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Jamie scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“What did she say?”
“Who?”
“Tessa.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Eric threw his hands up. “I can tell by the way you’re looking at me that something’s up. So tell me what she said.”
Tessa pushed through the doors. “What who said?”
“You,” Eric snapped. “You told him.”
“I did not! I said I wouldn’t say anything and I didn’t.”
“Hey!” Jamie barked. “Care to clue me in here?”
Eric could suddenly see the truth on Tessa’s face. She hadn’t said a thing. Shit. “Nothing. You were just giving me a weird look.” Boy, that didn’t sound guilty at all.
“I was looking at you weird because I thought everything was cool between us, but you’re growling at me like a pissed-off bear. What the hell’s wrong with you?” What was wrong with him? His conscience had poisoned him and turned him into an idiot. “Nothing,” he finally said. “We’re good.”
“Hard to tell these days,” Jamie muttered. “So what are you keeping from me now?”
“Nothing,” Eric snapped.
Jamie looked at Tessa, but she shook her head and shot Eric a wary look.
Eric sighed. “I’m sorry I was in a bad mood. It has nothing to do with you. Really. So how long before you can try out the oven?”
Just as Eric had hoped, talk of the oven distracted Jamie. “Tomorrow at the earliest. We’ll let it warm through today so we can try it out tomorrow. I’ll have to mix up a batch of dough myself. Unless someone else is willing.” He gave Tessa a significant glance.
“Oh, fine,” she groaned. “I’ll make the dough. Have you settled on a recipe yet?”
“I’ve got it narrowed down to a few. But Olivia recommended I wait until a chef is hired so I can get his or her input. I’d like to have somebody with their own brain, since I’ll need guidance.”
Great. Another strong personality in the building. Eric shot a look at the tank room. “Just make sure whoever it is gets along with Wallace. We don’t need two temperamental creative types in here. Speaking of which… Where is Wallace?”
Jamie and Tessa shrugged, so Eric went to look, happy to have a chance to escape. Wallace wasn’t in the tank room or the bottling room. It wasn’t like him to not show up. Heck, it wasn’t even like him to stay gone on his days off.
Eric headed to his office to check for a message from Wallace. There was nothing on his phone, so he paged through his emails before finally pushing back in his chair and checking his desk. And there it was on the far corner. A letter.
Wallace was off to California. Faron had discovered that her husband had cheated with someone she’d asked him not to date. She was done. So Wallace was off to help her pack. To declare his love. To bring her back.
“Good Lord,” Eric muttered. “Seriously?”
This was a firing offense. Wallace couldn’t just walk out on the tanks for however many days because he was lovesick.
Eric looked over the letter again. He’d be gone for three days. Maybe four. Eric would have to drop all his office work and take charge of the tank room.
His scowl faded a little. He’d have to spend hours in there, scrambling to cover Wallace’s duties. He’d be stuck in the tank room for the rest of the week.
A slow smile spread across Eric’s face and he felt a strong urge to rub his hands together. Four days would be more than enough time to get a small test batch started. Something fun. He’d have to see what supplies Wallace had on hand. He’d also have to be careful not to use too much of Wallace’s special stock of ingredients, or the man would be on the rampage. He’d be unhappy with the intrusion regardless, but he’d just have to deal with it. After leaving them in the lurch, Wallace would deserve to be upset. Still, maybe the sexually liberated weren’t so bad, after all. As a matter of fact, maybe Eric had joined the ranks himself.
He wanted to jump up and get to the tank room immediately, but he made himself answer emails and shift his schedule around to deal with distribution problems first. Nearly two hours passed before he could manage it, but he finally sli
pped into the tank room and closed the door.
