Page 3 of Taurus

Chapter two

Parker

Thesunisbrighter here in Georgia. I’d be willing to bet my life on it, because when I step into the kitchen it’s shining through the window so intensely I recoil and squint my eyes like I’ve been shocked.

“Jesus Christ,” I huff. I know I’m being a whiny brat, but my emotions are at ten and I just want to get all of this over with so I can start the healing and mourning process. Until I can do that, until I can have things in order, I’m simply in managing mode.

“No, he’s not here right now. It’s just me,” a deep voice says from the small breakfast nook just off to the right of the kitchen.

“Funny, because the Austin I remember would have happily made a joke about he, himself, being Jesus.” I open the cabinet just above the sink and pull out a coffee mug. “Is there coffee?”

“I only like being called Jesus, or God, in very specific scenarios, Park,” he teases and it makes my insides twist around, and I hate myself for it.

I watch as he rises from his seat and I’m finally able to get a good look at him in the morning light. That was a big, big mistake. Just seeing him makes feelings I haven’t felt in years come rushing back. It’s the Austin Kane Effect.

I roll my eyes at his arrogant response, reminding myself I left this place for a reason. “You’re incorrigible. Just point me in the direction of the sugar and go put on a shirt. What are you doing up here anyway? I thought you had the apartment downstairs.”

He shakes his head with a smile and pulls a jar of sugar from the cabinet next to the one I opened for a mug then pours himself more coffee.

“I do, but I have always just made my coffee up here every morning. I got into the habit, I guess,” he says then turns back to face me. “Here,” he motions for my mug, “I’ll fill you up.” He realizes what he said immediately and apologizes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out as inappropriate as it did.”

“Maybe not, but you can’t help yourself. Some things never change. I have a lot of questions for you about you being here, you know? It’s very odd for me.”

He adds a bit of milk to his coffee then leans against the counter, watching me while I tend to mine.

“What?” I ask him. “Why are you staring?”

“I guess I’m just surprised to see you here. I mean, I knew you’d come out eventually, but part of me wondered if you actually would.”

“He was my grandfather and this place is mine now. I am and was the only family he had left. Someone needs to be here to settle everything he left behind, right? Which leads me back to the question that I had last night and again this morning. Why are you here?” I know I’m coming across as callous and bitchy, but call it my personality. I lost my grandfather, gained a vineyard, and am now forced into a situation with the cause of the worst breakup of my life. I’ve earned a little bitchiness.

He sighs heavily and sips his coffee before answering. “I’ve lived here, on the vineyard, for the last two years. I’m the manager here. I do a little of everything. I lead tours, make the staff schedule, enter payroll…”

“What? Why? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the confidence in my abilities.” He snarks back then sighs. “When Warren got sick, he needed help running things around here. He didn’t want to give up what he was capable of doing but he needed someone hands-on. I came on full time to help him.”

I want to be angry that my grandfather called my ex-boyfriend to help him, but I know why he did. Austin worked on the vineyard for years while we were together. He’s experienced and local. I understand, but that doesn’t mean I’m not bitter about it.

“But why would he call you? After everything that happened between you and me, and the things he said to you that day, I’m shocked, honestly.”

“He was defending his granddaughter. I can’t and don’t blame him for the things he said. I made you cry. I hurt you.”

The memory of the final fight we had before I left for good makes my heart ache deep in my chest. It chisels away at the wall of concrete and anger I’ve so carefully built around it.

“Parker, about what happened—” he continues, but I stop him immediately.

“Nope.” I raise my hand in surrender. “I can’t do this right now. I don’t want to talk about it yet. I have too much happening in my brain right now to even consider crossing that bridge.”

“You’re the one who just brought it up, Park. I’m following your lead here.”

“Look, I know I brought it up, but I don’t want to talk about that right now. I just want basic information. I can only process simple things right now.” I plop into a chair at the small table.

“Fair enough,” he replies, “The long and short of it is, Warren needed help running everything. I had experience and was looking for work. It seemed like a good fit.”

“So, you lived here?”

He nods. “In the basement apartment. We’ve established that a couple times.” He smirks, trying to smooth over the tension between us.

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