“So . . . things are going well there?”
It had been easy, up until now, to pretend to his mom that he was dating Avery. But after the past few days with Margot, after leaving her bed this morning and thinking about her all day and telling Avery that he actually really liked Margot, it felt impossible to seem even a tiny bit interested in any other woman.
But he couldn’t confess everything to his mom now. She was injured, and stressed about the inn. He didn’t want her to be upset about his job, too. And plus, like he’d said to Avery, he still didn’t know how long this thing with Margot was going to last.
“Yeah, Mom,” he said, looking down at the computer. “Things are going well there.”
Why did he feel so guilty when he said that?
* * *
LUKE SPENT THE NIGHT at Margot’s house every night that week. Margot knew they should hold off, that they should take breaks from each other, that she shouldn’t let herself get too attached too fast, but every morning when he left he said, See you later? and every time she said, Yes, see you later. She couldn’t help herself. She liked him, she liked everything about him. She liked the way he asked her questions about her day and listened, really listened, to her answers; she liked the stupid jokes he cracked when he could tell something had gotten her in a bad mood; she liked the way he smiled at and chatted with their waitress at the burger place they went to on Thursday night after work; she liked the huge tips he left, without calling attention to them; she liked the way he talked about his mom, exasperated but loving.
And she liked—she really liked—the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her, the way he touched her. Like she was the only person he’d ever looked at in that way, like he’d been waiting all day to talk to her, like the ability to touch her, to kiss her, was a privilege.
But every night? She had to stop this. It was too fast. She would get sick of him, or he would get sick of her, more likely. She decided this on Thursday, on Friday, on Saturday, all during the day at work, but every night right when she was about to leave the winery, he would text her, or she would text him, and he would be waiting at her door when she got home.
On Sunday, she decided for sure. They’d both been working hard all week, not sleeping enough; they probably both needed a break from each other.
No, they definitely did. Plus, she hadn’t been by the Barrel in way too long. She would go, sit at the bar, talk to Sydney. And then she’d go home and get work done—she still had so much to do for the party, so many tiny details to figure out so it would be perfect. She could see Luke Monday. Or even Tuesday. This thing between them couldn’t last too long; she didn’t want herself to get too attached. Luke was only up here in Napa Valley temporarily, she knew that. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, she assumed. She would still enjoy the hell out of this as long as she could, obviously. But she didn’t want to make it into something it wasn’t.
She didn’t text him before she left the winery that night. She didn’t even check her phone. She parked at her house, walked over to the Barrel, and slid into her regular seat at the corner of the bar.
“Excuse me?” she said to Sydney’s back. “Can I get some service over here?”
Sydney turned around and gave her a wide smile.
“Welcome to the Barrel! Can I interest you in some wine? We have plenty of local Napa Valley vintages. Are you visiting the area?”
Margot pursed her lips.
“Come off it, Syd.”
Sydney opened her eyes wide.
“Oh! It’s you! Margot Noble, as I live and breathe! It’s been so long, I barely recognized you. How have you been?”
Margot just stared at her and did her best not to smile as Sydney’s grin got wider.
“Don’t even remember how you’ve been? The sex is that good, huh?”
“Sydney!”
Sydney laughed, and Margot couldn’t help herself from laughing, too. Sydney pulled out a bottle of sparkling wine, poured a glass, and set it in front of Margot.
“There. My penance, for making fun of you.”
Margot picked up the glass.
“Thank you. And the answer to your question is yes.”
Sydney grinned.
“I thought so. Where is lover boy tonight? Is he joining you here soon?”
Margot shook her head.
“No. And I don’t know where he is. I decided we needed a little break from each other tonight.”
She fought herself not to pull her phone out to see if he’d texted.
What if he hadn’t texted? Or what if he had, and was waiting outside her house for her? She should check, just to make sure.
“Why?” Sydney asked.
Margot looked up at Sydney.
“What?”
“Why?” Sydney repeated. “Why did you decide you needed to have a break from each other tonight? Did you have a fight?”
Margot shook her head.
“No, nothing like that. It’s just . . . we’ve been together every night all week. It’s good to have breaks, right? I don’t want to get too . . .” She couldn’t say attached; Sydney would think she was already attached, which she wasn’t. “Too overexposed.”
Sydney raised her eyebrows as a salad of little gem lettuces and fresh peas landed in front of Margot.
“Overexposed? This isn’t business, Margot. What does that even mean?”
Margot turned her attention to her salad.
“You don’t have to parse all of my words. Can’t I just come to my friend’s restaurant to hang out with her? I don’t have to spend every night with Luke.”
Sydney didn’t say anything to that. Finally, Margot looked up from her salad—it was delicious; she should tell Charlie that—to find Sydney smiling at her.
“Thank you for coming to your friend’s restaurant to hang out with her,” Sydney said. “As you can see, Charlie has missed you.”
She glanced over Margot’s shoulder, and seconds later Margot had a plate of grilled calamari with lemon and artichokes in front of her.
“I missed Charlie, too,” Margot said.
Sydney looked closely at her.
“But things are good? With you two?”
Margot looked down at her plate.
“Yeah. Things are good.” She thought of the way Luke had kissed her that morning, over coffee in her kitchen. He’d taken the mug out of her hands and pulled her close and . . . She shook that off and looked at Sydney, who had an indulgent smile on her face.
“It’s not serious, of course,” she said quickly. She didn’t want Sydney thinking she was expecting anything out of this. “He’s a lot of fun, and he seems interested now, but I don’t know if I can trust him. I probably can’t.”
Sydney shrugged.
“Probably not. But do you like him?”
Margot sighed. Then nodded.
“Yeah. I like him a lot.”
Sydney looked over Margot’s shoulder again.
“Hold on, be right back.”
Sydney handled an issue at the front door, came back behind the bar to help the bartender pull together drinks for a big party, and then chatted with Margot for a few minutes before she had to rush off and deal with something else. That had never bothered Margot before, the way Sydney jumped around the restaurant the whole time she was there, but tonight it made her fidgety. Usually she would sit here and do some work on her phone, scroll social media, occasionally read a book, but tonight she hadn’t brought a book with her, and she’d banned herself from looking at her phone. Even though it felt like it was glowing there, in her bag. She knew if she pulled it out, she’d either see a text from Luke and she wouldn’t be able to help herself from texting back, or she wouldn’t see a text from Luke and she’d be disappointed.
She dug through her bag and found a magazine, left over from when a guest had left it at the tasting room weeks ago and she’d tossed it in her bag on the way out the door. She flipped through it, looking for something to entertain her, to keep her attention, to keep her from thinking about Luke and why she’d had this stupid idea to spend a night apart in the first place.
Sydney walked in her direction, and Margot looked up with relief.
“More bubbles?” she asked as she filled Margot’s glass.
Margot laughed.
“What if the answer was no? It is sometimes, you know.”
“I know,” Sydney said. “But those times you tell me when you sit down. ‘Only one glass, I have work to do tonight.’ Do you forget how well I know you?”
Margot sighed and picked up her glass.
“Occasionally, yes.”
Sydney looked over Margot’s shoulder again. More drama by the front door, probably.
“Fancy seeing you here tonight,” she said to someone, with a grin on her face.
Margot turned.
“Hi,” Luke said. “Is this seat taken?”
God, she was happy to see him.
“It is now,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
He sat down next to her, and she reached for his hand.
“I got a text from Avery to come here.”
Oh.
“Did you have plans with her tonight?”
He shook his head.