“I’d love that, thanks so much. I’m Aurora.”
Margot smiled and reached for the bottle of rosé, even though she felt like there had just been a tiny earthquake that only she’d felt. Because this woman in front of her was a writer for the San Francisco Chronicle. Margot had made it her business to know what everyone who wrote for the food and travel pages looked like, just in case they ever came through the tasting room. And now one of them was here, at the party. She must not have RSVP’d—or done it under a different name—if she had, Margot would have noticed. She’d planned this party, down to the second, but if she’d known this woman would show up, she would have planned it better, done more, made sure they never got off schedule with the pizza, or the tacos, or the burgers . . .
She forced a bright smile on her face and handed Aurora her rosé.
“Enjoy! Here’s what we’re pouring today, and here’s a list of all of our wines for purchase. There’s pizza, and arancini, and empanadas . . . oh yes, they’re just serving them now. More tacos should be available shortly. My brother, Elliot—the Noble Family Vineyards winemaker—is in the barn, if you have any questions for him.”
Did she manage to be friendly and informative and the perfect winery owner and hostess without being over-the-top about it? Maybe. Probably not? Was she smiling too hard? Almost certainly.
She reached for another bottle of wine as Taylor came up to her, two plates of pizza in her hands.
“The pizza is great, boss,” Taylor said. “Luke said he knew you hadn’t tried it yet, so he had me bring a slice over to you before the pizza man is all sold out.”
Margot concentrated on opening the wine, so she wouldn’t smile that goofy smile she knew she got whenever she thought about Luke. Sydney had taken a picture of her last week when she’d been smiling like that.
“That was nice of him,” she said to the wine bottle. “He seems to be making himself useful today—did you remind him he doesn’t work here anymore?”
Taylor laughed and started to answer as Margot looked up. She saw Aurora walking across the lawn in the direction of the pizza, sipping her rosé. She hoped there was enough pizza left for her.
“Taylor,” she said in a low voice. “Do you see that woman over there, in the denim shirt and dark hair? She writes for the San Francisco Chronicle. Make sure she gets . . . I don’t know, our very best service.”
Taylor grinned at her.
“We give our best Noble service to everyone.”
Margot made a face at her.
“You know what I mean.” She looked around. “That reminds me—I have to make sure Elliot knows so he doesn’t disappear or anything while she’s here. I bet she’ll want to talk to him.”
She hoped this didn’t make Elliot revolt. He’d so far been a lot better today than she’d expected, but she knew that couldn’t last.
She put the wine bottle down and turned toward the barn.
“I’ll be right back.”
She turned and looked for Luke again, just as a guy in a white baseball cap gestured too widely and knocked a glass out of someone’s hand. It fell onto the lawn, but didn’t break, thank goodness.
Ah, there was Luke. He was standing over by the table for the Barrel, chatting with Sydney and Charlie. He looked up and grinned at her, and she grinned back at him. He gestured to her, like he wanted her to come over there, but she had to go to the barn to talk to Elliot. She’d come back and find Luke afterward. Wasn’t there something she had to talk to him about? She’d remember later.
* * *
FOR ABOUT THE TENTH time that day, Luke walked toward Margot just as she turned and walked in a different direction. No, it was probably at least the twentieth time; he’d lost count. Any other day, he’d take it personally, except she’d barely stayed in one place for more than five minutes for the entire party. Plus, he’d managed to make it over to her at least three times—each time they’d had only the chance to smile at each other and quickly check in before she’d rushed off in another direction, but just being around her made him happy. And today, unlike the many other times they’d been together at the winery, when he’d looked around for her, she’d looked back at him and given him a quick, tiny smile.
He walked over toward Taylor, a plate of food in his hands. Margot wasn’t in sight anymore; Taylor would know where she was. Or, at least, in which direction she’d gone.
“Hey—Sydney sent me over here with food for Margot. Do you know where she is?”
Taylor looked down to see the pizza he’d sent over for Margot still behind the table.
“Good idea. She went to find Elliot, but she could be anywhere now. Though that red dress does make her easy to find.”
Luke turned to go find her, and then stopped.
“Before I forget: That guy over there, with the white baseball cap and the blue shirt? I don’t think he needs any more wine.”
Taylor looked where he’d gestured, and nodded.
“Good catch,” she said. “I think we’ve all been too busy to really keep track. Thanks, Luke.”
He shrugged.
“No problem. Be right back.”
He probably could have left the food for Margot at the table— Taylor would have made sure she got it—but he wanted to give it to her himself. She hadn’t eaten all day. And he’d barely talked to her all day. He wanted to check in, see how she was doing, how she thought the day was going. He thought she’d be pleased—there were a lot of people here, the food was great, the music was fun, everyone seemed happy—but he didn’t know if there had been problems below the surface that he hadn’t noticed.
He went into the barn to see if Margot was there, and stopped just inside the door. She was over in the corner, with Elliot and a woman with short hair and glasses. Elliot was talking animatedly—which was surprising—and Margot was smiling, but something in the nature of her smile and the way she was standing made it clear to Luke that this was a high-pressure conversation, for Margot, at least.
He waited for her to notice him, which she did after about a minute. She nodded at him, and after another minute or so, put her hand on Elliot’s arm.
“I’ll leave you two to this. Aurora, please let me know if you need any more wine, though I’m sure Elliot can take care of that. I’ll be back outside if you have any questions.”
She walked toward Luke, a smile on her face, and an anxious look in her eyes. Luke handed her the plate when she got close enough to him.
“Charlie sent this to you,” he said as they walked together out of the barn. “I think they might have me drawn and quartered if I didn’t deliver this plate safely. And Sydney gave me these napkins for you.”
Margot laughed, but it was her practiced, professional laugh. It felt weird, to both be here, to be acting so formal and distant with her, when their relationship had changed so much over the past month. Maybe that was why they’d barely interacted during the party: He didn’t want to hear that friendly, distant tone to her voice. Like she was talking to anyone.
Why had she kept their relationship a secret from the people at Noble? He knew it was partly because of Margot’s baggage with Elliot, but he hadn’t pushed her on that. He hadn’t really felt like he could, since his mom was still under the impression that he was dating Avery. He planned to tell his mom the truth about that. It just had its own complications.
He and Margot walked out of the barn, and she inclined her head to the far side of the barn. As soon as they were out of sight of the party, she turned to him, her eyes lit up.
“That woman in there!” she said in a low whisper. “In the barn, talking to Elliot! She writes for the San Francisco Chronicle! I’ve been hoping someone from there would come to the tasting room this summer. They’ve occasionally written about our wines, but not enough, and never about visiting the winery. And now she’s here! At the party!”
Margot’s professional mask was gone, and she was talking to him like she did when they were side by side at the bar, or at her house on the couch, or in bed. He didn’t know why he felt so relieved.
“That’s fantastic!” he said. “How did it go with her? Wait, eat those risotto balls before you answer that. And yes, I recognize Charlie is trying to steal you away from me with this food, but the least I can do is to make sure you actually eat today.”
Margot rolled her eyes, but blushed.
“Not you, too,” she said. “You’ve been listening to Sydney too much.” But she picked up one of the—now probably cold—risotto balls and popped it in her mouth. “Happy now?” she asked when she finished chewing.
He nodded.
“Very. But tell me more about this Aurora person.”