I WOKE ON THE HARD floor of my studio, a smock over my clothes, and I have no idea how I let that happen. Or maybe I do. Nick was on my canvas and in my mind, but he wasn’t in my bed downstairs, where I’d be alone again. And those words: I’ll find out. They’d haunted me then and do now as I sit at my desk inside my tiny office at the winery. Those words made me ask again: Are we friends or enemies? I’m confused and irritated that I somehow ended up in a black skirt and royal blue blouse today, the color reminding me of that damn dress he’d ripped. Of that moment he’d leaned in and licked me and then promised—I won’t stop next time.
“Why are you flushed?”
I look up to find Kasey in my doorway, his gray suit and tie as perfect as the work he does here at the winery. “Too much caffeine. Can you shut the door when you come in?”
“Of course,” he says, doing as I’ve asked, and glancing around my box of an office. “Why do you stay in this hole? There are three bigger choices, including mine.”
“You get the corner office,” I say, as he sits down. “You’re the boss. I’m just your assistant.”
“You never wanted to be here. It hurts my heart that you feel you have to be. I can handle this place, Faith.”
For the first time in a long time, I take those words to heart, despite knowing they’re true. “You can run this place. You do run this place. But there was my mother. No one but me could manage her.”
“Yes, well,” he says. “That’s a conversation we should have, Faith. She’s gone. I hate to say it, but that changes things. You are an artist. You have a budding career. You had a show again, which I still hate I couldn’t get a ticket to, by the way. How was it?”
“Wonderful,” I breathe out, because I just can’t stop myself. “It was really wonderful.”
“Good,” he says, his eyes warm with a pride I never saw in my father’s. Not in regard to my art. “There is no reason you can’t get back on that path.”
“Right now, we need to talk about the legal issues.”
“And the bill collectors,” he says. “We’ve been avoiding the white elephant in the room too long. Why wasn’t your mother paying the bills? What don’t I know?”
Nick’s words echo once again in my mind: What haven’t you told me, Faith? And I shove them aside. “I don’t have the answer to that question. We’re making money. Not what we were before we lost part of the vines, but we’re making money. And we never stopped making money. Right now, without a will, I’m locked out of her accounts and there are legal steps I have to take to protect us. Nick Rogers, who you met yesterday, is coming on board to help.”
“I looked him up and I was hoping like hell you were going to say that.”
I breathe out, thankful to Nick for the relief I see in Kasey’s eyes right now. “He wants to call you. He’s weeding through this mess and needs input.”
“I’m not sure how I can help, but of course,” he says. “Anything to get this mess behind us and get you out of this office.” He narrows his gaze on me. “There are at least three people here on staff that could step up and take on more, so you can get back to being you.”
“You know my father—”
“Was obsessed with you running this place. We all know that, but Faith, life is short. This place is my life. It’s why I get up in the morning and do so with excitement. Have you said that for even one day of your life that you’ve spent here?”
Yes, I think. This past Friday when I knew I had a show and I was going to stay at my house.
“I didn’t think so,” he says, when I haven’t answered quickly enough. “You pay me well, little one. I get incentives that made a difference before we lost the vines. This is not your dream. Go chase your dream.”
“The bill collectors—”
“You must think I’m a delicate flower,” he says. “I am not. You have Nick Rogers now. You’ll get your mother’s bank accounts unlocked and get everything up to date.”
I pray he’s right. And as confused by Nick as I am right now, I’m glad he’s involved.
“Your mother threatened to fire me,” he adds, “and I believed she’d do it. That’s why you had to run interference. The bill collectors can’t fire me. Only you can and frankly, getting you the hell out of here is job security.”
His walkie-talkie buzzes. “I need you, Kasey,” comes a female voice.
“I’ll be right there, Shannon,” he answers, speaking to our garden manager before refocusing on me. “Stay at your house, like you did this weekend. It’s a start. And I’ll talk to Nick and whoever else needs to help you get past this probate issue.” His walkie-talkie goes off again. “Ah. I need to go.” He’s on his feet and at the door, gone before I can issue the words, “Thank you.”
I let out a breath and turn my attention to my computer, doing what I haven’t done up until now. I google Nick Rogers. The minute his picture fills my screen, my stomach flutters, and I know that I am in trouble with this man. He affects me. He peels back the layers that are safer left in place. And he doesn’t trust me, which means he’s going to keep peeling. And why do I want to be with a man that doesn’t trust me?
My phone buzzes. “Faith, you have a call,” the receptionist tells me. “Bill—”
“Winter,” I supply, anger spiking through me. “I’m not available.”
“Understood.”
I inhale and let it out. My father did not forgive him. I don’t believe that for a minute. I key up my email and my heart skips a beat at Nick’s name, when I haven’t even given him my email address. I hit the button to open it and read:
Faith:
What the fuck are you doing to me?
Nick
P.S. Don’t stop.
I sit back in my chair and pant out a breath, feeling so much right now. Feeling too much. I am one big emotion and I can’t even name it. Maybe because I stopped recognizing anything but guilt. Guilt over not wanting this place. Guilt over my answer to my father. Guilt over so many things with my mother, when she doesn’t deserve to make me feel that. I know that. But I still feel it.
But these feelings Nick stirs in me…They aren’t guilt. But I think there’s some fear. Yes. Fear. I hate fear. It’s a weakness. But I am afraid of Nick and yet, that fear is almost a high. Everything about that man is a high that I crave. Maybe I’m obsessed because he’s on my computer screen right now and I want to feel him next to me again. I want to call him and hear his voice.
And yet I don’t.
I can’t.
Why am I being this stupid?
He will find out who I really am. He will.