Page 46 of Merlot Marriage

Waggling his eyebrows, he walks away, his whistling echoing back through the cabin as he leaves.

I keep chuckling to myself while I finish my makeup and mess with my own hair before I go meet Cassie. I need the moment alone to remind myself that she can’t know about us. And that there is no “us.” It’s just sex.

Sex with a man who makes me feel safe and seen.

No big deal.

I know I should tell him about the potential job with Zimmerman, but now isn’t the time. Either I can surprise him with the good news, or he’ll never need to know about yet another failed job lead. I’m sure he’s done plenty of interviews while I’m at work that he hasn’t told me about for the same reason. We only tell each otheralmosteverything. But this is fine. No big deal in the grand scheme of things, since we’re both applying to as many jobs as possible.

Pushing it from my mind, I finish getting ready and wander up to the tasting room.

By the time Cassie strolls in, I’m waiting for her with a chilled bottle of riesling and two glasses in hand. I’ve been eyeing a table in the far corner of the outside patio, praying that no one else takes it. It just happens to be as far away from the bar, and Philip, as possible.

Ophie

I barely pay attentionto Cassie’s story about TJ’s sunburn. The yellow jacket that’s been hovering near her for the last twenty minutes has landed on a curl of her hair, and I can’t decide if I should tell her, flick it off myself, or wait and see if it flies off on its own.

I’ve seen what Cassie does around regular bees, so I can only imagine the flailing and shouting that will happen if I say something. As long as the little fucker doesn’t get any closer to her neck, I’ll leave it.

“Ophie? Are you even listening?”

I pull my eyes away from the black-and-yellow insect. “You were telling me about the giant piece of skin you peeled off TJ’s back, and I was thinking about how utterly disgusting that is.”

“Oh god, it was soooooo satisfying.” Cassie giggles before finishing off her glass of wine. “This is so good. Why haven’t we come here more often?”

“Because we were too busy trying to graduate?” I take another sip from my glass, enjoying the crisp, high-acid flavor. “Us poor grad students had neither the time nor money to come to a place like this.”

The wasp zips from Cassie’s hair to the table, landing once again on the empty charcuterie platter sitting on the table between us. She doesn’t seem to notice it as it crawls over the edge closest to her.

“Some of us are still technically too poor to come to this kind of place.” My tone is sharper than necessary as I swirl my glass, the half inch of wine left inside barely moving. If job applications were still on paper, I’d have leveled a forest with the number I’ve filled out. “Not all of us had a job waiting for us as soon as we graduated.”

I look up to see a hurt expression on my friend’s face. “Shit, I’m sorry, Cass. I didn’t mean it, I promise. I’m just frustrated with the job search, that’s all.”

Giving me grace, she pats my hand. “I know. It was just luck, really, that my internship last summer turned out so well.” She picks up her glass to take a drink, then sets it down again when she sees that it’s empty. “Still no luck?”

“I actually have an interview tomorrow with a place that seems really interesting, except that it’s on the East Coast.” I tell her the rest, including some background on Penny Zimmerman.

“What’s wrong with that? You don’t have anything keeping you here in Portland, not really.” Cassie shrugs, slapping her hand down on the table, mere inches from the damned yellow jacket.

“Yeah, but my whole family is here.” I glance around, trying not to look in Philip’s direction. “My life is here.”

Cassie rolls her eyes. “Be for real, Ophie. It’s a great opportunity. Besides, you haven’t even done the interview yet.Why are you saying no before you even know if you like the woman or not?”

“But—”

“I’m just saying, don’t write off an opportunity like that just because you don’t like change.”

The yellow jacket, which had been busy making sure the platter was truly empty, changes direction, taking off from the plate and flying right at my face.

I squeak and twist in my seat, hoping it’ll fly past me, but the wasp lands right on my chest. Now it’s my turn to avoid reacting as its tiny legs tickle my skin. Cassie is shouting at me not to move, but all I want to do is flick it off me. Another voice, a man’s, calls out, but I don’t listen. All my attention is on the fucking bug that is making its way toward my cleavage. I’m generally a “live and let live” kind of gal when it comes to bugs, but not when they’re trying to get under my shirt.

“Don’t move.” A large hand reaches toward my chest, and I squeak again. “I’m sorry, ma’am, please don’t move.” A thick finger reaches even closer, brushing the wasp away from my skin. I’m more surprised by a strange man touching my breasts than the angry wasp buzzing in response.

I jerk, the hand in front of me twitches, and the yellow jacket flies angrily in my face all at once. “Pork ’n beans, that smarts. Ma’am, hold still and I’ll get it.”

“How am I supposed to hold still when there is a very angry wasp inches from my face?” My words come out stilted, my eyes crossing while I try to keep an eye on the insect. “Are these guys the ones that will call their buddies?”

“Don’t move, Ophie!” Cassie sounds far away, like she ran from the table. Which is exactly what I expect happened.

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