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“Yes,” he says. “It has been. And yes. I want the mansion quarters.”
“Great,” I say. “I ah… I haven’t cleared out my mother’s things.”
“I wondered about that,” he says. “I can do it.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Donate what you don’t want. And my mother’s car. It’s yours. Sell it. Keep it. Whatever you want. I’ll sign the title over to you.”
“We’ll authorize additional staff as well,” Nick says. “Someone to report to you but do what Faith would have done to support you.” Nick grabs a paper napkin. “Can I borrow your pen?”
Kasey removes it from his pocket, and Nick sets it on his knee, then writes down a number and a percentage, showing it to me for confirmation. I nod at the numbers that equal a substantial—and deserved—pay increase for Kasey. Nick slides it in front of him. Kasey looks at it and then between us. “Very generous. Thank you. And on that note, I’m going to go check on the work crew.”
Nick quickly adds, “Coordinate with Rita to get a new team out here to start the repair process.”
He gives an incline of his chin, stands up, and leaves. “Could a historical marker be a reason to want this place?” I ask when he disappears around the corner, while Nick sends a text message.
“I don’t know enough about that topic to say, but we’ll find out. I just told Rita and Beck to investigate in different ways, but I’m doubtful. Otherwise your father would have done it on his own and pushed up the value of the winery.”
“Unless it costs a lot of money to do it, and my mother was gambling then, too,” I say.
He glances over at me. “Good point.”
A thought hits me. “And I’m officially brilliant,” I murmur. “I just gave him the only working car I have.”
Nick turns to face me. “Don’t get angry, but—”
“You had it fixed.”
“Weeks ago, and that old car is beneath my woman. We’ll buy you something you want that I know is safe.”
“You can’t just—”
He leans in and kisses me. “Give him both cars, Faith. And if you don’t want something new, there are two cars to choose from.”
“You’d let me drive your Audi instead of your BMW?”
“Fuck. I must be in love, because yes. I’ll not only let you drive it; I’ll let you call the damn thing your own if you—”
I lean in and kiss him. He cups my head and slants his mouth over mine, his tongue licking into my mouth before he glances at his watch and says, “It’s half past. You should be naked and riding my cock right now.”
“That’s crass and horrible.”
“And it turns you on, right?”
I sigh. “Yes.”
He laughs. “Let’s get out of here.”
…
Leaving the winery behind in the many ways that currently apply comes with relief, but arriving to the house I’d bought as an escape from it doesn’t feel like an escape anymore. It feels like a part of that excuse this entire town had, unknowingly, become to me. Once we’re on the porch, we find packaging left by FedEx to package up my art. Nick and I pull them inside and start carrying the supplies upstairs. Once we set the first lot down, he heads for the stairs. “I’ll get the rest, sweetheart.”
Scanning the work I’ll soon ship off to L.A., my attention lingers on the painting of Nick—his eyes, and the secrets in their depths, my focus. I don’t have any secrets left. He knows who I am. He knows what I am, and yet he still holds back. I grapple with an array of varied thoughts and where they lead me, but Nick’s footsteps sound before I reach a conclusion.
I walk to the floor-to-ceiling window and stare out at the night sky, the canvas of a full moon and the twinkle of at least a dozen stars. Nick steps to my side, his hand at my waist, a possessive quality to his touch. “You need a studio like this in San Francisco. We’ll hire someone to build it, or we’ll just buy another house.”
I face him. “You want to buy a new house because of me?”
“I want a place that you feel is yours, not mine.”
