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“You don’t think I could prank call someone?”
What in the actual hell was coming out of his mouth now? His competitive streak was humming, sure. But Hallie obviously thought he was stodgy and boring, and for some reason, he couldn’t let her leave with that impression of him. Even if it was true.
He’d never placed a prank call in his life.
“No, I don’t think you could,” she responded, studying her nails. “Julian Vos, St. Helena wine royalty, prank calling a local vendor? Unheard of.”
That did it. Now he had no choice. “Very well.” He unearthed his phone from his back pocket, smirking when she slid the advertisement across the island in his direction, propping her chin on a bent wrist and pursing her lips, clearly skeptical that he would go through with it. And really. Why was he engaging in this behavior? To impress this woman he had no business spending time with? Or was it actually just to make her feel better after she’d cried?
Because even minutes later, the knot underneath his collar remained very opposed to her crying. She was too . . . jubilant. Too bright for that.
This woman should be happy at all times. He was intelligent enough to know that one person could not be responsible for another’s happiness. Not completely. But he found himself wondering what it might be like to fill that role for Hallie. In another life, obviously.
A full-time giver of Hallie Smiles.
Suddenly he valued his teaching tenure a lot less.
Stop being ridiculous.
“Put it on speaker,” she said, her doubtfulness beginning to lose ground.
Doing as she asked, he raised an eyebrow at her and dialed the number.
Her mouth fell open.
A young man answered after the fifth ring. “Hello, this is UNCORKED.” Music blared in the background. “We’ll get you drunk and tell you you’re pretty.”
Julian and Hallie traded a withering look. It struck him that this one little act of rebellion had turned them into teammates of sorts. Temporarily, of course. “Yes, hello,” he said briskly. “This is the health department. I’m afraid I have some very bad news.”
A pause dragged itself out. “The health department? Why . . .” Sputtering. “Bad news?”
“Yes, we’re going to have to shut you down.”
It appeared Hallie’s legs were no longer working. Hands slapped over her mouth, and the upper half of her body fell across the island for support. “Oh my God,” she wheezed.
“What are we being shut down for?” whined the gentleman.
“It’s the disco ball.” Hallie’s sides started to shake with laughter, making it nearly impossible to keep a straight face. Or his cold, dead heart from doing the cancan. “According to section fifty-three dash M of the health code manual, you’re in direct violation of the public’s right to avoid bad dancing.”
A sharp curse. “Another prank call? Are you working with that woman—”
“Yes.” Julian hung up, neatly setting down his phone. “And that’s how it’s done.”
Still unable to subdue her laughter, Hallie laid a hand across her chest. “That was . . . like . . . the Cadillac of prank calls.” Pushing off the island, she looked at him as if through fresh eyes, before shaking herself slightly. “Thank you. With the exception of the friends I’ve dragged into this rivalry, I’ve felt pretty alone in my outrage.”
He’d made her feel less alone. On top of provoking one of her Hallie Smiles.
It feels like Christmas morning. People were always saying that, but he could never relate, because opening presents with the Vos family had been a quiet and hurried affair.
He could understand that phrase better now.
“It’s no problem,” he said succinctly.
They nodded at each other for an extended moment. “Well, you have my word that I will never again make fun of the Jeopardy! message board warriors.”
His lips jumped. “Then I suppose my work here is done.”
As soon as he said the words, he sort of wanted to take them back. Because she appeared to interpret them in a way he hadn’t intended. As in, time to go.
With a nod, she said, “Bye, Julian.” She passed him on the way out of the kitchen, leaving soil and sunlight lingering in the air. “Have those drinks. You definitely earned them.”
All he could do was incline his head stiffly, turn, and follow her to the front door.
He watched through the screen as she reunited with the howling and yipping dogs, who celebrated her existence all the way to her truck. He traded a long look with her through the windshield when she climbed into the driver’s side and slowly realized she’d never told him how they knew each other. Or where they’d met.
The tick of Julian’s watch reached his ears, distracting him, and his chest grew tight enough to make his vision narrow. How awry had his schedule gone since she showed up? He had no clue. In an attempt to center himself, he pressed his ear to the ticking watch on his wrist and forced himself to concentrate on minutes. The next few hours in front of him. He couldn’t change the ones behind him.
