“Hey there, Piper. How are you?” Bridget’s voice was cheerful and friendly. Piper pegged her as one of those people you couldn’t help but be at least a tiny bit happy around. “Is that rain ever going to stop?”
Piper turned to her, brow furrowed. “I’m starting to wonder.”
“Can I get you something?”
“Yes, I’ll have a glass of the Chateau le Prince Bordeaux, please.”
Bridget grimaced. “We’re not carrying that one anymore,” she said, apology in her voice.
“Since when?”
“Last week?” When Piper didn’t respond, Bridget said, “We have a California Cabernet that we’re offering instead. I think you’ll like it. It’s got very similar notes to it.” She bit down on her bottom lip and Piper realized she was nervous.
“Fine,” she said with a slightly annoyed wave of her hand, which she then pointed at the wall. “When did this happen?”
Bridget followed her gesture. “The wall? Oh, Lindsay did that over the weekend. Doesn’t it look great? Really brightens up the place.” She took a bottle down and went to work with her wine key. “Fresh bottle for you,” she said, with an uncertain smile.
“Is Lindsay here?”
“No, she ran home to feed her dog. She’ll be back.” A quick glance at the clock on the wall had her adding, “Any time now.”
The cork released with a pop and the gentleman sitting two stools down commented, “I love that sound,” with a smile.
Piper nodded and gave him a smile in return.
A tall, reed-thin woman approached the bar and stood next to Piper. “Hey, Bridget, can we get another bottle when you get a sec?”
Bridget looked over her shoulder at the customer. “Of the Stuffed Elephant?”
“Yeah, the one you recommended. It’s amazing.”
Bridget nodded. “You got it.”
“I’m going to have to try that one next time,” the man said.
“It’s fairly new for us, but it’s been going over really well. Lindsay’s right; people love the blends.” She slid Piper’s wine in front of her. “Anything else? Want some cheese with that?”
Piper shook her head. “No. Thanks. I’m good.”
The gentleman held up his nearly empty glass. “Cheers.”
She smiled and lifted her own, then sipped.
“Bridget, I’m all set when you get a minute,” he said.
“You got it, Mr. R.” Bridget pulled out a tablet and touched the screen a few times, and that was the first time Piper had noticed the cash register was gone.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing.
“This? It’s a tablet. It’s how we do our transactions. Your mom loves it.” Bridget smiled and handed the tablet to the gentleman, who signed with his finger.
“When did she make that change?”
Bridget shrugged. “I don’t know…Two months ago? Three? It was Lindsay’s idea. Makes things a lot easier on the waitstaff, and the app is super easy to use.” She set the tablet down on the back counter. “Take it easy, Mr. R. See you Wednesday.” Then she disappeared into the back.
Mr. R. donned his gray trench coat. “Time to brave the elements,” he said. With a tip of his head, he bid Piper good night. He held the door open for Lindsay, who shook herself as she entered.
“Thanks, Mr. R. Catch you Wednesday?”
“Of course.”
Lindsay turned her head and met Piper’s gaze. Did her friendly smile falter just a bit? Piper wondered if she imagined it.
She crossed the floor, and Piper took her in as Lindsay shed her coat and carried it behind the bar with her. Dark jeans, a white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, several silver bangle bracelets jingling softly on her left wrist. Decidedly un-hippie-like, though Piper chose to ignore that. Lindsay’s hair was tousled and a little wet, and she tucked a chunk behind her ear as she disappeared in the back, presumably to hang up her coat. She was back quickly.
“What are you having?” she asked Piper, indicating her glass.
“Not the Bordeaux I wanted.”
Lindsay wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. That one is really pricey. Wasn’t selling. Did Bridget give you the Cab instead?”
Piper nodded.
“And?”
“It’s not bad.”
One corner of Lindsay’s mouth lifted slightly. “Not bad is good. I’ll take not bad.”
Without looking, Piper jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “You painted.” She tried hard not to sound like a scolding parent, but wasn’t sure she succeeded.
“I did. Like it?”
Piper opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Lindsay continued.
“I think it makes it look both brighter in here and bigger. If the sun ever comes out again, it’ll be even more obvious. Not that the majority of our customers are in here during the daytime, but you know what I mean. That wood sucked up a ton of paint, too. Took me three coats. I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever be finished.” Her laugh was a bit shaky, like she was nervous. Piper wasn’t sure if she was glad or sympathetic about that.
“Maybe you can run something like that by me next time.” Piper had meant it to be a question, not an order, but again: failure.
“I didn’t use money from the business account. I used my own.” The nerves were suddenly gone from Lindsay’s voice, Piper noticed. It had a very slight edge to it.
“Okay. Still. It’s a change, and I’d like to be apprised.”
“Fine.”
Their gazes held for a beat. Two beats. Three.
“Hey, I left a couple messages for you in the office,” Bridget said, obviously sensing the tension and wanting to alleviate it.
Lindsay nodded, her eyes still on Piper’s. “Okay. Thanks.” Then she looked away.
Piper picked up her wine and drained it, wanting to chalk that up as a win, but somehow, it felt hollow. As Lindsay went into the back, Piper mentally shook herself. That exchange had left her uncertain and weirdly confused. About what, she had no idea, and that confused her more. She pulled a twenty from her wallet and placed it on the bar under her glass, then left without a word.
* * *
“There is no way I’m running every single thing I want to do here by her,” Lindsay said quietly in the back office.
“Why are you trying to pace in here?” Bridget asked. “It’s, like, six feet total.”
Lindsay stopped. “Can you believe her? I’ve worked here for three years and I’ve laid eyes on her, like, three times. Now? Twice in a week.”
“She’s got some control issues, it would seem.”
Lindsay scoffed. “You think?”
Bridget peeked out through the two doorways, a straight shot to the bar. “She’s gone. You can relax now.”
“Not the Bordeaux I wanted,” Lindsay mimicked in a whiny voice.
Bridget listened, but made no comment.
“Mrs. B. and I are going to have a conversation next time she checks in.”
Bridget shook her head with a sigh. “I don’t understand you two.” Then she left to take care of customers.
Lindsay blew out a breath of frustration. Was this how it was going to be now? Mrs. B. had given her free rein, but not really? “Hey, Linds, go ahead. Implement those changes you’ve been driving me mad with. Experiment. Knock yourself out. Oh, by the way, here’s my daughter the pit bull. Good luck doing anything she doesn’t want you to.”
Seeing Piper on that stool when she’d walked in had been a shock. Mostly because the first thing Lindsay had seen was a pair of legs. Toned and shapely legs, gorgeous legs, crossed at the knee, the one on top bouncing gently, black high heel dangling from the toes of one foot. Her eyes had followed them up to the black skirt, then an emerald green top, then the obviously amused face of one Piper Bradshaw, all dark waves of hair and mysterious eyes. Realizing who it was sent Lindsay’s joy at looking right out the window.
“Okay. Take a minute,” she whispered to herself. “Just take a minute
.” She stood still in the middle of Mrs. B.’s office—which she was trying not to think of as hers, but sometimes did—and counted slowly to ten. Once she finished, she felt better. It was a little trick her college roommate, Angela, had taught her so many years ago when Lindsay would let things get to her. Just breathe, she’d say. Just take a moment and breathe. Focus on the in and then the out. You’ll calm right down. She’d been right, and the exercise had served Lindsay well throughout her life.
Making a mental note to give Angela a call this week, Lindsay exited the office and went out into the wine bar. Only three patrons remained, and she sent Bridget home, then put her elbows on the bar and scrutinized the interior of Vineyard, her brain whirring with ideas.
Chapter Seven
“Hear that, Rocket?” Lindsay asked her dog in a voice just above a whisper. The yellow Lab sat at her feet, ears pricked, and cocked his head.
“I don’t hear a thing, Mom.”
“Exactly. The silence of nature.” She took a deep breath of fresh, woodsy air. “Isn’t it awesome?” With a reach down and a flick of her wrist, Rocket was off his leash and bounding through the trees. “Don’t get too far ahead of me,” Lindsay called, and as if he understood, the dog stopped and looked back. When Lindsay was about fifteen yards away, he bounded off again. She chuckled and shook her head.
This was her favorite. Her favorite time of day, her favorite hiking companion, her favorite place on the lake. She’d slacked lately, and she knew it. Rocket needed this. He was cooped up at home for long periods of time, but he was young and he needed the exercise.
The sun was just now coming up over the horizon, coloring the morning in a gorgeous haze of indigo and pink. Rocket broke through a copse of trees and headed down to the shore where he could slurp up water like he hadn’t had any in weeks, the sound seeming extra loud in such a peaceful space. Lindsay caught up to him and grinned at him as he splashed in the water, but only about ankle deep.
“Cold, huh, buddy?” Her gaze slid from her dog up to the vast expanse of Black Cherry Lake. She saw a lone kayak gliding silently through the water. It was bright green, but that was about all she could make out from this distance, the unidentifiable pilot stroking strong and sure as the kayak moved cleanly along. The paddle barely registered a splash at all as it cut into the water and pulled the kayak forward. Lindsay thought she could make out a ponytail on the paddler, but wasn’t sure; it was just far enough away. She stood there and watched for what felt like a long time, until the kayak had moved down the lake and she could hardly make it out any longer. “I’d like to try that some time, Rock. What do you think? Wanna?”
“You know I love the water, Mom.” Her dog looked at her with that adoring face, the one that said Lindsay was everything in the world to him, and she laughed out loud.
“If we can just find me a girl who looks at me like that, I’ll be all set. Get on that, will you, pal?” He ran ahead, began his forward-and-back, forward-and-back routine, and Lindsay followed him. “Don’t forget to look behind all the trees!” she called after him.
Her thoughts turned back to the idea of a girl. The idea of actually dating a girl. It might be time. Of course, if she asked Angela, time was long past and her lady parts were probably covered in cobwebs and dust from lack of use. (Yes, she’d actually said that.) It had been…God, how long had it been? Two years? Three, since she’d had an actual relationship? She’d dated on and off, of course. She was human, and a girl’s got needs. But nobody had…turned her crank (Angela again) in a very long time. And she’d been fine. When she met Mrs. B., she’d been a little lost, not sure where she was going or what she wanted. Kind of stuck. Mrs. B. was down an employee at Vineyard and was looking for someone part-time; Lindsay happened to walk in at just the right moment. To this day, she and Mrs. B. would laugh about it because Lindsay had very little knowledge of wine and Mrs. B. hired her on the spot. No references. No background. Nothing.
“There was just something about you,” Mrs. B. had said dozens of times. “I trusted you in an instant. The Universe was talking to me that day.”
Whether it was the Universe or God or just dumb luck, Lindsay had no idea, nor did she care. She’d found something to focus on and she’d thrown herself in, head first. Videos, books, classes. She’d read everything she could get her hands on about wine. Even before she was part of the tastings, she’d be sure to go in that day, even if she wasn’t scheduled, just so she could watch and listen and learn. And there’d been no turning back. While she’d never refer to it as a “calling,” Lindsay was certain she was right where she was supposed to be and doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing. There was a great comfort in that, not just because she knew not a lot of people experienced that in their jobs, ever, but because Lindsay herself finally felt like she belonged. She would be forever grateful.
Lindsay walked for another forty-five minutes through the woods and along the lakeshore. Luckily, she’d put Rocket back on his leash just moments before seeing a doe and her two fawns nibbling at the vegetation. The babies were so small, and Lindsay was able to stand still and watch for several moments before Rocket whined and scared them away.
“Oh, they were so pretty, huh?” she said to her dog, watching the display of grace as the deer leapt away in the trees.
“Pretty enough to eat, Mom.”
“No eating the deer, pal.”
The rest of the walk back was uneventful, Rocket refusing to keep any slack whatsoever in the leash, straining at the end of it the whole way. Once they broke through the edge of the trees to the parking lot, Lindsay was surprised to see the bright green kayak, still dripping, propped on top of a black Audi SUV. As she and Rocket passed by the back of the vehicle on the way to their own car, her eyes caught the bare feet of a woman sitting sideways in the driver’s seat, apparently just having taken off her shoes. Lindsay’s eyes followed up a pair of glorious legs until she saw the woman’s face and actually let out a little gasp.
Piper Bradshaw.
Piper looked up from the sock she was bunching in her hand and seemed just as surprised as Lindsay. “Hey,” she said.
“Hi.” Lindsay was so surprised to see her there that words left her completely. Rocket whined and strained, wanting to say hi to this new person, and finally, Lindsay found her voice, resigning herself to small talk with this woman she didn’t care to talk with. “So that was you I saw out there a little bit ago.” Her eyes roamed to the kayak on the roof.
“It was. I try to get on the water as often as I can.” Piper finished with her socks, tied on a pair of sneakers, and slid off the seat to walk toward Lindsay’s dog. His tail picked up speed and his body shook with the excitement of a dog who’d never seen people before. Piper squatted down and let him lavish her, yet another surprise for Lindsay. “Well, aren’t you a handsome guy?” she said quietly.
Lindsay had never seen Piper not in business attire. She wore skintight black pants—some kind of yoga or compression material—and a long-sleeve shirt made of the same material, just as snug and with hot pink accents on the arms. The outfit left little to Lindsay’s imagination, for which she was inexplicably thankful as she studied the curves and dips of Piper’s body: muscular thighs, small waist, rounded hips, generous breasts. And the hair. Lindsay couldn’t get over the hair. It was a simple ponytail, curling in almost a corkscrew from the elastic band to skim Piper’s shoulder blades. Many strands had escaped during her ride, and they also had some body to them, framing Piper’s face like ribbons on a package that had been curled with scissors. Business attire was gorgeous on Piper Bradshaw. Casual attire was just as attractive.
“What’s his name?” Piper asked as she looked up and met Lindsay’s gaze.
“My name is Rocket,” Lindsay said in her Rocket voice, before she could catch herself. When Piper quirked an eyebrow at her, Lindsay cleared her throat and used her own voice. “He’s three and he’s full of it.”
“You guys walk along the lake?”
“No worries.” Piper put her face right up to Rocket’s and was rewarded with many kisses.
Lindsay watched in disbelief, unable to reconcile the untouchable, put-together, management-type Piper she knew with this casual, kayaking, dog-kissing, down-to-earth woman squatting in a parking lot and loving her yellow Lab. It was kind of freaky. “What about you?” she finally managed, pushing the words out past her incredulity. “I didn’t know you kayaked.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
Was that flirty? Because that sure sounded flirty. “That’s very true.”
Piper stood. “Well. I guess I’d better get home. Get ready for work.” She looked down at Rocket, scratched his head. “It was nice to meet you, sir.”
Lindsay gave a small smile before heading to her own car. Not before she saw an amused grin cross Piper’s face, though. She was wiping down Rocket’s filthy paws with a towel as Piper drove out of the parking lot and headed home. Lindsay recalled how she’d done the Rocket voice before she could catch herself, sighed, and shrugged. “Oh, well,” she said to her dog. “If she didn’t find me unappealing before, she certainly does now. Glad to have solidified that for her. Thanks for your help, man.”
Rocket licked her face in response. “Anytime, Mom. I’m here for you.”
Back home, Lindsay had her phone propped up against a sugar bowl as she made herself some coffee and spoke to the screen. “Damn if she didn’t look amazing in those pants, though. Wow.”
Angela Jackson sipped her own coffee on Lindsay’s small screen. She was traveling for work and was on the West Coast for the week, still in her pajamas, the dark circles under her eyes visible even against her dark skin. “You always were a sucker for a girl in a suit,” she said, her voice gravelly.
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