“It’s amazing, totally decadent and vibrant.” He began nodding and smiling, seemingly thrilled at my satisfaction. “The acidity is perfectly balanced and it has such a full, earthy finish. It’s really fantastic.” He was watching my mouth again.
“I thought you would like it,” he said softly.
The brief moment was intense. It seemed like it would have felt completely normal to lean over and kiss him as a way of thanking him for the wine. I had to do something quick.
“R.J. hit on me like twenty times during the interview. I wish I liked him more because this place is wonderful and this wine is absolutely divine.” That definitely shattered the moment.
Jamie’s eyes went wide and the muscle in his jaw flexed. “He hit on you?”
“Yeah, big time.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“God, what an ass.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell Susan?”
“I think she heard him, but anyway, what good would that do?”
“Well, she might be able to straighten him out.” He was wearing a slightly penitent smile but I couldn’t understand why. “I’m really sorry he treated you that way.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault.”
He nodded slowly but seemed unconvinced. “What else did you talk about in the interview?” Jamie’s eyebrows were pinched together and his lips were completely flat. I wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. “Did he mention how hard we work here to make this place completely sustainable?”
“Yes, he did,” I said immediately and smiled.
He nodded. “Good, that’s good.”
“He just didn’t tell me much about his personal life. I was trying to find out about the organization in Africa.”
“The organization is great. It’s really grown over the last eight years, and it does a lot of good for people, especially children all over Africa.”
“I guess R.J. might not be so bad after all.” I reached for my glass and took the final sip of wine.
“Let’s move on. What can I give you next—something deeper, more full-bodied?” Somehow I forgot that Jamie was talking about wine. He was leaning forward with his forearms resting on the bar. He looked me right in the eyes so intensely that it felt like he was looking inside of me.
“Huh?” Now I was watching his mouth. He smirked very slightly.
“What would you like to taste next, Katy?”
“Uh, what?” My voice got really high.
“The wine, Katy. The wine,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh, right! Um, actually I’m famished, I think I really need to get to my room and settle in. I should get a bite before I have any more wine, otherwise you’ll have to carry me out of this place.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” he said. At that point R.J. had returned quietly and sat at the bar to finish his glass.
“Would you like me to walk you to your room? Or maybe you can use those investigative reporter skills to find it on your own?” He really was a smug bastard.
Before I could respond, Jamie chimed in, “Susan said she’d walk her up.”
“Well then, I must be going. Kate, I guess we have to give this another shot when I’m back in town on Thursday, although I don’t think either one of us is too thrilled about that.” He turned without addressing Jamie and headed toward the door.
I couldn’t hold back, and once he was out of earshot, I let out the sigh I had been holding back. “What a total jackass.”
Jamie nodded and then reached over and grabbed my hands in his. “Listen, forget about him—just write about the winery. We all love it here. He was being a jackass, but it’s not a reflection of what we do. Susan and Guillermo and I will show you everything that we do here.” There was urgency in his voice. “Listen, Katy, go up to your room and relax, I’ll have the chef send up something special. I’m really sorry about R.J.”
“Are you related to Susan?” I asked. He jerked his head back in surprise. “Well, I just saw the way you spoke to her, and it looked like she was comforting you.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I guess I would say that Susan has been sort of like a mom to me. She got me this job.”
“Huh, interesting.” I stood slowly from my barstool. “I have a lot of questions.” I said it softly, almost to myself, but I knew Jamie heard me.
“Let’s pick up this conversation later. Do you have any food allergies, or is there anything you don’t eat?”
“I’m a vegetarian.”
“Okay.” He smiled warmly at me. There was silence as we stared at each other. The connection was palpable. “Truffle mushroom risotto?”
I was in a daze, still staring into his eyes and he into mine. It felt like he was burrowing into the depths of my soul. He was captivating me, enchanting me with fancy names for rice dishes. I must have been very hungry.
“Is that hyperbole?”
“No.” He laughed. “It’s Chef Mark’s signature dish.”
“It sounds amazing.”
He paused then whispered, “You’re beautiful.”
“I have a boyfriend.” I whispered back.
“You mentioned that.”
Right at that moment my knees buckled, but luckily Susan had suddenly appeared at my side and grabbed me from around the waist, hitching me up.
“You need to eat, young lady. You’re a waif, and we don’t want you passing out on us,” she said.
I looked up at Jamie, who shrugged. “She’s right. Up to your room, young lady.”
Susan pulled me toward the door, and I turned and spoke over my shoulder. “Bye, Jamie. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“At least,” he said, grinning.
Walking toward the inn, I took the opportunity to drill Susan.
“Does Jamie ride a motorcycle?”
“No.”
“Is he in a band?”
“Not that I know of.”
“What about rodeo. Does he rodeo?”
She laughed. “Jamie does a great many things around the R.J. Lawson property. He is our resident jack-of-all-trades—you’ll see that for yourself over the next few days. And while I see you’ve picked up on some of his bad boy tendencies, he really is just a sweet, good ol’ boy.” Her smile flattened abruptly as she squared her small frame and looked me right in the eyes. “You should know that he’s like a son to me. He’s experienced great personal loss and betrayal by the people who were supposed to love him. He’s found a home and a family in this place. I hope you don’t come in here looking for some kind of story in all of this. Or maybe you’re looking for a fling? If so, you’re looking in the wrong place,” she said with a perfunctory smile.
“Whoa, Susan. Jamie seems like he can take care of himself,” I said. She shrugged. “Anyway, I was just curious. I have a boyfriend, by the way.”
“Who are you reminding of that fact?”
My eyes began to well up. She was putting me on the spot and embarrassing me, but I held back the tears. I was a professional.
“I’m looking for details for the article, that’s it. I’m supposed to be writing an article on R. J. Lawson and, well . . . you know how that interview went.” I said the last part with a huge lump in my throat.
“I’m sorry, Kate. He acted very inappropriately. That is not what we’re about here, and I’ve asked that he complete the interview via e-mail so you don’t have to go through that all over again on Thursday.”
“What? No! My whole reason for being here is to conduct the interview in person. I won’t get the answers I need if he can calculate all of his responses in an e-mail.”
She tilted her head to the side and then huffed. “That man has a very small role in the operations here.”
I pointed my finger up to the sky. “I knew it! It’s just his big, fat, stupid wallet, isn’t it? Everybody thinks he’s like this genius, but he probably just throws his money at everything.”
She took a deep breath. “I know where you’re headed, Kate. Look, the staff will show you around and let you in on how we run the winery, restaurant, and inn. It’s up to you what goes in that article, but I know by now you’ve heard that R.J. has veto power, so I hope you’ll think twice about how you approach your commentary.”