“I don’t tell Jerry shit.”
“Okay, it’s this guy who works at the winery. He’s gorgeous, but totally not what I’m used to. He’s tall and thin but really muscly. His hair is kind of grown out and sometimes he slicks it back. He has a scruffy light beard and tattoos. Oh my god, his tattoos!”
“Whoa, Kate. Bad boy, bad boy, whatcha gonna do?”
“That’s the thing. He’s not. He’s really sweet and sensitive, but confident and sexy as hell—and smart, too. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing here picking grapes.”
“Get his history,” she said urgently.
“I did. He told me all about his childhood and everything. He had a totally normal upbringing, besides the fact that he was adopted.”
“I meant get his sexual history before you drop your panties for him.”
I laughed. “What is it with you and Jerry? You guys think I’m some kind of slut.”
“Do you know what a dental dam is?”
“I’m changing the subject.”
“Get his history, that’s all I’m trying to tell you. If you’re going to have your little winery fantasy, then get the details.”
“Now you really sound like a journalist. I’ll let you go.”
She got quiet for a few moments. “Kate, I’m happy for you. Seriously. Enjoy yourself for once. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Lying on the bed, I wondered where my little fantasy could take me. I had a life in Chicago, plants in my apartment that needed watering, and a career. There was Just Bob on the train waiting to give me some life-changing advice, and then there were Beth and Jerry. I thought about all of it, but when I added it up together, sadly it didn’t amount to much. I loved Beth and Jerry, but they were colleagues. I could write anywhere; I could live anywhere. I wondered if Jamie liked me enough to see where things would take us or if he was looking at me as a fling, something temporary.
I thought about what it would be like to upend my life and move to California, but the idea of losing my rent-controlled apartment scared me. Then I thought about the holiday train. Every year the transit people decorate one train. They completely deck it out—even Santa Claus rides on it. My entire life, all I had ever wanted to do was ride the holiday train, but I’d never been able to catch it. When people would talk to me about how rad it was to ride the holiday train, I wanted to kick them in the face.
I was trying to convince myself, while lying on that bed, that I had enough reason to stay in Chicago because, hey, I hadn’t ridden the holiday train, but I fell asleep thinking about Jamie and what his rough hands would feel like on my bare skin.
Page 8
* * *
Exposition Three knocks startled me out of bed. I glanced at the clock—9:01 a.m. I had never slept in that late. I bolted to my feet and headed for the entryway, wearing only a tight black crewneck T-shirt and black lace panties. I hid my lower half behind the cracked door and peeked out to find a smiling female member of the waitstaff holding a metal carafe.
“Hello, Ms. Corbin. I have coffee for you. And this.” She handed me a folded-up piece of paper that had the word Itinerary written across it in messy handwriting. I opened the door wide and let her pass into the room. She set the coffee on the corner table and I scrambled into the bathroom, threw on a white terry robe, and came out, not bothering to tie it.
“Hi, um . . . ?”
“Lydia.”
“Hi, Lydia. I’m having some issues with the Wi-Fi. I think I need a new code?”
“Okay, I’ll check on that for you.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s frittata and fresh fruit and muffins and scones in the dining room when you’re ready to come down. I’ll be right back with that code.” She passed me and headed out the door.
I stood near the entry and started to unfold the itinerary when the three knocks came again. Wow, she’s fast. I opened the door wide to find Jamie on the other side, looking charming. I glanced down at myself and realized my robe was still hanging open.
“Good morning,” he murmured distractedly. I didn’t move. His eyes skimmed down my body and back up again. He put his hand over his heart and then turned around to walk away but quickly turned back and stood his ground in the doorway. He was trying to collect himself. He looked up at the ceiling and then back at me. When his eyes met mine, he smiled.
“See something you like?” I asked, using his line on him.
He cleared his throat. “You have no idea.”
“I haven’t read my itinerary yet so I don’t know why you’re here.” I batted my eyelashes and smiled innocently.
“It’s not about that. Although, right now, I’m wishing I’d made breakfast plans with you.”
“I have work to do, young man.”