you. Would you like to try the Gewürztraminer?”

  “No, I rarely care for it. But the Pinot Noir is a must.” She extended her glass.

  “You’ll be at the Spring Fling, won’t you, Miss Bingley?”

  “Everybody calls me Missy, Bennett. And yes, I will be. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “It’ll seem a bit of a country dance after San Francisco,” Syrah observed.

  “Nonsense.” Bennett wrapped the towel around her hands as if she wanted to snap Syrah with it. “It’s an enjoyable evening.”

  “You’ve never been to it.” Syrah watched Missy taste the Pinot and could tell Missy liked it from the way she took a deep breath after she swallowed.

  Missy’s gaze flicked to the pricing sheet and Syrah could almost see her asking herself, “Yes, but do I like it twice as much?”

  The door chime tinkled and Syrah glanced up. “Goodness, is it noon already?”

  Jane had a sour expression as she crossed the room. “Yeah, and I’m filthy. I need to wash up.” She disappeared into the kitchen with Bennett in hot pursuit.

  “I don’t have many strawberries, Jane, so no poaching.” The door swung shut behind them.

  Missy finished the Pinot with a slight shiver of delight. “This is extremely tasty. I thought the Chardonnay was good, but in comparison, it’s not in this league.”

  “That’s why I served the Chardonnay to you first. You’ll find a lot of our Chardonnay in the markets, but only a specialty shop will have the Pinot.”

  “I can really taste the difference.”

  The kitchen door swung open again. “You’d think the strawberries are made of gold,” Jane complained.

  Missy transferred her gaze from Syrah to Jane and Syrah was abruptly aware that Missy’s eyes were a light, twinkling shade of blue and the color that flushed her pale skin quite attractive. One slender hand needlessly tidied her short blond curls, and the carefully crimsoned lips were parted as if she was going to say something but had forgotten how to speak.

  After several seconds, Syrah glanced at Jane and nearly did a double-take. Jane’s color was rising, too, but only someone who knew her well would be able to tell under the tan. She seemed frozen in place and was uncharacteristically quite, quite still.

  Bennett bustled out of the kitchen again, then paused to take in the tableau. She looked first at the blushing Missy, then the deer-in-the-headlights Jane, and finally gave Syrah a look that said, “And look what you’ve missed out on now!”

  The silence was broken by the arrival of her father, who beamed at Jane. “Haven’t seen you in a dog’s year.”

  Jane, flushed to her ears, managed to say, “Hi. Yeah,” before she went back to staring at Missy.

  Syrah hoisted the first bottle of red on the tasting list. “Cabernet?”

  Missy’s batting eyelashes could have fanned a forest fire. “Yes, please, unless you’ve…got a date.” Her gaze darted to Jane, who, Syrah decided, looked exceedingly stupid with her mouth hanging open.

  “Not a date,” she started to say.

  “I’ll finish pouring, Syrah. You could use a break after dealing with the testing meters all morning.” Her father took the bottle of Cabernet out of her hand and turned his genial host’s smile on Missy. “I’m Anthony Ardani. What have you liked so far?”

  “This is Missy Bingley, who’s just bought Netherfield,” Bennett explained.

  Syrah marched across the room to clamp onto Jane’s arm. “Let’s go for a swim,” she said pleasantly, all the while dragging Jane toward the door. “What the heck was that all about?” she demanded once they were in Jane’s old truck.

  “Who was that?”

  “Missy Bingley. You said she needed a wife.”

  “Wow.”

  “I thought I should get you two a room or something.”

  “Wow.” Jane’s turn onto the back road was distracted. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Syrah rolled her eyes. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

  “Oh, come on, Syrah. Wasn’t she gorgeous? And that smile!”

  Syrah had to grin. “I’ll admit she’s very pretty. And quite charming.”

  “Did she notice me?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. She just blushed and stared for two full minutes.”

  “Not on account of me.”

  “Well, it wasn’t over me, and it wasn’t over Bennett.”

  “I have to figure out how to see her again. Maybe I can get onto one of the landscaping crews she’s going to need.”

  Jane was incapable of speaking on any other subject for the duration of their dip in the pond. She took forever to get dressed, which made them late, and was still in a rosy, puppy-love state when she shoved Syrah out of the truck at the foot of the road.

  Hiking up the winding road to the house, she saw that Missy Bingley’s car was still there. If only Jane had known, Syrah mused, I wouldn’t be getting all sweaty walking up the hill.

  Her father was chatting with Missy in an easy fashion and wrapping several bottles. Missy turned when she heard the door chime and smiled sweetly at Syrah, but her gaze searched behind her, then fell.

  “Jane was late getting back to work and couldn’t stop in,” Syrah explained.

  “Of course.”

  Syrah sighed to herself. She didn’t want to lose Jane to some doomed romance for the duration of the summer, but they’d been friends too long for her
not to help Jane when she could. “She’s an artist, most of the time. But right now she’s making the rent money landscaping.”

  “Jane’s quite talented,” her father observed. “I can’t say I understand her art, but she has a way with plants. Our hillside was originally her creation.”

  Missy glanced out the window. “Is it? It’s lovely, all the different shades of purple and red, with oranges along the crest. I love those feathery sages mixed with the spikey ones—is that aloe? All that variety but it’s beautiful as a whole, too.”

  “You should see her paintings,” Syrah offered.

  “Yes.” Missy’s tone made Syrah want an insulin injection. “Yes, I should.”

  Chapter 4

  “Gotta love being able to work at thirty-two thousand feet!” The man in the seat adjacent to Toni’s plugged his laptop into the outlet and reached for the snack the steward had provided just after they reached cruising altitude. “This is what makes first class worth it.”

  Toni shrugged. “I actually enjoy being unreachable for the duration of a flight. Sometimes it’s the only rest I get.” She finished the water she’d requested and reclined in her seat. Turning her face to the window she hoped the fellow would become quickly engrossed in his work. Airplane small talk could be tiresome.

  Her nerves quieted and she went through her To Do list for arrival in California. Missy was going to pick her up in San Francisco and they were frantically driving to someplace north in order to get to a dance on time. She hadn’t intended to make the trip so quickly, but after the scene with Mira she had found nearly everything about her apartment, New York and the office intensely irritating. She wanted to be away from it all, for a little while. California was as good a place as any, even if she’d have to go out into the country.

  When she’d gotten to Mira’s hotel, Rafi had called up to announce he was ready for her party. Toni hadn’t been surprised when Nancy had appeared along with Mira. It was very Mira, to have Toni pay for the cab ride to get Mira and her new lover out of town. Mira cared very little who paid for things in her life, as long as she didn’t have to—that much was becoming exceedingly clear.

  Both women had been surprised to find Toni in the back of the waiting car. Nancy drew back hastily, as if trying not to be seen, while Mira merely gaped.

  “Nancy, Mira and I are going for a short drive through the park. We’ll be back in just a few.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Mira dripped haughty disdain into every word.

  “It is. Trust me, it is. I had an interesting talk with Crystal this morning.”

  Mira had enough decency to look momentarily chagrined, then she nodded at Nancy. “We’ll be right back. Don’t worry, we can always get another flight to Houston.”

  Nancy, having not said a word, faded into the background of Toni’s thoughts as they pulled away from the curb. So even the bit about going home to London was a lie. The divider was up between them and the driver, so she didn’t bother to mince words.

  “I’ve covered the money you stole from Crystal.”

  “I stole nothing! I knew you’d cover it.”

  “In that case, it’s the money you stole from me.”

  “I’ll pay you back when I get my estate.”

  Toni opened her portfolio and extracted a single sheet of paper. “This is the total of the cost of the jewelry you borrowed from me, and Crystal’s money.”

  “What did you do, take an inventory after you walked out last night? Did you count the teaspoons, too?”

  The sneer on Mira’s face was unattractive and Toni had to stop herself from pointing that out. She didn’t want to get into a shouting match. “I noticed the amethyst bracelet was gone, and then of course, I looked for the earrings.”

  “I’ll send them back.”

  “Of course you will. I’m glad we don’t misunderstand that they’re mine.”

  “You are being a bitch about this.” Mira stared out the window as she sulked.

  It was a sunny day in Central Park, but inside the car it felt like winter. Toni tried not to remember how Mira had made her laugh sometimes. There was no laughter left, making the past irrelevant.

  “The jewelry doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s Crystal—I can’t believe you lied to her and took her money. You could have called me. I might have even said yes.”

  “Given the way you took the news of my leaving, I had no reason to think so. You weren’t open to talking about anything.”

  “What was I supposed to do, Mira? It was over. You said it yourself. You’d already cleared out, already helped yourself to what you wanted.”

  “I didn’t think you’d walk out like that. It was humiliating. I had to make up a lie to a waiter.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind lying to Crystal.” Before Mira could protest, she went on, “Were we supposed to dine and kiss good-bye at the door? I don’t get it.”

  “No, you don’t. I didn’t realize that until you walked out.”

  “Wait—you are not going to make this situation into a guessing game where I have to figure out what I did wrong. I walked out of a restaurant. You were walking out of our relationship. You ended it, not me.”

  Mira glared at her across the space separating them. There was no charm in her now, and no remnant of the graceful, easy, seductive woman who had first attracted Toni. “Yes, I did, and now you’re being petty.”

  “Thirty thousand dollars cheated out of one of my employees— seduced out of her—that’s not petty.” Toni couldn’t help her rising tone.

  “Is that it? Is it because I gave Crystal what she’d been craving for months?”

  “You and Crystal are adults and can do anything you want. But you tricked her out of money, fucked her and left her feeling shitty because she thought she’d betrayed me. And then she discovered you’d lied to her about the money. But none of that matters to you, does it?”

  Mira leaned toward Toni, her eyes dark with anger. “First of all, I knew you’d pay her back—you are incredibly predictable. And I was done with you and could have fucked anyone I wanted without your middle-class values getting all up in arms. And she was not thinking about you when she dragged me into that bathroom. If she’s guilty, that’s not my problem, and now she knows she wasn’t getting it on with her boss’s girlfriend, so where’s the injury? Exactly what have I done?”

  Toni was nonplussed. “You caused Crystal a massive amount of anxiety and pain. She feels like a dupe.”

  “But it’s all better now. She’ll forgive me, even. I bet we hook up when I get back. She was very…eager.”

  Toni couldn’t look at Mira, and in her mind’s eye all she could see was Crystal’s tear-streaked face. What a horrible first time with a woman—Crystal might never trust a lover again. Hell, Toni thought, I might not either. She’d had no idea Mira could be like this. “I was supposed to beg you to stay, wasn’t I? And when I didn’t, you decided to hurt someone else.”

  “You give yourself too much importance, Toni, dear.” The modulated, sexy British accent that Toni had found so attractive became a stabbing pain behind her ears.

  “You resigned, and I was supposed to make a counteroffer to keep you. Oh!” Another thought occurred to her and she slowly smiled at Mira. “Thirty thousand—that was the finder’s fee you expected from the Bookworthy deal. But Kyle told you yesterday morning it wasn’t going through. You figured you were owed it anyway and Crystal was handy. How efficient—you used the fewest number of people for the maximum return,” she ended sarcastically.

  “I learned it from you.”

  “I don’t use people.”

  “Oh, really? What do you call your business tactics?”

  “Honest. I don’t deny they’re brutal sometimes. But I am honest with people.”

  “Tell that to all those people in Georgia out of work because you wouldn’t budge on your investment rate.”

  “I’d compromised all I could on behalf of the potential investor consortium. The
owners, the union, the city government—they refused to compromise at all. So I walked. I told them that I would, I gave them a deadline, and then I walked.”

  “And all those people lost their jobs.”

  Wounded by the memory, Toni said fiercely, “That’s not my fault. I’m not representing a charity that will give millions of dollars to keep a poorly run company in business, a company that will keep wanting more and more while everyone selfishly thinks they are owed what they have. The union needed to come down ten percent, and I wanted the owners to give up fifteen. The city needed to extend tax incentives already in place for three more years, and then and only then were my investors willing to take on risk at a low rate of return because I really wanted to save those jobs. But everybody wanted the money for free.” Toni gave Mira a scathing look. “Money is only free to people like you.”

  Mira was smiling and Toni hated that Mira had successfully goaded her into a tirade. “And here we are at last. I knew sooner or later you’d resent that I inherited my money and you had to get lucky in a few business deals to have yours.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Mira, darling. I meant you taking money that’s not yours, and thinking you’re owed it. You have no intention of paying me back.”

  “I don’t now.” Mira shrugged, coolly assured. “I wanted to end things as friends.”

  “I am not some aging executive who needs to pay for a young pretty thing on his arm to look successful. Did you really think I was going to beg you to stay, and pay you to do so?”

  There was an abrupt suspicion of tears in Mira’s eyes, but Toni didn’t believe them. “I thought you loved me. I thought you’d show it. And once I knew for sure that you did, I was going to ask you for a loan. But you’ve no idea how hurt I was last night. You cut me to the bone when you didn’t even answer me.”

  I don’t love you anymore. Toni made herself replay that phrase, and she ground the shattered glass of it into her brain again and again. Remember the facts, she told herself. Gritting her teeth she said, “Your Plan A didn’t work out, and you executed Plan B. You would have been long gone if Crystal’s plane hadn’t been late. So here’s the deal.”