by Emma Powell
‘It looks beautiful. I’m salivating.’
Rich bent to put the bottle in the wine cooler, which he had set down close to Laney. He leaned towards her. ‘Me too,’ he whispered, making her shudder. She was sure she felt him shudder too.
He stood up straight and smiled at them all. ‘In fact, the whole meal is on the house.’
‘Oh, you can’t do that,’ Laney exclaimed, as a blush spread across her face.
‘I’m the boss. I can do what I want. Consider it my birthday present to you,’ he laughed, pleased with himself.
‘I should’ve ordered the lobster!’ declared Ryan.
Nerida had already piled her side plate with salami, prosciutto, bread, olives and marinated artichoke hearts.
‘Buon appetito. Let me know if there’s anything else you need,’ Rich said with a bow of his head. Then he winked at Laney, turned and left.
Ryan pulled the antipasto platter away from Nerida so he and Laney could at least have some before it was all gone.
‘Okay, here’s what will happen.’ He filled his plate and looked across at Laney. ‘We’re going to eat, drink and be merry and then, shock horror, I’m going to get an emergency phone call from…someone…with terrible news of something terrible. Nerida and I will have to go IMMEDIATELY! Which will leave you here with the stud muffin and you can have the private tour and make love among the cab savs.’
‘I love it,’ Nerida pronounced, her mouth full of prosciutto, ‘you need some joy and penis in your life my friend.’
Before Laney could protest, Ryan and Nerida toasted the plan with pieces of salami, making the decision final.
The thought of being alone with Rich caused Laney joy and anxiety at the same time. She wanted to. She also knew that she was really vulnerable right now, which was probably THE the worst time to open up, figuratively and literally.
If her friends did abandon her, Laney resolved to be polite and do the tour with Rich and that was all. As much as she wanted him, she wasn’t about to let her libido get her into emotional hot water.
Rich
By mid-afternoon, the restaurant was down to half capacity as diners – full of charcuterie and chardonnay – paid their bills and wandered next door to the cellar door, where Rich hoped that in their food-dazed, happy place they would take home an Xroad Winery mixed dozen.
He’d enjoyed being on the floor again, watching how efficient and enthusiastic his staff were – except for the glass breakage and the burnt polenta, but there was always something that went wrong on a shift. A career in hospitality had taught him that. He also loved being face to face with his customers, to watch their joy as he placed their dishes in front of them and poured his wines into Schott Zwiesel Pure glasses. In the refurbishment, he’d insisted on the best glassware because a great glass made everything taste better. Not that his wines needed any help, of course.
When Rich had flagged the idea of a more affordable range, his father had baulked at the idea, arguing that it diminished the brand. Rich told him that all the big wineries were doing it, and that was enough for Papa De Luca. He never wanted to be left behind. So Xroads Xpress was Rich’s baby, and he was super proud and couldn’t wait for the launch in a few months’ time. He wondered if Laney would come if he asked.
He looked across at Laney whenever he had a spare moment, which was approximately every thirty seconds. At one point he noticed Dee watching him, watching Laney. She looked annoyed. He assumed it was because he wasn’t working hard enough. But he was the boss, damn it! Argh, who was he kidding – in the restaurant she was absolutely the boss. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Between Dee, Ben and Chef Russo, they had made this restaurant one of the top destinations in the Valley. Rich resolved to thank them more often.
He felt a hand on his back and turned. It was Dee.
‘Grazie for today, Mr De Luca. We couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘Happy to help, Dee, you know that. And it’s been great getting back on the floor.’
Dee raised one eyebrow, nodded towards Laney and her friends and patted his arm. ‘Yes. I could tell you were enjoying yourself.’
Rich wasn’t sure if he was being chastised or congratulated. He went with both. ‘Thanks. I think.’
Dee threw her head back and laughed. ‘Stop thinking so much, señor! I approve. You are dismissed.’ As she walked back towards the kitchen she threw her arm up in the air. ‘Enjoy!’
Rich smiled after her, relieved. She had become a replacement mum for him over the last few years and her opinion mattered.
He untied his apron and glanced over at Laney’s table. They weren’t there. His heart pounded as his apron fell to the floor. He spun around in a panic, scanning the room, and came face to face with Ryan who was holding the apron out to him.
‘Nice pirouette.’ Ryan studied him. ‘Ever thought of a career in ballet?’
Nerida and Laney were with him and Rich didn’t think he’d ever felt that kind of relief before. Looking down at her it occurred to him that he’d never seen her standing. She was short. Well, shorter than him. He guessed five foot four. She would fit under his arm and underneath him perfectly.
He cleared his throat at the thought. ‘Ballet? God no! Two left feet me. Always have, always will.’
Ryan looked from him to Laney. ‘Well, I’ll have to give you lessons for your wedding dance then.’
Nerida gave Ryan a light smack on the arm and shook her head. ‘You’ve made your point, Ry.’ She turned to Rich with a serious look on her face. ‘I’m so sorry, Rich, but Ryan and I have to head back into town for…ummm…’ A look of panic spread across her face.
‘An emergency,’ Ryan finished for her.
‘Yes. An emergency. Terrible thing. Happened. Happening. Just awful.’ Ryan gave her an elbow jab. ‘But Laney can stay for the tour on our behalf.’
Rich glanced across at Laney, who had her eyes focussed on the floor. He was onto them. He figured he’d play along.
‘Oh. That is terrible. I hope everything’s ok. Another time for you two then.’
Laney shot him a conspiratorial smile. She was onto him being onto them.
Rich felt a slap on the back. It was Ben. ‘Hey Rich. Introduce me to your new friends.’
He turned and gave Ben a not now buddy look, which didn’t work in the slightest. Ben reached forward to shake their hands, introducing himself as he went – Laney, then Ryan, and finally Nerida, which lasted a little longer than the other two. Rich was sure he saw Nerida’s beautiful dark skin shine with a blush.
Ryan clapped his hands, ending the moment. ‘Ok. Emergency, remember? Gotta go.’ He yanked Nerida’s hand away from Ben’s. ‘Take a photo it lasts longer.’ Then he turned her around and ushered her out, waving one hand in the air. ‘Byeeeeee! Thanks for a lovely lunch. Happy Birthday Laney.’ His voice echoed with his tenor vibrato singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as he and Nerida disappeared out the door.
Laney covered her face with her hands.
‘Not a fan of birthdays then?’ Rich asked.
Still buried in her hands, Laney shook her head.
Rich glanced over at Ben for help, who shrugged, seemingly perplexed why someone would hate having a birthday.
‘Me too,’ agreed Rich. Ben gave a little huff and opened his mouth to say something but Rich shut him down with a strong glare.
‘So who was that?’ Ben piped up.
‘Ryan,’ said Laney. ‘Don’t mind him. He can get snarky when he’s had a few.’
Ben shuffled his feet and his cheeks flushed. ‘No…I meant your other friend.’
Rich and Laney clocked eyes and smiled. ‘Oh…that’s Nerida.’ Laney smiled.
‘Nerida,’ Ben repeated, ‘Pretty. That’s a pretty name.’
Rich watched as his emotionally stunted, commitment-phobe of a friend softened before his eyes.
‘And she’s single,’ Laney added, giving him a wink.
Then, like an exorcism of a man possessed, old
Ben re-entered, and he rolled his eyes. ‘Cool.’
Before Rich could respond, Ben pointed towards the windows. ‘Jeez, mate, if you’re gonna do that tour you’d better get cracking.’
Rich and Laney turned to see what he was banging on about. A band of thick cloud hung across the horizon, creating a horizontal grey crack in the bright blue sky, turning a once beautiful summer day into a stormy summer surprise.
Ben, Rich and Laney watched the grey engulf the sky as the storm rolled towards them.
Laney
Laney loved storms.
It was Mother Nature’s way of clearing out the old with the new. Not in a biblical Noah’s Ark kind of way, because she didn’t like it when a storm brought destruction.
But she loved a good old thunder and lightning, big wet rain-dropping storm.
Summer storms were the best. As a kid, she used to sit on the verandah with her dad – while the pets hid under the beds and her mum covered the waterproof outdoor setting with a tarp – and wait for the lightning to strike. Then she would count.
One jumping jumbuck…two jumping jumbuck…three jumping jumbuck…four jumping jumbuck…five jumping jumbuck…six jumping jumbuck…seven jumping jumbuck.
Then the crack of thunder would make her squeal.
It’s one kilometre away Daddy! It’s close!
For many years she believed that it was the angels fighting in heaven that made thunder. At first she didn’t think angels would fight because they were perfect. But her dad said angels were definitely better than people but they still had their disagreements.
It wasn’t until the year she turned ten that she discovered thunder was actually created by lightning. The bolt of light opened up a hole in the sky and thunder was the sound of the hole collapsing when the lightning disappeared. It was also the year she found out Santa didn’t exist, and that dads didn’t live forever.
As Rich lead her towards a large steel shed he called the Barrel Barn, a few hundred metres from the restaurant, she saw the first flash of lightning and counted in her head.
One jumping jumbuck…two jumping jumbuck…three jumping jumbuck…four jumping jumbuck…five jumping jumbuck…six jumping jumbuck…seven jumping jumbuck.
CRACK! RUMBLE…
She looked up to the sky. ‘Dad. It’s close.’
Rich glanced down at her. ‘Sorry?’
‘Oh, that came out loud?’ She dropped her eyes, a flush rising in her cheeks.
‘I’m afraid so. You’ll have to give me the lowdown now.’
She studied him over the top of her glasses. ‘Ok. But you’ll think I’m crazy.’
‘Too late for that!’ Rich leaned his shoulder into hers. ‘C’mon. I promise I won’t laugh.’
‘I was talking to my dad. We used to watch storms together. He told me when I was a kid that thunder was angels fighting.’
Rich smiled and chuckled.
‘You promised not to laugh.’ Laney punched his arm playfully.
Rich dropped his head. ‘Sorry,’ his voice sheepish. ‘Go on.’
She took a deep breath and continued. ‘So now, every time there’s a storm I imagine Dad as an angel, arguing with another angel – probably something about the state of our healthcare system or how one should always put the jam on a scone before the cream.’
She glanced across at Rich who was frowning up at the sky.
A few moments passed and Rich looked at her, still very serious. ‘I’d have to agree with your dad. Jam should ALWAYS go first.’ His face softened and he beamed at her.
Laney shook her head. ‘Nope cream first.’
Rich stopped and turned to her. ‘Oh, come on! How the hell do you spread jam over the top of cream. It’s impossible. Jam is the base and the cream dollops on top. The other way, quite frankly, is crazy. And bloody messy.’
‘Have you tried it?’ Laney placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head.
Rich crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I don’t have to try it to know it’s wrong, wrong, WRONG!’
‘Oh, and let me guess, you’re always right?’ Laney threw him a cheeky smile.
Rich nodded and looked away. ‘One hundred percent.’
‘Well, you’re not this time. You’re wrong. Wrong. WRONG!’
‘Right.’
‘Wrong.’
‘Right.’
‘Wrong.’.
A bolt of lightning lit up the stormy sky interrupting their duel.
All of a sudden, Rich turned back to her, threw his arms open and laughed. ‘Did we just have our first fight?’
Before she could respond a thunderbolt split the air. Was her father trying to tell her something?
Large drops of rain fell, spaced so far apart they only splattered on the surrounding path, barely touching them.
Rich grabbed her hand. ‘Come on!’
They ran towards the barn as the rain became heavier, they got wetter and the sky lit up again. Another crack of thunder echoed around the valley as they ran through the doors and into safety. They both took in large gulps of air to get their breath back.
‘That’s wet rain,’ Laney panted.
‘That’s what rain does.’
‘No, there’s wet rain and then there’s WET rain.’
‘Well, it’s not rain anymore.’ Rich stood and watched as the raindrops turned into hailstones, small at first, and then becoming furious and almost the size of golf balls as they hit the ground and ricocheted off.
The hail pelted onto the roof and the sides of the steel shed, making conversation almost impossible.
Laney looked around. Rows and rows of shelving were filled with hundreds of wine barrels. It smelled of oak and fermentation. And with the smell of rain and whatever scent Rich was wearing, it was a heady combination.
She turned back to him, and he was standing at the door, watching the storm lash his vines. His white shirt was drenched. Fortunately for her she was right, it was wet rain, and his shirt clung to his torso. His muscles rippled underneath as he lifted his hand and ran it through his wet hair. She bit her lip to stop a small groan from escaping.
He turned to her and their eyes locked for a moment. Then his, full of craving, moved down her body, landing on her breasts. His breathing quickened and his eyes darkened, and glancing down, Laney saw that her lacy white bra was showing through the sheerness of her wet shirt. She looked back up and he was staring at her. Right into her. She felt her nipples strain against the wet lace.
As Rich took a step towards her a thunderclap broke through the sound of hail pelting onto the roof. He blinked as if the thunder had struck him.
Breaking their gaze he turned away, seemingly embarrassed for staring at her, and walked to a shelf in the middle of the shed, running his hand over the barrels.
Laney wanted him to run his hands over her like that. Okay, so she was a modern woman. She could make a move, right? And if not during a storm in a shed full of wine barrels then where else? In that moment every cell in her body shut down any hesitation she had about being with him. Fuck it.
She took a deep breath and walked up behind him, placing her hand over his. He hadn’t heard her approach, and he stiffened as her hand touched his. He didn’t turn, but continued running his hand across the wine-tinged oak.
Her breasts were a whisper away from touching his back and she could see his shoulders rise and fall with every breath. She stepped into him, their wet shirts sliding against each other. She could swear the hail increased its tempo, but that might have just been her heart beating furiously in her chest.
Rich squeezed her hand and then turned to her. Laney looked at him and smiled. He smiled too then backed her up against the barrels. The smell of the fermenting grapes and oak were almost too strong for her and she closed her eyes, searching for his scent instead. She felt his head tip to hers and the smell of rain and his fragrance almost made her drop to the ground. Her eyes flickered open. He must have known, because he slid his arm around her back and pulled her to hi
m, supporting her with one hand while the other removed her glasses, without ever taking his eyes off her. Those eyes had gone a dark blue, like a lust storm had washed across them. Laney had no idea what her eyes were doing but in that shed, in that storm, with that hail, she felt like they had opened up and let him in and that she was falling.
‘You ok?’ he whispered.
‘Oh, yes!’ Laney yelled above the hail.
She was so loud that Rich drew back.
‘Sorry. Oh God. I’m such a spoiler of moments like these.’ Laney rolled her eyes, annoyed with herself.
‘Shush. No, you’re not. You’re beautiful,’ he breathed. ‘So fucking beautiful.’ He kissed her. His lips still damp from the rain moved over hers as if he’d known her forever. He tasted her fully, his mouth covering hers, the tip of his tongue teasing her.
Laney kissed him back, small groans escaping from her mouth that was in heaven from his taste, how his lips and his tongue moved around hers.
He leaned into her, his kissing becoming more intense, his hand on the small of her back, insistent that she press into him. She did. She felt his hardness against her and she lifted her pelvis to let him know what she wanted. And boy, how she wanted it. Wanted him. His mouth smiled into hers and she groaned.
He pulled away from her and unbuttoned her blouse, letting it slide off her damp shoulders. She shivered as the air touched her bare skin. He stood very still for a moment and drank her in with his eyes as his hand ran down her neck and across to her breast. He cupped it in his hand while his thumb rubbed her nipple to hardness through the damp lace.
Laney leaned back into the barrel and lifted her chin as Rich dipped his head to kiss her neck, moving down towards her breast. Slipping his hand inside her bra he caressed it out over the top, exposing her hard and swollen bud. Taking it in his mouth he sucked and flicked it with his tongue, almost to the point of making Laney climax, as the pleasure moved down her entire body. She arched her back, pushing it further into his mouth as he caressed her other breast.
