Page 78 of Some Sort of Happy (Happy Crazy Love 1)
“Well, I know that you ran a successful event planning business for years in Detroit, so I figured you might want to expand the event schedule here…maybe start promoting Abelard as a wedding venue? Possibly host small corporate events?”
She looked amused. “Go on.”
“I researched pinot noir and Gamay, the two red wines your husband makes here, and learned quite a bit about why those wines should do well even in a cool climate like ours, and how our position along the forty-fifth parallel mimics the growing conditions in other parts of the world where those grapes do well. Part of that I knew because of growing up on a cherry farm,” I admitted. “Cherries do well here too for many of the same reasons—the soil, the hilly land, the water surrounding us.”
“My goodness. You really have done your homework.” She tilted her head and crossed her arms. “And you worked at Rivard?”
I shifted uncomfortably. I’d known it was coming and had rehearsed how to handle it, but it was still embarrassing. “Yes, for about a month. I really enjoyed the job, and I learned a lot there, but Mrs. Rivard had a problem with my performance on a reality television show, which painted me as a bit of a villain.” Please, please don’t have watched the show.
“Seriously?” She blinked. “What show?”
I screwed up my face and cringed. “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy).”
Mia burst out laughing and clapped her hands together once. “Oh my God, that’s funny. Wow.” Giggling, she tucked one leg beneath her and winked at me. “So did you? Ride a cowboy?”
“No.” I shook my head. “The only thing I rode was a mechanical bull, and I only lasted seven seconds.”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. The entire experience was pretty embarrassing, and I’d like to forget all about it. I asked Mrs. Rivard if I could list her as a reference, and she said I could. I don’t believe she had any issues with my work there—it was simply a matter of my persona on the show not gelling with her vision of a good employee.” I took my resume from my bag and handed it to her. “Her contact information is here, if you’d like it.”
“Thank you.” She studied the resume a moment. “Ah, you were a Cherry Queen.”
I sighed, feeling like I should come clean. “Yes, I was, but they asked me not to advertise it. I put it on the resume because it’s something I’m proud of, but after the show aired, they effectively dethroned me for bad behavior.”
“Really?” Her eyes went wide. “What the heck did you do on that show?”
“I just wasn’t myself,” I said. “I acted a certain way because the producers wanted ratings, and they figured I’d get more attention if I played devious and mean.”
“Did it work?”
I shrugged. “For a little while. But it sure backfired on my life. I shouldn’t have done it, but…live and learn. On to better things.”
She nodded. “I agree. We all make mistakes.”
“There you are.” The deep voice came from the far end of the room, and I looked over to see a ridiculously attractive man walking toward us. I think my jaw hung open a moment before I remembered to close it.
Mia looked over her shoulder at him. “Yes, I decided to sit in here. I didn’t feel like climbing those stairs again and it’s so pretty this morning.”
He reached the back of the couch and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You OK?”
“Yes.” She patted his hand and gestured to me. “This is Skylar Nixon, the friend of Sebastian Pryce. Skylar, this is my husband, Lucas.”
I stood and he reached over Mia’s head to shake my hand. He had dark eyes and hair, worn a little long and shaggy, and a fantastic smile. Christ, what did their children look like? “Very nice to meet you,” I said. “You have a beautiful place here.”
“Our little Provence.” He glanced at Mia. “My family has a vineyard there and we tried to create some of that magic here.”
“Oh, I bet she knows all about that.” Mia’s eyes twinkled. “She’s done her research.”
“Oh?” Lucas looked at me.
“Yes.” I smiled. “I know the location, I know you grew mostly grenache, and I know you got married there.”
“See?” Mia glanced up at her husband and pointed at me. “This is what I need. Someone who looks like this and has the brains to come prepared to an interview.”
“Thank you.” I rocked forward onto my toes, I was so happy.
“Sounds like this is going well, then. I’ll leave you to it. Skylar, very nice to meet you, and you”—he leaned down to kiss her, the back of his hand in her hair—“take it easy.”
