“You didn’t say that to her,” Margot said.
“Which I made the mistake of saying to her right after they broke up,” he said. “I didn’t realize exactly how much of a mistake that was until she said, ‘Do you know how stupid that makes me feel?’ and then burst into tears. And while you may not realize what a big deal that is, I’ll tell you that in the almost fifteen years we’ve been friends, I think I’ve seen Avery cry exactly once before this. I felt . . . so terrible.” Avery had forgiven him pretty quickly, at least. “That was partly why I moved back here—she seemed like she could use a friend around. Granted, she didn’t say that—she said now that I wasn’t working, I should move somewhere else for a while, maybe I’d learn how to relax. Which is funny, because I don’t think she’s ever relaxed a day in her life.”
They both laughed.
“So have you?” Margot asked. “Learned how to relax, I mean?”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Margot grinned at him. “I didn’t think so.”
Luke knew he was smiling, far too big, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He knew, actually, that he shouldn’t even be doing this right now. It was his fault, this warm, close, intimate conversation he and Margot were having, where they’d both shared so much with each other, things neither of them meant to say. He’d started it, with that whole in this car, we’re just Luke and Margot thing. Because the problem was that they weren’t just Luke and Margot, and they both knew it.
He was just happy, right now, in this moment, with Margot sitting next to him, so close to him, and smiling at him in that way that had attracted him from the very first moment he’d seen her.
They finally passed the accident that had made the delay so intense for the past forty-five minutes, and the traffic got a lot lighter. They talked about other things, less heavy things, for the rest of the drive—their last vacations, favorite restaurants, what they’d both been reading. And all too soon, he pulled off the freeway.
Margot lifted a hand and pointed.
“To get to my house, you turn—”
“I know how to get to your house,” he said.
“Oh. Right.” After what she’d said about Elliot, he’d worried that she was embarrassed by what had happened between the two of them. But she still had that smile in her voice, and—he saw when he glanced over at her—on her lips.
A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of her house. And then he turned to face her, to see her smiling at him. But her smile was different from what he’d seen before. Not flirtatious and confident, like the night they’d met; not cool and professional, like at work; not even that friendly smile she sometimes gave him at work, when they managed to be normal and relaxed with each other. The smile on her face now was warm, trusting, open. It was his favorite way she’d ever looked at him.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “And . . . for listening.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said. “Really. And thank you, too.”
She didn’t move to get out of the car. They both just sat there, looking at each other, until he lifted his hand and cupped her face. God, her skin was so smooth. He made himself drop his hand, before she could pull away. Everything in him wanted to kiss her.
“I hate this, you know,” he said.
“I hate this, too,” she said in a low voice. And then she turned and got out of the car without another word.
Thirteen
MARGOT PULLED ON HER black wrap dress on Monday morning, this time with flat caramel sandals, a denim jacket, and simple gold jewelry. It would be too hot for the jacket by eleven, but for now it was still just overcast and cool enough that she needed it. It was going to be a busy day today; she had a bunch of calls, appointments back-to-back all day, and a few tours, one of which she’d let Marisol do, and another she might let Luke do.
Luke. She sighed. What had she been thinking the day before, telling him all of that about her and Elliot? Talking to him like she had? Looking at him, right before she got out of the car, like she knew she had.
She knew what she’d been thinking. That she was frustrated and needed a sympathetic ear, and that Luke had appeared out of nowhere with those thoughtful eyes and that kind smile and that warmth in his voice for her. Everything had come spilling out, and it had felt so good to say it all out loud, to voice the resentment and frustration and confusion that she usually kept bottled up inside. And Luke had just listened. He hadn’t given her advice, or told her it would all be okay or that maybe she’d heard Elliot wrong or that maybe he hadn’t really meant it, or tried to play devil’s advocate, or any of the things that would make her regret having told him. He’d just listened. That’s why she’d looked at him like that. That’s why she’d wished they were actually just Margot and Luke.
She usually rolled her eyes when men said “you can trust me” like Luke had. It was usually one of many signs that you absolutely should not trust them. But with Luke . . . it felt different.
She’d thought, for a moment there in the car when he’d dropped her off, that he was going to kiss her. He’d looked at her like he wanted to. But he hadn’t done it, hadn’t even tried. If he’d tried, she would have had to stop him, and it would have ruined the bond they’d woven together during the course of that car ride. If he’d tried, she would have known he hadn’t listened to her when she’d said not to do it again. If he’d tried, they would have had to become boss and employee again, and said goodbye to Luke and Margot, friends. That look on his face when he’d wanted to kiss her, but hadn’t, had been one of the most attractive things she’d ever seen. That he hadn’t kissed her made her feel closer to him than if he had.
Margot sighed again and got in her car to drive up the valley.
As soon as she got to the winery, she was so busy it felt like she never stopped moving. She was on one call even before she walked in the door, a returned call from a restaurant owner in L.A.; she had to remember everything about his account on the fly, which she did, but barely. She was just off that call when Pete called; when she saw his number, she was sure it would be a crisis, him canceling the rest of the work he was supposed to do for them—but no, it was just to tell her he and his guys would be there early the following morning and hoped to finish up this week. She’d just had time to get coffee when Taylor buzzed her to say that some VIPs had stopped in without an appointment, so she had to check her lipstick and then breeze into the tasting room to charm them and ply them with the best of Noble’s wines. They left an hour later, after messing up her whole schedule for the day, but also after buying three cases of wine.
She was so busy that day that whenever she saw Luke in passing, all she could do was smile or nod in his direction, and all he could do was smile or nod back. That was for the best. It felt different between them now. It had been one thing when they’d had sex, or kissed; that had been purely physical. But in the car together, they’d talked. Talked in a way that they hadn’t before. That she hadn’t with someone before, not in a while. She hadn’t even gotten that vulnerable with Sydney in months—it had felt easier to just push all of those difficult emotions away, not talk about them, not deal with them. But she’d talked to Luke, and he’d talked to her, and they’d felt like friends. She didn’t want to disturb that closeness between the two of them. But she also knew that it was exactly because she didn’t want to that she had to ignore it, put it away from her. If she were smarter than she was, she would do something to shatter it, show Luke she was one hundred percent his boss, not his friend. But then, if she were smarter than she was, she never would have allowed that closeness to grow in the first place.
Margot went back into her office to check her email. She jumped when Elliot knocked on her door.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
“It’s no problem,” she said. “I was just . . . in the middle of something. What’s going on?”
Elliot usually didn’t come by during the day unless something was wrong. Though he’d been coming by the winery building more, recently.
“I just came by to check to see that you got back okay,” Elliot said. “Yesterday, I mean. Since there was all that traffic on the way back up here.”
What? He was checking on her now? Did he suspect something about her and Luke? No, that didn’t make sense—he’d been the one to volunteer Luke to bring her home, anyway.
“Um, yeah, it was fine. A long drive, but no big deal.”
He nodded.
“Okay, just making sure. Also, I know you said it was too expensive for Pete to get planter boxes. I was thinking that I could use some of that scrap wood I got yesterday to make some. If you wanted.”