by Kris Bryant
“Where’s the ring?” Stacy asks.
I tap my breast pocket, feeling the slight bump of the diamond nestled between my hand and my heart. “I’ve got it right here.”
“Where’s the box?” she asks.
“Didn’t Carmen take it?” I ask. We stare at one another. I’m certain my eyes are as big as hers.
“Why the hell would Carmen take it? It’s your ring, your box.”
“Shit. I’d better go upstairs and find it before Amber does,” I say.
Stacy kisses me quickly on the cheek and pushes me upstairs. “I’ll see myself out.” Again, I take the stairs two at a time, only now I sound like a stampede with my clunky heels hitting the wooden steps. Amber peeks out of the bedroom and looks down.
“Everything okay? Why are you running?” Great. Now she knows something is up.
“Umm…I forgot my identification card,” I say.
“Babe, we’ve got time. No rush. I got home early so that we wouldn’t have to hurry,” she says. I follow her into the bedroom. I scan the dresser, the bed, all around the room until I find the box on the windowsill. I don’t think she’s seen it. I’m sure she would have said something to me if she did. I need to keep her away from the window and figure out a way to swipe it and put it somewhere she can’t find. All within about three seconds. I pull her toward me into a hug to give myself time to figure it out. I move her slightly to the left so that she can’t see the box.
“Somebody’s needy today,” she says. I love her warmth. She always stops and gives me one hundred percent when she holds me. For a few moments, I simply hold her against me, loving the softness of her curves. “Do I have time for a quick shower?”
I loosen my grip and lean back to look into her eyes. “Of course. Take your time.” I don’t mean that, but I need for her to leave the bedroom right now. I position myself between her and the window while she digs out fresh clothes and tells me about her day.
“I’m so glad I’m getting away this weekend. The Campbell case is getting on my last nerve.” I nod at her, my elbow resting on the dresser, feeling pretty comfortable that my body is hiding the box. When she shifts to get around me, I reach out and stop her. “What are you doing?” she asks.
I look at her, trying to come up with a reason for stopping her movements. “Look at you. You’re barely dressed. I don’t want our neighbors to see you. They already got enough of me.”
“Nobody can see me all the way up here,” she says. “And who saw you?”
I take the opportunity to turn her to face the bathroom. We walk as I tell her the story of Bob and Ellen getting a glimpse of my boxers. I’m able to get her to stay in the bathroom and start the shower. When she starts stripping down, I kiss her softly, then leave, closing the door behind me. I race over to the windowsill, grab the box, and throw it on the top of the closet. I must be making too much noise because the door opens and she peeks out.
“What is going on out here?”
Again, I try to look innocent. “I’m trying to reach my overnight bag from the top of the closet.”
“I thought we were going to share a bag this weekend?” Why does she remember everything?
“I’m worried my stuff won’t fit.” I look at my watch and point at the bathroom. She quickly retreats and shuts the door. Another close call. This part of the day can’t get over fast enough.
Chapter Ten
I feel my heartbeat in my fingertips as I grip the steering wheel tighter. The winery is twenty minutes ahead and Amber has no idea what is about to happen. She’s chattering on about wines and why she prefers a robust red wine over a softer white. I’m trying not to let her see me sweat. Thankfully, the suit jacket I’m wearing is covering any signs of my nervousness.
“I still don’t get why wine grapes taste so different than table grapes,” she says. I know she isn’t expecting an answer. She’s talking to talk. “And so Carol says they cut several off of the vine and just let them soak back into the soil? Why?” Before I even answer, she’s trying to figure it out. “What’s the K stand for in their name? You probably don’t know either. Well, I’m excited to talk to her. She really doesn’t mind that I’m tagging along?” I’d smile at her enthusiasm, but I’m too anxious about the evening so I shake my head instead. Worrying about everything is exhausting. “Have you figured out an angle to ask her about? A way to make the story exciting and different?” She pauses so I know this is the question I’m supposed to answer.
“Well, I think if I get enough shots of the winery and the grapes, I can pretty much gear the story however I want to.” She doesn’t know that Carol and I have already had our interview. “They are doing different wine vinegar tastings, and chocolate and wine pairings. I think they even have something going on now during harvest time.” Out of the corner of my eye, I gauge her reaction.
“Vinegars are the new thing. Everybody is mixing them with alcohols, or drinking them for health benefits or preserving food naturally with them. I wonder what wine vinegar tastes like? Did you sample any?” I thought for sure she would gear her questions toward the chocolate pairings.
“I didn’t. I thought we would do that together. Well, that or the chocolate tasting. Carol told me that Chocolate, the store downtown, does their pairings. I think they might have one tonight.” That works.
“Ooh! I love that place. It’s kind of expensive, but very good,” she says.
“You’ve been there without me?”
She squeezes my knee playfully. “You don’t like chocolate.”
“That’s not true. I love chocolate milk and Hershey bars and Cocoa Puffs,” I say.
“Yes, but that’s not real chocolate. This store has real chocolate only.” She emphasizes the word real and I roll my eyes at her.
“Hershey’s has been around for over one hundred years. Why challenge the best?” This time she rolls her eyes at me.
“For somebody who has good taste, I’m surprised you’re fine with a cheap milk chocolate. Dark chocolate is the best. I hope they have the chocolate and wine pairing tonight. That sounds yummy,” she says. I smile for the first time in awhile. My plan is coming together.
“It’s inexpensive, not cheap.” I correct her and she smiles at me. I know that she likes Hershey’s as much as I do. Then again, if it’s any kind of chocolate, she’ll eat it.
I slow down because I see a van up ahead, pulled over on the side of the road with a tow truck backing up to it. Even from this distance, I can see decals with flowers on the outside of it. I say a quick prayer that it’s not my flowers on the side of the road, but the closer we get, the further my heart sinks. No, no, no. This cannot be happening right now. The hopeful side of me thinks that another van has already been called, flowers have been transferred and are now up at the winery, set into place. The realistic side just cursed up a storm.
“That’s a real bummer. Poor guy. And on a Friday night. I always hate to see people broken down on the side of the road. Hopefully, they made all of their deliveries,” Amber says.
“At least he has help now,” I say. We drive by. It says Unique Blooms on the door. Shit. Really? I already know my phone is probably blowing up like crazy, but I have it on silent and Bluetooth disabled for this very reason. I can’t risk tonight getting ruined by a phone call. I mentally scratch flowers off the list. Bad, yes. End of the world? No. It was a last minute decision anyway.
“Well, I’m excited we’re getting away for the weekend, too. I just know the next few months are going to be crazy so I’m apologizing now,” Amber says.
“No worries. I just hope your boss recognizes all of your hard work. I bet you get a really big bonus at the end of the year for how many times you’ve saved their butts,” I say. “You know, maybe you should think about going to law school.”
“But then I would never see you. You think I work long hours before trials now? You would never see me if I became a lawyer.” I miss her so much on nights when she does have to work late so I can’t
imagine her going from forty and fifty hour weeks to eighty hour weeks. “I’m perfectly happy doing what I do. I’m able to put my knowledge to work, but not have to do the hard part of actually trying the cases.” I don’t push her. She is the kind of woman who knows what she wants and goes for it. If she really wanted to go to law school, she would.
*
I’m surprised at all of the cars in the parking lot. Maybe Carol’s employees are parked there to throw Amber off. I told her that I only wanted me, Amber, and the chocolatier in the tasting room. She knows this is a private matter. I really don’t want to share the actual moment with a ton of people. I ask Amber to wait while I head into the winery for answers. I pull out my phone on the walk up to the door. I find thirteen missed calls and ten text messages. Shit. I scroll through the text messages. Sure enough, those were my flowers on the side of the highway. My money has already been reimbursed. Mary’s very sorry, but didn’t want to risk delivering them at the same time we were up there. My heart sinks a little, but I remind myself this is not the end of the world. Just a moderate hiccup.
Before I even have time to listen to my voice mails, Carol swings open the door and meets me out on the veranda. Her sopping shoes and wet pants are not a great sign. She looks completely frazzled. This is not good.
“Oh, Finn. I’m so sorry,” Carol says. “There is water everywhere. I’m trying to save what I can.” A pipe burst in one of the wine cellars. That explains all of the service people. Five workers are vacuuming, while three winery employees are getting wine bottles out. Everybody is trying to salvage what they can. “I tried calling you several times. I even called the station and asked for Kevin. Nobody could reach you. I’m so sorry to ruin your big night.” She’s squeezing my arms. The look on her face is crushing. We both are close to tears.
“Carol, don’t worry. We can do this again next week or whenever things settle down,” I say. My voice is completely calm, but I’m having a meltdown inside. I’m scrambling for a Plan B, but I’m failing miserably. Shit. “Have you heard from Antonio?” Maybe Plan B still involves chocolate.
“No. Well, he might have called, but I haven’t answered the main phone because of all of this. I’ve only been answering my cell.” She shakes her head at all of the chaos. The more I think about it, the more lame it is without the winery as a backdrop. I move on to Plan C.
“Don’t worry about it. I will call him and reschedule. Just take care of this and call me when things settle down.” I muster a smile and nod at her. It’s going to be okay. I repeat it silently, but even I don’t believe it. Plan C has yet to materialize. It might just have to be Plan A on a different day. I walk over to Amber who is hanging back, trying not to get in the way.
“So what happened? Do they need our help?”
“No. A pipe burst down in one of the cellars and they are trying to save as much as they can. We should probably just get out of here.” I’m afraid I will start crying if I stick around so I hustle us back to the car. Shit. I need to call Antonio. “Let me call Kevin. Hang on.” Sometimes it’s okay to lie. I fumble around with my phone until Amber slips into the car and shuts the door. This isn’t a conversation she needs to hear so I casually walk away from the car in case she overhears me.
“Hi, it’s Finn. There’s an emergency at the winery and we’re going to have to reschedule.” I turn as I hear a car drive up the driveway, surprised to see him pulling up. He waves, then covers up when he sees Amber in the car.
“What’s going on?” he asks. He is still sitting in his car and looking around, avoiding me in case Amber is watching him.
“A pipe busted and they are trying to clean up water so this isn’t happening right now.”
“I’m so sorry. Do you need anything? Are you going to do it somewhere else?” I can’t think of another place where a guy serving us chocolate would be normal unless it’s a store or a winery during a pairing.
“Thanks, but we’ll just have to do it another time. I’ll call you after the weekend. Thank you for everything.” He assures me the chocolate will keep. He gets out of his car and heads into the winery, ignoring me. I climb into my car, the numbness setting in as I try to figure out what to do next.
“Will Carmen be okay not doing the story?” Shit. Now I have to tell Carmen not to congratulate us because it’s not happening today. I rub my hands over my face to give myself time to think. I feel Amber’s hand on my leg, her long fingers squeezing reassuringly.
“I’ll text her. She’s in a meeting right now. I think it will be fine, though. I don’t really have a deadline on the story.” I quickly shoot Carmen a text telling her what happened and not to say anything to me or Amber. I take a deep breath before I put the car in gear.
Amber touches my face. “Don’t worry. They’ll have the place cleaned up in no time and you can probably come back and finish the story early next week. Let’s just go to the beach and forget about work and relax for two days.” Amber wasted no time when we decided to go to the beach after I told her about the story on K Meadows Winery. She booked us a room at a very nice bed and breakfast just down the coast. It’s about an hour’s drive from the winery. Hopefully, traffic won’t be too crazy.
“It will be fine. You just know how much I hate it when something doesn’t go the way I had planned,” I say.
She nods emphatically. “The winery will still be there and Carol said whenever it gets fixed she would call you, right? Don’t think about that anymore. Think about the ocean and how peaceful it is. When was the last time we went to the beach?” I can actually feel my body relax at the thought. I’m still wound up though because how many times do you propose in your life? If you’re lucky, only once. With any luck, we can pick this back up next weekend. Amber already told me that she was going to be super busy for the next two months so I might have to do it next Sunday.
“You’re right. We’ll have a great weekend and can try again next week.” I grab her hand and hold it. “I love you. Thank you for always being wonderful.”
Chapter Eleven
The drive to the seaside hotel is really lovely. I have a beautiful woman by my side and this evening is gorgeous. We have the windows down, the sunroof open, and Amber is singing at the top of her lungs. It’s hard not to be in a good mood. Plus, if I keep acting as if somebody killed my pet—not Charley because he’s part devil, but a cute little fluff ball pup—Amber is going to start suspecting something. Or worse, she will start getting angry with me.
“Oh, here’s Morningside Road. Turn left up here,” she says, pointing to a street just ahead. I slow down and take my time driving the winding road down to the hotel. It’s a beautiful place and the ocean is only a short walk away.
“This is gorgeous. It’s so out of place for the beach, but just seems to fit in, you know. Look at the architecture,” I say. Structural design has always appealed to me. The hotel is very reminiscent of an East Coast bed and breakfast; charming, yet grandiose. I park and Amber volunteers to check in and get our key. I stretch my arms out in front of me, shake out the tension, and lean my hip against the car. The sun is low in the sky, ribbons of warm orange and cool blue drifting from it. I finally find peace. The ocean and the sky remind me that everything is still okay. There will be another day when I can propose. If this is the worst thing that happens to me, I’m living a charmed life.
“Hey, you. Quit daydreaming and let’s go check out where we’re staying. The sun is going to set soon and I want to watch it set while snuggling with you on the beach.” Amber leans over the railing, her hair falling over her shoulder, a magnificent smile on her face. I wink at her and grab our bags from the backseat. She leads the way to a small two room bungalow apart from the large house. It, too, faces the ocean. Our view is incredible. A thin layer of sand blankets the steps up to the porch. Two royal blue Adirondack chairs are in front of the windows. A part of me wants to drop the bags and curl up in one to watch the sunset from here. I’m already completely relaxed just by looking at the
entrance. Amber nudges me forward and snakes around me to unlock the door. She pushes it open and steps back for me to enter. I bow at her thoughtfulness and she winks at me. The inside is deceptively spacious and I instantly fall in love with its warmth.
I turn to Amber. “You said we were just getting a room here. This is a cottage. It’s adorable,” I say. There is a queen size bed on the far end of the room behind a screen for privacy. A love seat sits perpendicular to a fireplace made of stacked stones. The coffee table has coasters with the bed and breakfast’s logo etched on them and several magazines. Two bouquets sit on either side of the bed, adding an extra bit of flair and sweetness to the room. Very romantic. This was obviously designed for a couple in love. “Oh my. They even have your flowers.” I point to white and pink calla lilies in a vase on the nightstand. Now, I’m a little jealous that I couldn’t give them to her, but at least she gets them even if not from me.
“Let’s go to the beach before we have dinner. I really want to watch the sunset with you. If you’re hungry, there are a few snacks at the main house if you want to grab something to tide you over,” she says.
“Oh, and Carol gave me wine for this weekend,” I say.
“When did she do that?” Amber looks at me quizzically. I know she is trying to reconstruct my schedule for the past week so again I have to scramble around to cover my tracks. She catches me at every sneaky thing I try to do.
“Kevin and I went up earlier this week to get video of mornings at the vineyard. Wait until you see how cool the fog looks in the rows of grapes. Carol didn’t really spend any time with me, other than to hand me a few bottles of wine for you to try. I told her that you and I were headed to the beach after I was done with the interview. I left them in the car and just now remembered they were there.” I fumble around putting the suitcases on the couch, trying to buy time. She doesn’t question me, other than to ask what kind of wine. I have no idea so I’m able to shrug it off without trying too hard.
