The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast)

by Rusilko, Dr. Ivan

  He led them to a table and motioned to a waitress standing by the bar.

  “I want you to try everything,” he instructed as he pulled out their chairs. When they were seated, he nodded politely and took his leave.

  “Susan!” Jaden yelled as she looked up at the waitress. In an instant she’d jumped up from the table. “I thought you’d moved! And you changed your hair! I love it.”

  The now-blond server hugged Jaden and blanketed her with a torrent of words. “It’s so good to see you. I was working downtown, but it didn’t work out, and Geoff was nice enough to give me my old job back. Ohmygod, I watched every one of your shows! Is Damian as hot in person as he is on TV?”

  The happy reunion turned cold as Jaden felt a rush of bad vibes sweep through her at the mention of Damian’s name. “Ahh…” she managed as she struggled to recover.

  “I hear he has his own show now,” Susan continued. “God, I can’t wait to see it.” She looked up for Jaden’s response and seemed to misinterpret the look on her face as insult. “But I bet it’s nowhere near as good as your show!”

  “Ha! Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?” Jaden said with a weak smile, turning one of her earrings between her fingers.

  “So what’s good? What do you recommend?” Tasha interjected.

  Jaden took the opportunity to sit.

  “Everything!” Susan blurted as she began to prattle on about the new menu. “Your tuna is the only thing Geoff kept from the old menu…”

  Jaden turned to listen to Susan, but she didn’t hear her. Her mind had wandered back to the day she’d returned home from dotting Damian’s eye with her fist. A plain brown package had nestled amongst her accumulated mail, and its Miami Beach return address had piqued her interest, though she should have known better. Nevertheless, she’d torn open the package and emptied its contents onto her kitchen counter. And at that point her heart sank even lower. She’d found a red box with a red bow and a card addressed to Baby Girl. Unease had bubbled in her stomach, and she’d debated just throwing everything away. Clearly the gift wasn’t meant for her now.

  But she’d known in an instant she couldn’t do it. She could never discard something Ivan had sent her. She’d reached for the box and pried it open. Opal earrings, and around each opal were four flippers and a tiny head. Tears had come to her eyes and, torturing herself, she’d picked up the white envelope and opened it with an unsteady finger. When the trembling subsided, she removed the card and began to read:

  Jaden,

  My life is forever changed by the grace you’ve instilled in it. Just as I feel you’ve completed me, I want to complete a collection I started some time ago. I hope you enjoy these sea turtle earrings! Love is beautiful and so are you. A life without you is a life without purpose. You’re the happy ending in my book of purpose, fantasy, and hope.

  ~Ivan

  She’d wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sunk to the floor. It had been hours before she could move.

  “So what will it be, Jaden?”

  Susan’s words cut through her daydream and brought her back to Miami Beach, but she realized part of her was still crushed on her L.A. kitchen floor. She’d had no idea what to do with those earrings, and since then she’d had little idea what to do with herself.

  “Ahhh…Surprise me!” she declared, as cheerfully as she could, ignoring the pang of guilt in her stomach.

  Susan looked as if she might say something, but just nodded and turned from the table. Jaden watched as she wound a sure path through the dining room. Once she’d disappeared through the swinging door, Jaden let the tired smile slip from her face and took a ragged breath.

  “What was it this time?” Tasha asked.

  “Hmm?” Jaden looked back at her friend.

  “You’re pitiful,” Tasha said with a sigh as she handed Jaden her linen napkin. “And your mascara is beginning to run.”

  Jaden took the napkin and dabbed at her eyes.

  “What triggered the tears this time?”

  Jaden shrugged, sniffed, and adjusted her posture.

  “Is it just being here at Bianca? Geoff? The mention of your famous tuna? Is there some big, secret memory lingering under one of these tables that I don’t know about?”

  “Very funny,” Jaden said with a sad smile.

  “I told you we should go somewhere else—”

  “It’s fine. I wanted to come here.”

  “So what was it?”

  Jaden reached touched her earring. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing. Really?” Tasha crossed her arms and leaned in.

  “Okay, it’s everything,” Jaden confessed. “My relationship with Ivan started in this very spot, in the kitchen of Bianca. And I’ll be damned if I let it slip away without a fight!” She looked down as a new wave of tears threatened. “God, Tasha, you’d think I’d have cried all the tears of a lifetime in the past six months, but nope. Just when I think I’ve got a grip and can venture out in public, they spring up to remind me how fucked up all this is. When is it going to get better?”

  “You want the sympathetic best friend answer or straight-up truth?”

  “Can’t I have both?”

  “They’re pretty much the same. The only real difference is in the delivery.”

  “Straight up.”

  Tasha cocked her head. “Reaaally?”

  Jaden took a sip of her water and gave Tasha the all clear.

  “It’ll get better when you get off the pity party speed train you’ve been riding for six months and fucking forgive yourself,” she said. “You call him every week, text him how many times a day? How many emails, Jaden? And what do they all say? I’m sorry! I’m an awful person! Please talk to me! Please give me another chance! You’re stuck between begging him and punishing yourself, and that’s enough. You screwed up, big time. You lied, you kept secrets, and now six months later you’re still surprised he’s not ready to deal with the needy girl who just wants him to call her back?”

  “I—Jesus, Tasha.”

  “I’m fucking serious, Jaden. If you can’t forgive yourself then how in the hell can you expect him to forgive you?”

  Jaden focused on straightening the silverware at her place.

  “That’s where you start, at least,” Tasha continued, her voice softer now. She reached for Jaden’s hand. “Forgive yourself and get your shit together. Because, honey, you may look great on the outside—maybe a little too thin and you could use a good conditioner on that hair—but you’re a lost little girl on the inside waiting for a man to make you whole again. I need you to please remember who the hell you are! You are Jaden fucking Thorne, and this mopey, weepy bullshit is played out.”

  Jaden ventured a look at her friend.

  “I wouldn’t forgive you if every time you called me you were a puddle of sorrow and wah-fucking-wah!” Tasha added dramatically, releasing Jaden’s hand.

  She managed a laugh and began to shake her head.

  “I’m serious. You’re fucking annoying, and this is me being supportive.” Tasha finished with a flourish.

  “Wow. How did I get so lucky?” Jaden deadpanned.

  “It’s called tough love, sister.” Tasha winked. “Get your groove back, your mojo, your moxie—whatever you want to call it. Let’s not forget Ivan’s part in this, eh? He wasn’t exactly Captain Communication there for a while, and—not that it excuses your behavior—but this didn’t happen in a vacuum. Climb down off the cross and find some way to forgive yourself, and then maybe you’ll be able to do what you need to do next.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m not some common fortune teller, Jaden. I don’t have a clue what’s next. But I imagine it’s the equivalent to putting away the comfy clothes, ice cream, and sappy play lists and pulling out the Manolo’s—”

  Jaden cleared her throat and kicked Tasha under the table with her Manolo.

  “Ow! I’m talking metaphorically, girl.”

  Jaden laughed and rolled her eyes.<
br />
  “All I’m saying is that you can’t keep doing what you’re doing and expect a different response. This approach hasn’t worked, so you fix you, and then maybe you’ll have the opportunity to fix this mess with him.”

  “I love you, Tasha.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Why didn’t you let me have that months ago?” Jaden asked as she took a deep, cleansing breath and put her napkin in her lap.

  “Because you wouldn’t have heard me, and I’d have had to admit you to some rehab place for exhaustion and dehydration or whatever tired celebrities check into rehab for these days. I didn’t want to push you over the edge.”

  Jaden sighed again, and the two erupted with laughter just as Susan delivered their first course.

  Chapter 10

  “When Worlds Collide”

  “I’LL TAKE A LARGE ICED COFFEE—black with no sugar, please—and a packet of almonds.” Ivan gave his order to the petite, freckle-faced redhead behind the counter. It was his standard request to satisfy his daily Starbucks obsession, but the cute barista’s smile didn’t hurt either. Her sparkling eyes probably gave him more of a jolt than the coffee would anyway. He’d consumed thousands of gallons of the stuff during medical school, and his body had become mostly immune to its effects.

  As a growing group of groggy patrons lined up for their caffeine hit, he moved aside to wait for his order, shuffled the songs on his iPhone, and readjusted the collar of his too-tight dress shirt as he looked around. Beads of sweat had already begun to form on his forehead, and he cursed himself for not wearing something cooler. At the height of the tourist season, the place was crawling with several typical Miami Beach species. A group of Overcompensatauruses sat at a table just outside the glass window, dressed in cut-up bright tank tops drenched with fresh sweat. This particular species was known for trying to attract any passersby to their weekend-warrior bodies. A couple Ineedfreewifiotops sat in the corner and lounged on the sofa as their hands moved over their laptops. Also scattered here and there throughout the coffee house were the Iamtooimportantapuses, who radiated their self-worth for all to see.

  But what finally caught his attention were a stunning pair of legs belonging to a rare and beautiful creature: the Comeandlickmypus. This species appeared to be prissy, uptight debutantes, but it’s a little-known fact that in certain circles they were among the most adventurous nymphomaniacs the world has ever known. This was the type of gorgeous, uptight bitch that most other girls wanted to knock the hell out of. They were the ultimate creature with Grade-A reputations, able to consume a man in one swallow. No male would ever be the same after bedding a Comeandlickmypus. Ivan knew this firsthand. It was this exact species that most effectively fed his addiction.

  The Comeandlickmypus looked up from her magazine and caught him staring at her from across the room. But neither broke eye contact. Interesting.

  After a moment Ivan dragged his eyes away. Attempting to silence the freak’s voice, he adjusted his ear buds and turned his attention back to his oversized cup of caffeine, which was now being mixed with ice. He prayed the growing bulge in his pants wasn’t noticeable.

  “Here you go, sir,” the cute barista said as she handed him his order. “Have a great day!”

  “Thanks.” He nodded and turned toward the condiment station. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of the beautiful creature with her eyes still locked on him. Her intense gaze burned his skin and coaxed the freak closer to the surface. Yes! It roared in delight.

  Ivan did his best to ignore the voice and the temptation staring at him from across the room. He busied himself with prepping his coffee: four Splendas and a splash of skim milk. But just as he started toward the door, his phone pinged an alert, interrupting his music and his exit. He stopped at a nearby table and sat down to scroll through the text messages and emails that had accumulated since he’d left home. Business, work, business, work…it never stopped.

  Bringing the iced coffee to his lips for another sip, he found the same pair of aqua blue eyes boring into him. The Comeandlickmypus wore heavy, black-framed glasses, but they only served as an enhancement to her stunning eyes. Smiling, he nodded to the brown-haired woman who he guessed to be in her mid to late thirties, though she didn’t look a day over twenty-five. Her gray business suit and white blouse screamed power and professionalism, but it also hinted at secret sexual desire.

  Do it! Louder and louder the freak cried to be set free, and Ivan became weaker and weaker with each passing glimpse and casual smile. He sipped his coffee and focused on his phone, trying to fight back his urges and silence the freak’s voice. But when the last of his beverage was gone, he was left with a decision to make. He could murmur a string of curse words as he made his way to the exit, or he could man up.

  Fuck it! Let’s play this one out, he decided as he stood up from the table. A sly smirk played at the corner of his lips and his eyes danced across the crowd, over to the bathrooms, and back to the leggy Comeandlickmypus who he found watching his every movement. She nodded slightly, acknowledging his gesture.

  Game over. Ivan took the ear buds out of his ears and wound the cord around his phone before slipping it into his pocket. Then he headed to the bathroom at the back of the coffee house. The freak roared its approval with every step he took—this would be his most daring conquest yet, and Ivan could feel his control slipping away as the alter ego took over. He took a path that led him past her table, and felt her hot stare. A curl at the corner of his mouth confirmed what her eyes were saying. They were both in for one hell of a ride.

  He entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him, but left it unlocked. In two long strides, he crossed the tiled floor, stood in front of the mirror, and splayed his hands across the cold granite counter. But when he looked in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was unfamiliar. It was the face of the freak. Anticipation coursed through his body, and he wondered if she would join him or reject him. He wanted her to follow him in. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know who she was—or that she might know who he was. He’d grown more and more reckless since the day his addiction took hold.

  You’ll thank me later. The freak rejoiced when the door clicked open and the sound of high heels clacking against the floor reverberated through the space, seeming impossibly loud. As he heard the lock slide into place, Ivan broke the stare he’d held with the desperate man in the mirror and allowed himself a glance at the woman behind him. His heart beat rapidly as his body readied for the feast of which he was about to partake.

  Wordlessly, she approached him, sliding her hands under the back of his suit jacket. With her jet black stilettos, there was no need to stand on her tiptoes for her mouth to reach his ear. The tip of her tongue snaked out from between glossy lips and traced the curve of his ear, sending ripples of anticipation through his already aroused body. As her hands came to rest on his chest, he turned toward her and tilted his head, exposing his neck. He shuddered as her hands ran down his stomach and came to rest on the bulge that strained against his pants. She stroked him over the fabric and let out a warm gasp against the nape of his neck. He loved that she took control.

  Her hands moved to his waist and she hooked fingers through the belt loops on his pants. With slow and deliberate movements, she slid down the length of his body. Then she was on her knees in front of him. Her eyes—half lidded and full of need now—looked up at him through the naughty-librarian glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and she smiled as she managed his zipper. When the warmth of her lips surrounded his cock, Ivan thrust forward, driving himself into the back of her throat. Undaunted, she took him even deeper into her mouth. She released him just enough to tongue the sensitive spot beneath the head of his cock before taking in every inch of him again and again and again, each time deeper than the last. Harder and faster she worked him, and she didn’t object when he grabbed her hair and forced his cock deeper inside her mouth.

  Fuck yes! Before he lost all focus, Ivan glanced
back at the mirror and watched as the unfamiliar reflection mouth-fucked this beautiful brown-haired woman without regard. Then the ringing of his phone diverted his attention away from the show. The sound of Frank Sinatra and the screen, which read AVOID, told a tale of heartbreak starring him as the main character. He hadn’t been able to delete her phone number, but he had changed the name associated with it to remind him that he needed to avoid her at all costs. The ringtone, however, remained the same. He couldn’t even bring himself to change that.

  Avoid! his mind yelled, yet his heart fluttered as the ringtone continued to play. Meanwhile the freak, oblivious to the phone, begged for more. More!

  Ivan’s hands dropped to his sides and his head fell back against the wall, his eyes cinched shut. When Frank finally stopped singing and the call went to voicemail, Ivan opened his eyes and stared at the beige ceiling above him. What have I become? This wasn’t how he treated people, and it wasn’t how he treated himself. This unexpected interruption—the one-two punch of Frank and AVOID, along with an enormous wave of remorse—suppressed the beast that had possessed him for so long, and for an all too brief moment, Ivan felt like his old self. When he turned back to the mirror and noted a hint of familiarity in the face of the person staring back at him, he knew he’d hit rock bottom.

  He looked down at the woman, still on her knees in front of him, and suddenly the sight repulsed him. He couldn’t take it any more. He couldn’t move quickly enough as he pulled his dick from her mouth. She looked up, her face full of confusion.

  Ivan scrambled for an excuse to forfeit the situation gracefully, as if that were even possible, and stuttered his lame explanation. “I shouldn’t have…I don’t usually…”

  “Shame,” she said as she stood and nonchalantly stepped up to the mirror. “Wife?” she asked as she reapplied her lip gloss and smoothed her hair.

  “No.” He pulled his pants up, still as hard as a rock, and zipped.

  “Maybe next time, hmmm?”

  With a quick backward glance over his shoulder, Ivan uttered the only thing that came to mind. “Never say never.”