Page 16 of Work and Play
“A whirlwind?” I ask, then wince, hoping she doesn’t take that the wrong way. The giggle she makes in return is a relief.
“That’s the perfect description. Gotta love her.”
We’ve made it to the front of the line, so Mila goes behind the counter. “Alright, what can I get you today?”
“A cinnamon bun please, and a large hazelnut latte.”
“You got it, girl.”
Moments later, Mila hands me my order. “I hope you really do come and hang out with us tomorrow. It would be nice to get to know you.”
The genuine tone in her voice, paired with the smile she gives me, makes me feel all warm inside. Man, I wish I had people like this back home.
“I’d love to come, thank you.”
“Great! Text Serena. Okay, I gotta go, those muffins aren’t going to bake themselves.”
With one last cheerful wave, Mila bustles into the back of the café, and I make my way to my car.
There’s definitely something to be said for small towns. Whatever it is, the people here are so kind and welcoming.
If only there was a good sushi restaurant, I might be tempted to stay.
Chapter nine
Finn
I’ve called every single motel and hotel, every Airbnb that I can find within a half-hour of the winery in an attempt to find somewhere else to stay. Somewhere that I won’t run the risk of my ultimate temptation seeing my naked ass.
Unfortunately, there’s a convention on the island or something, and every place is full. Which is rare, unheard of even, according to Ethan. He again offered for me to stay with him and Summer, and I’m almost at that point. Almost.
Between getting up early to hit the gym, and staying at the winery as late as possible, I’ve managed to avoid seeing Ashley at the house. I hear her and I smell her, or at least I hear her walking around. I smell her shampoo, or soap, or whatever girly product she uses that smells like citrus and fucking sunshine. But at least I haven’t had to look at her.
I’ve been showering at the gym, and the lack of privacy both there and at the Airbnb means it’s been over a week since I was able to relieve the tension building in me with every passing moment I have to spend around her. She’s driving me crazy, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.
“Finn. I’m glad I caught you today.” I glance up from the notes I’m studying on how I plan to blend the chardonnay grape juice arriving soon. Pierre’s walking toward me with a focused look on his face.
“Ashley says she will have the flooring samples next week, and the bar is being installed soon. Have you finalized the location for the fridges and sinks behind the tasting counter?”
“Yes.” I nod. It’s an easy decision; I’m copying my favourite layout from a winery in Napa. A large circle shape that allows for good flow and spacing between customers, as well as plenty of room for staff behind. An overhead rack for glasses, pendant lighting, stools, and a foot rail will round out the focal point of the tasting room. Ashley was disappointed we wouldn’t be using her live edge wood for the bar, but even she had to agree the circular design was better. And instead, the live edge will go as the main focal point in the shop area, along one wall that has large windows overlooking the land where our grapes will soon grow.
“Things are going well with her, non?”
My head whips around to stare at Pierre.
“I mean, yeah. I think so, why?”
He shrugs in that relaxed, laissez-faire way only the French can. “She is doing a good job. That is all.”
I internally heave a sigh of relief. “Right. Yeah, she is.”
“And she tells me she is making friends with your friends. Do you think she is happy?”
“Why the questions, Pierre?”
“Her father, he worries. He asks me how she is.”
I consider how to answer without letting on about any of the buried sexual tension I’m fighting.
