“There’s plenty of notepads,” she said mildly.
“Yes, but I didn’t want to disturb your sketches. Particularly not this one.” He held up the notepad closest to her computer and she winced. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Naomi, this is the perfect logo for my whiskey. I thought you weren’t working on it.”
“I’m not.”
He shook the paper at her like she was a puppy who’d done something naughty. “Then what is this?”
“I just jotted it down while I was thinking about something else.”
“Can I pay you for it?”
She reached out and snatched the notepad out of his grasp. “No. It’s proprietary.”
“Which means what?”
“Which means you’re not taking my sketch and getting some hack to brand it up for you.”
“Then why won’t you do it?”
“Because I don’t work for people I’m sleeping with. It’s bad business.” She tore off the top sheet and folded it carefully.
He sighed. “Fine. I’m too hungry to argue about it. Want to go out to dinner?”
She opened her mouth to say yes, then froze. What was she doing? Spending the entire day with him? Hanging out at home, working side-by-side, having dinner together? This was starting to feel like a relationship. And Naomi didn’t do relationships.
Relationships turned men into bizarre, greedy animals who demanded that you give up all of your time and energy for them. Just look at her parents and her brother and his wife. Both her mother and her sister-in-law had completely subsumed their own lives into their husbands’. Now, they spent all of their time supporting the ambitions of the men in their lives, with nothing of their own to show for it. Like hell was Naomi going to turn into some kind of Stepford Wife.
“I can’t,” she said. “Sorry.”
He frowned. “But—”
“You should probably go,” she added quickly. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, and you probably have some more calls and meetings.”
“Actually—”
“I’ll see you around.” She pasted on a smile and led the way to the door before he could get a word in edgewise. “Here you go.” She opened the door and held a hand out like she was a game show hostess demonstrating a prize.
“Er… thanks.” He stepped over the threshold, then turned back to her. “Naomi, I—”
“Bye!” She shut the door in his face. Then she leaned against it and put her hand to her forehead. What a narrow escape.
10
“There is nothing out there.” Iain groaned and shoved a taco into his mouth, savoring the succulent pork. Max was testing out a new recipe. As far as Iain was concerned, his new friend had outdone himself.
Noah set a bucket of beer on the table, and Angelica grabbed one of the bottles and twisted the top off. “How much are you looking to spend?” Noah asked, settling in next to his girlfriend on the leather bench.
Iain wiped his mouth. “I’m looking to keep it under two thousand a month, but I’m starting to think that’s not enough.”
Angelica took a long drink. “No wonder you can’t find a place. That’s chump change around here, Iain.”
“It’s not the money, not really. It’s mostly that I can’t commit to signing a long lease. And every landlord I’ve talked to wants first and last month’s rent. Meanwhile, that’s literally all I need. I might have to stay at Oakwell after all.”
“You still looking for a place to stay?” Max asked, setting down a plate of pickled radishes and jalapeños and sliding into the booth next to him.
Iain nodded and spun his beer bottle within the ring of condensation that had accumulated on the table in front of him. “It’s brutal out there, man.”
“The people who owned my place before me put in a studio apartment above the garage. It’s got a dorm fridge and hot plate, so the kitchen’s pretty much worthless, but it’s yours if you want it, however long you need it. You can pay me whatever you feel is fair.”
That was the best news he’d heard all day. Not that it was too hard to earn that distinction—from the time he’d woken up, his day had been filled with one bit of bad news after the next. Before he’d made his way down to Frankie’s, a graphic artist he’d been about to hire had let him know she could no longer work with him since she’d just taken a contract with another distiller. Personally, Iain didn’t consider them competition—they made flavored vodkas, of all things—but their head of marketing definitely considered anyone with the last name of Brennan his competition, so now Iain was back to square one on that front too. If Max was willing to let him crash above his garage for the next two months, he’d take it.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course. I only put my gym equipment up there because I felt like the space was going to waste and I felt guilty.” Max shrugged. “Which reminds me—if you’re going to move in, I’ll need your help moving my gym equipment into the garage. And it could probably use a deep clean.” He scratched his chin. “And some towels and bed linens. Pretty much everything, to be honest.”
Angelica bounced in her seat and clapped her hands. “Ooh, can I help?”
Noah barked out an emphatic “No,” while at the same time Iain exclaimed “Yes!”
Noah shot him an exasperated look. “Dude, no. She’s only home for four weeks before she starts filming again in fuck knows where, and I intend to keep her busy for all of them.”
Angelica bumped Noah’s shoulder with her own. “It’s Portland. And you’re a pig.”
“That’s not what you said last night.” Noah waggled his eyebrows, before inhaling the rest of his taco in one bite.
She rolled her eyes and slapped her palms down onto the wooden tabletop. “Anyhow …” she said pointedly, “I would love to help. I was planning to do a Tar-jay run on Friday morning. Need to refill a few essentials for the inn.”
“Tar-jay?”
“Sorry, I mean Target—only the best, most amazing store in all of Christendom. My personal philosophy is if you can’t find it there, it doesn’t exist.” Her eyes took on a dreamy cast.
“Sounds expensive.” Iain wasn’t cheap, but he didn’t think forking over a ton of cash to kit out a temporary home was the wisest decision. He’d already spent way too much staying at Angelica’s bed and breakfast, though it had been nice having daily maid service.
“That’s the great thing about Target. It’s not expensive—”
“Says the woman who regularly spends two hundred dollars when she goes there for ’just one thing.’” Noah raised a sardonic eyebrow at her.
Angelica chuckled. “Guilty as charged. That’s the downside of Target—you go in with a small list, but then walk out with an overflowing cart full of stuff you never even knew you wanted.”
While that might be true for Angelica, Iain doubted he’d suffer the same problem since he’d never had any difficulty before sticking to a to-do list … or a budget. Quickly, he went over his schedule for the week. He had a couple of meetings with restaurant owners in Napa on Monday, and Oakland and Berkeley on Tuesday. And apparently he’d need to help Max move his gym equipment downstairs by Wednesday, so he could hopefully get a cleaner in on Thursday. As it turned out, Friday worked perfectly. “Okay, count me in.”
“Traitor,” Noah whispered, downing the remainder of his beer.
“Knock, knock.” Angelica popped her head through Iain’s open doorway. “You ready, Freddie?”
“Yup.” He slid his phone into the front pocket of his jeans and palmed his keys on the way out. “I’m warning you though. I hate shopping.”
Angelica gave him a quick once over as they walked down a manicured path toward the gravel-lined parking lot at the side of the inn. “I figured as much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, climbing into the passenger seat of her BMW.
“You’ve been here a month, and I’ve seen you wear two things—a black suit and this ensemb
le.” She flicked her fingers toward him, then started the engine of her car.
Iain glanced down. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” He had on black boots, black jeans, a gray thermal henley, and a black leather jacket. His nods to accessorizing were a black and gray herringbone pattern flat cap, a black scarf, and his watch. He thought he looked damn good, even if he did say so himself. His look was spartan, but it worked for him. He was a bit miffed Angelica didn’t appreciate it.
“Not a thing.” She looked both ways and then pulled out into traffic. “But you have to admit, it’s not very creative.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed with a chuckle. He didn’t have time to say anything more in defense of his clothes, because she reached out, turned the volume up on the radio, and began singing along with the lyrics at the top of her lungs. The songs were familiar, and her good mood was unmistakable. Now and then, she’d toss him a happy, carefree look. It was so infectious that by the time they turned off the highway and into the suburban shopping center, he was singing too. No wonder Noah was captivated.
“I give you Mecca,” she said with mock reverence as she pulled her car into a parking spot and then jumped out to wave grandiosely at the red-topped building in front of them.
Iain unfastened the belt at his thigh and slid out of his seat, taking a quick glance around. With no small amount of horror, he realized there were maybe four hundred other cars in the parking lot with them. A complete disinterest in fashion wasn’t the only thing that usually kept him from shopping trips. He wondered if he could bribe Angelica to shop for him while he waited in the car and caught up on his email on his phone.
Apparently, he’d inadvertently telegraphed his intent.
Angelica took one look at him and shook her head. Looping her arm through his, she tugged him forward. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re coming with me, mister.”
Half an hour later, he could almost admit he’d been hasty in wanting to skip out on the shopping trip when they’d first arrived. That was, until a kid still wearing his bed clothes came tearing around a corner screaming something about Transformers, his frazzled mom chasing after him with an infant strapped to her front. Iain shuddered as he watched her take off down an aisle calling after her wayward son.
“Not a fan of kids?” Angelica asked, wheeling her nearly-full cart alongside his mostly empty one.
Iain debated how best to answer. It was his experience that women of a certain age had a tendency to be mad for babies, and when they encountered a man who wasn’t, they tried their damnedest to convince him otherwise. Even his sister—the most logical and reasonable woman he knew … not to mention entirely single and nowhere near having kids herself—had accused him of being full of shit when he’d told her he didn’t see himself settling down and starting a family anytime soon. If ever.
“Kids are grand, but …”
“But you don’t want any of your own.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement of fact.
“I’m still on the fence about it.” Although he was leaning pretty strongly toward the ’nope’ side.
Angelica nodded. “I always just assumed I’d have a family one day, but ’one day’ always seemed like it was in the far-off future. And then I met Noah, and he wants like a whole fucking gaggle of them, so …” She looked back over her shoulder toward where the woman and her kids had disappeared. “But I’m pretty sure I won’t be bringing any of them with me to Target. This is my sacred space.”
Iain laughed and added a box of instant noodles to his cart. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he was quickly coming to love Target nearly as much as Angelica did. He also wouldn’t say aloud how much he liked her. She was forthright and refreshing, and she didn’t take herself too seriously. In fact, the whole group of friends he’d somehow stumbled into in River Hill all seemed to be generally laid back and easy going. They were a far cry from the boisterous friends he’d left back in Ireland. Hanging out with them these last few weeks had made his time in California more enjoyable than it would have been otherwise.
Them, and a particular female sculptor he hadn’t heard from in a handful of days.
After the odd way Naomi had booted him out of her house, he’d backed off and given her space. He thought they’d had a really great afternoon together, but now he wondered if maybe he’d misread the signals. The sex had been fantastic—again—but she’d still sent him packing. Iain liked Naomi—probably more than he should—but he wasn’t going to beg her to like him back. If she wanted nothing to do with him, so be it.
Except …
“I was wondering—” he stopped his cart in front of a display of brightly-colored towels and studied them more attentively than they deserved “—do you know Noah’s friend Naomi Klein?”
Angelica stopped next to him, and when she turned to face him, he was startled to find her easy-going charm had been replaced by a sharp-edged intensity. “Why? What have you heard?”
Shit. That wasn’t good. Maybe there was some bad blood between the two women he wasn’t aware of. But if so, why would Noah have recommended Naomi to him in the first place? He could be surly at times, but the man wasn’t blind or stupid. And he very obviously loved Angelica. Disgustingly so, Iain sometimes thought. And yet, her sharp response just now suggested there was definitely something there.
“I’m sorry. Forget I asked.”
“No, I want to know. What have people been telling you?”
Wait, what? “Nothing, I swear. I was looking for a graphic designer when I first got here and Noah introduced us. She and I …” He tunneled his hand through his hair and slid it to the back of his neck, which he could feel growing damp with discomfort. He wasn’t one to kiss-and-tell, but he felt like he had to say something since Angelica had obviously gotten the wrong idea. “I like her, but she runs hot and cold, and I was just wondering if you had any insight into why.” He shook his head and took a step back, his hands held out in front of him, palms out. “But like I said, forget I asked.”
Angelica let out a deep sigh. “Sorry for the overreaction. It’s just that River Hill is a small town, with some small-minded people. Some who enjoy reminding me that Noah and Naomi have known each other a really long time. And I get really tired of them trying to tell everyone else about it, too. Like, we know.”
Iain let out his own sigh of relief and felt his shoulders relaxing. He’d been worried there for a second. “He mentioned something about that when he gave me her card, which is why I figured I could ask your advice.”
Angelica’s brows drew down. “When I say they’ve ’known each other,’ I mean in the biblical sense … if you get my drift.” She rolled her eyes. “Their parents thought they’d get married someday.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry I asked. Let’s pretend I didn’t.”
She shook her head, but her eyes remained guarded. “No, it’s okay. The thing is, I adore Naomi. She’s nice and funny, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. I can appreciate that about her. She and Noah are really great friends, and I’m definitely not the kind of woman who tells her boyfriend he has to stop talking to someone who’s been in his life forever just because they used to have sex. I mean, I don’t love that she knows what his dick looks like, and I get tired of hearing about it from other people, but I trust him. And I trust her too, if that makes any difference in what you were going to ask.”
“That’s very …” He trailed off, at a loss for words. He couldn’t imagine how he’d react if put in a similar situation. Although, he kind of was now, wasn’t he? He wasn’t a permanent fixture in River Hill like Angelica was, but he did consider Noah a friend. Hearing that his friend and the woman he wanted to spend the next two months with had once been fuck buddies … well, he wasn’t particularly thrilled.
From the beginning, he’d known Naomi didn’t view sex the way most women he knew did. And Angelica was right—Naomi didn’t take shit from anyone. He liked th
at about her. In truth, he liked so many things about her.
But now he wondered if this new-found knowledge would be at the back of his mind the next time they were together. Assuming, of course, there was a next time. Going by recent events, he wasn’t really sure.
Angelica laid a hand on his bicep. “I won’t pry, but I will say this: Naomi is a really good person, and I consider her a friend. But she’s also super gun-shy about relationships. Noah’s told me about it, and she has, too. If you’re serious about her, you should probably go in with your eyes wide open. She’s not the type of person who makes promises of forever.”
Iain swallowed. That should have been music to his ears, but it wasn’t. For some strange reason, Angelica’s words settled in the pit of his belly like sludge. He didn’t understand why, so he pushed that feeling aside. “If that’s the case, it’s probably good that I’ll be gone in two months, then.”
She pulled her hand away and peered at him, one eyebrow raised in speculation. Eventually, she nodded once. “Yeah, it probably is.”
11
“Stop fidgeting, Naomi.” Her mother’s commanding tone made Naomi realize she’d been tugging at the hem of her dress.
“Sorry.” She clasped her hands together in front of her like a child in a school picture.
“Don’t do that either, it makes your bosom cave in.”
“Thanks, Mom.” She sighed.
“You’re not here to mope, darling. You’re here to be charming and remind the Board that they’re lucky to have a man as talented as your father as a candidate.”
“How could I possibly remind them any more than you’re already doing?”
“By standing there and being single,” her mother said sweetly.
Tanya, standing next to Naomi, choked on her champagne as she stifled a laugh.
Naomi gave her sister-in-law her best evil eye. “You want to say something?”
The Distiller's Darling (River Hill Book 2) Page 7
