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“Can I get you a glass?” she asks, gesturing to the bottle.
I look over, notice theSomervillelabel and wonder if it still tastes as good as I remember. It’s not that it’s been long since I had a glass of their stuff; it’s sold in Australia. I just don’t know when the place changed hands or whether that’s impacted the quality.
I’m also not sure how alcohol is going to react with my jetlag, but fuck it; it’s five o’clock somewhere.
“Sure,” I say, finishing off my coke and taking a seat. “So, when did you take over this place?” I ask, remembering she never answered my question when I asked her earlier.
Ellen smiles as she grabs another glass and pours me some wine. “About two years ago,” she says, topping up a third glass that’s sitting on the bench. “But I’m only in charge of the admin side of things,” she says. “My sister runs the actual vineyard. That’s who you’ll be working for.”
“Okay,” I say, reaching for the glass she offers me. She’s got a weird look on her face, almost as if she’s laughing at me. “And am I going to meet this sister of yours anytime soon?” I ask.
She nods and almost immediately, the sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards signals her arrival.
“Speak of the devil,” Ellen says as a set of long tanned legs walks into the kitchen. I feel my eyes tracing a slow path up bare, sun-kissed skin, a pair of cut-off denim shorts hugging curvy hips and a tight black tank covering an impressive chest, long blonde hair hanging over one shoulder
When I reach the face however, and the deep blue eyes that are currently squinting back at me, I can’t stop the grin that breaks out, especially when I catch thewhat the fuckexpression plastered all over my new boss’ face.
“Hey Lulu,” I say as I raise my glass in her direction.
Oh fuck me; this is going to be fun.
Chapter Two
Lauren
The look on his smug tanned face is exactly as I remember it fourteen years ago as he sits there staring at me from the stool at my kitchen island.
What in the literal fuck is he doing here!?
“Ellen, can I speak to you please?” I ask through teeth clenched so tightly that I swear I’m going to chip a tooth. “Alone,” I add, now looking directly at that kangaroo-loving shithead. I always liked to believe he got lost in the bush somewhere trying to find that giant rock they all rave about over there. But I wasn’t that lucky because he’s now sitting in my kitchen.
Ellen follows me to my bedroom and I slam the door behind her, not making it any secret that I’m severely pissed off.
When she told me she had found someone to fix our crusher and destemmer machine, I didn’t question it any further. The damn thing has been on the fritz for the last year and no matter how hard we’ve tried, we have yet to find some who can figure out what the hell is wrong with it.
I’m pretty sure if I had to listen to one more joke from a mechanic about stomping the grapes with my feet, I was going to lose it.
So original. ThanksI Love Lucy.
But those lame ass jokes are looking like a much better solution than having Jack Wilson involved. Honestly, I would even consider stomping grapes with my own feet right about now over my current option.
Who would’ve thought you could carry a deep hatred for someone after all these years?
“This is who you hired?” I demand, my hand flying at the closed door. As I listen voice I feel myself tense at just the sound of his accent. He’s ruined me on foreign guys forever. “He’s calling the kids ‘mates’ right now, Ellen.” I huff indignantly.
This is all her fault.
“Hold up.” Ellen’s hands are up defensively. “I had no idea this was who they were sending and…”
“Bullshit!” I shout, cutting her off and not caring in the least if Jack hears me. “There’s no way you didn’t know. Why would you do this to me?” I moan, my voice coming out whiny and high, and I realize how immature I sound.
“Seriously, Lauren, I didn’t know. I contacted his father’s old company and they set everything up from there. I literally haven’t been in touch with him until this point.”
I roll my eyes dramatically and begin pacing the room wondering how I can get Jack to take a hike without actually speaking with him, without ever seeing his face again.
And as I obsess over this, I realize I’m going to have to throw out my beautiful Pottery Barn stools that I just bought because he touched them. His stupid ass was sitting on them! Fuck, what else could he be touching right now? I gotta get out of this room before I have to burn my entire house to the ground.
“Geez, Lauren, you’re being incredibly irrational,” Ellen says, as I try to storm past her. She catches my arm and glares at me, her eyebrows knitting together and her lips pursed. “Grow up, and for the love of fuck, remember you’re a professional.”
