“No, I’ve never done this for them, but I know Susan. She comes in a lot. Did you want to add some shoes or jewelry?”
“Thank you, but I think the dress is enough.” I hadn’t even looked at the price tag before she clipped it off. She wrapped the dress in pink tissue paper, slipped it into a white bag, and handed it over to me. “Enjoy. Have a lovely day.”
I walked out to my car, a little stunned. I didn’t know if Susan was buttering me up or if everyone really was this genuinely nice at the winery. Except for stupid R.J., whom I had started to resent. Of course I had to write the article about him, because that’s what my editor wanted. R.J. was the whole reason I was here. But I found myself dreading it. I wondered how I could twist the story so that I could tell the truth about him without negatively impacting the winery itself. I could say he was philanthropic and well meaning, but I knew deep down that being truthful about his personality would take away from that. Had I known how to spin the article, I would have written it already.
I didn’t get back to the winery until a little after three. I was supposed to meet Jamie in less than an hour. I literally ran from my car, through the parking lot, and through the main room of the inn. George laughed at me from the front desk. “Hey, George!” I yelled, and then I took two stairs at a time until I was at my door. I showered in record time, but I took great care pinning up my hair and drawing little strands out around my face. I had the black heels that I brought with me, which went perfectly with the dress. I thickened my lashes with mascara and made a few passes with the blush brush. When I got to my lips, I slowly swept the translucent gloss across my bottom lip and thought about Jamie kissing it away.
Three knocks sounded right at four p.m. I skipped over to the door and opened it wide. The first thing I noticed was his eyes, which glimmered and squinted slightly with a look of wonder. He was wearing a black button-down dress shirt and black jeans cuffed over a pair of Converse. He looked sexy and hip, but a little dangerous, too.
“You look . . .” and then he paused.
“Handsome,” I said with a brazen smirk.
“Stunning.”
“Gorgeous.”
His eyes glanced down to my lips. “There have been no women before you and there will be no women after you,” he said, seriously.
I swallowed. “And he’s poetic, too.”
He moved into the room, put his arm around me, kissed my cheek, and whispered, “You inspire me.” Once he stepped back, he opened a long black jewelry case revealing a delicate filigree chain with a floating peach-colored briolette bordered with marcasite along the top.
“Oh my god, this is beautiful. It looks like an antique.”
“It is.”
“This is too much, Jamie.” I shook my head. “It’s gorgeous, really, but I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can, and you will. I have a friend who owns a little antique store in town. It’s not a big deal, I promise.”
“I can’t even imagine how much this cost.”
“Please, don’t think about that.” He took it out of the box and twirled his other finger at me. “Turn around, beautiful.” He gently brushed the loose strands of my hair aside. I could feel his warm breath on the back of my head. When he clasped the necklace, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss on the side of my neck. “God, you smell good,” he said softly.
I giggled from his ticklish breath. When I turned around he was smiling serenely, but he had an obvious look of desire in his eyes. “We better go now or we’ll never get out of here,” I said.
“You are so right about that. Come on.”
We drove across the big, red bridge and into the city of San Francisco, with its steep hills, Victorian row houses, and the famous trolley cars coasting along the main streets downtown. The energy in the city was like none other I’d experienced. Rolling down my window, I took in the sights and smells. Every time a trolley bell rang, it transported me back to another time, a time when the black-and-white photos from the winery were taken, when life was simpler. The smell of saltwater, baking bread, and wet pavement overtook my senses. We drove deeper into the city through Nob Hill and past Union Square. Jamie didn’t say much, he just let me take in the sights. We found a parking garage and parked, then he reached behind his seat and pulled out a woman’s short trench coat.
“Susan thought you would need this, and I think she was right.” It was chillier in the city than in Napa, and I was grateful for Susan’s thoughtfulness. “It’s a shame to cover you up, but I think you’ll feel more comfortable where we’re going.” He held the jacket open for me. I slipped it on and tied the belt.
“Where are we going?”