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We take the path that loops around the lake, eventually stopping at a bench in front of where the ducklings fan out their tail feathers and play in the water. “They have a good life here,” Colin observes.
“They do.”
I sit on one end of the bench, leaving ample space for Colin, but he sits right in the middle, closer than I’d like. Clueless. Here, I’m trying my best to be a tour guide and gal pal, and he’s thwarting me at every turn. I can’t even remember what we were talking about two minutes ago.
“So what’s it like living in Napa?” he asks, dropping my hand and stretching his arms overhead like he’s settling into relaxing. My hand feels cold, and I briefly leave it on the bench between us, hoping he’ll pick it up again, but he doesn’t. He’s oblivious to what I’m feeling because he’s feeling none of it. Clearly.
It’s good, I tell myself. It helps me reinforce that I should not and do not have feelings for Colin Hathaway. However, he is proving to me that I may need a man in my life. My body obviously craves being touched by someone—anyone—and I need to remedy that before I jump all over my brother’s best friend like the horny kid sister Archer portrays me to be.
“Napa is a small town. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
“Sounds like Silicon Valley, only with wine instead of tech.” He unscrews the cap on a metal water bottle he’s been carrying.
“So you get it. It’s why I mostly hang out here and work. If I’m going to make plans, I usually drive down to visit friends in Berkeley just to get away a little bit.”
He nods. “Anonymity is nice.”
“It is. But no one’s taking pictures of me on their phone and posting them every time I go to Starbucks.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “I haven’t been photographed at Starbucks…” he denies. “But that’s only because I never go.”
“Because you work sixteen-hour days.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. In your wildest fantasies about taking a day off, what do you imagine yourself doing?” If he says something that requires us to fly in a private jet to an island, I won’t be ableto pull it off, but maybe I could arrange a private tour of an exclusive winery or something. People are always trying to get a spot for a tasting at Oakville Farms winery, and they have a six month wait list.
“I know it probably sounds weird, but what I’d really like to do is just walk around a grocery store.”
My snort laugh betrays the absurdity of his request, but I quickly recover. “Sure. I can do my shopping. Win-win.”
“Ah, see? Your brother would never do this with me. He’d say he did enough grocery shopping during our college years to last a lifetime.” The comment brings me back to earth. This is not a date. I’m only filling in for my brother, who has better things to do than look at produce.
“Shopped for a lot of ramen back then, huh?”
“Yeah. And green apples. One per day.”
“Just to be clear, you’re in a region with world-class wines, and you want to wander the cereal aisle?” I use the excuse to stand from the bench and face him. Instantly, I can breathe a bit easier now that he’s not so close.
“Yes.”
“Okay, but we should go late at night or something, so no one catches you buying Kit Kats and blasts our snack choice on social media.”
“I’m more a fan of popcorn and Junior Mints.”
“Spoken like a man who spends a lot of time in movie theaters.”
His face falls into a blank expression.
“What? Don’t tell me you’ve never been to a movie theater?”
He offers a sheepish half smile. “Not never. But it’s been…years.”
“Oh my gosh. What do you do for fun?”
He forms his hands into a triangle, tapping his fingers together like he’s scheming. “This. This is fun. And I’d love to see a movie. Is there a theater nearby?”
The question surprises me because I know he doesn’t want to get caught in public, but this is a small town, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
