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“And Jude was cool with that?” No one told Jude Morgan how to run his business.
“Of course, honey. We all love you, and no one in this whole town deserves that whopper of a commission more than you and Bailey.” She patted my hand where it rested on top of the bar.
“Now spill. How was the first day of shooting?”
Chapter 5
Wilson
Ileanedontherailing and looked out over the grapevines growing in the meadow below. After salvaging the shoot a few days ago at the donkey brewery with an apology, I expected smooth sailing today. All business all the time with my real estate agent, exactly how it should be.
Stephen had again done my makeup and dressed me. I plucked at the chambray shirt he had put me in. It felt a lot like a costume. At least I’d talked him out of the bolo tie. Poor Cameron. She’d been stuck in the wardrobe RV for at least twice as long as I had.
“Would you like to try our Sangiovese?” One of the staff from Bluebonnet Valley Vineyard held out a bottle for me to inspect. I’d tried a few Texas wines when I visited last time. They were as good as anything I’d overpaid for in Napa over the years.
“Sure, a small glass.” Getting sauced before the shoot would be poor form.
“Of course, sir.” She moved to the bar on the other side of the large wood deck that served as a tasting room and filled a glass for me.
When she returned, she waited, almost bouncing on her toes, to see what I thought. I did my best impersonation of a wine snob. Swirl. Sniff. Sip. Swish. Swallow.
“Nice color. Good fruit. Eminently drinkable.” When you lived in California, you learned the lingo. And I wasn’t being fake; it was a legitimately enjoyable wine. When we wrapped up today, I’d buy a few bottles to take back to the rental house. It would go nicely with the locally raised Wagyu steaks in my fridge I planned to grill this week.
“You ready for today?” Kate asked, sliding up beside me with her glass of red wine.
“Sure. Cameron and I got things sorted out last time. We’re good. I don’t think today will be any different.”
“Excellent.” She held up a glass.
“To house shopping,” I said.
“To good ratings,” she answered.
We clinked our glasses.
Behind me, I heard the RV door slam and turned with Kate to see Cameron in Stephen’s newest outfit. While she wasn’t looking, I took my time studying her. The outfit was a bit of a costume like mine. A longer suede fringed skirt that hugged Cameron’s killer curves and a navy blue silk blouse with a low V. The shirt showed off more cleavage than I was entirely comfortable looking at all day, especially knowing what was underneath. I had spent my life in the beauty business, surrounded by gorgeous women. But there was something about Cameron that did things to me. Unprofessional things.
I chugged the last of my wine and craned my head, looking for the vineyard employee. I needed fortification because a day of trying not to look down Cameron’s blouse would be a unique kind of hell.
Kate exhaled loudly and took my empty glass. “I think one is enough. Let’s get you set up with a mic, shall we?”
Grumbling, I followed Kate across the parking area to a grove of trees.
Our set for today was a bit more elaborate than at the brewery. A cluster of hay bales draped with colorful wool blankets arranged next to a series of planters made from halved wine barrels with a profusion of spring flowers.
“This is impressive,” I said to Kate.
“It wasn’t us. After the shoot at Stubborn Donkey, I think the vineyard didn’t want to be outshone by some cute animals. So, they set all this up for us.”
“Elmer people are so nice. I think they actually like the tourists.”
Kate arched a brow. “No town likes tourists. I grew up in Florida; trust me on that.”
I laughed. This place was nothing like Disney World. Or was it?
“Kate is right, and so are you.” Cameron joined us, along with a sound guy who worked hooking up our mics. “Some residents love the outsiders, and some hate them. But the money from all the visitors helps keep our downtown square vibrant. And people like you that buy and build big vacation houses keep the big developers with the zero-lot-line neighborhoods away.”
I smiled, embracing the idea that I could help keep this place small and quaint. The urban sprawl of Austin wasn’t far away, and I’d hate to see a place like Elmer paved over.
