Page 3 of You're So Vine
Thing is, being a Durant means you’ve spent your whole life honing your poker face. Don’t let anything show and you’ll always have the advantage.
“My move?” I ask.
“Don’t eventryto out-bluff me,” says Chiara. “You’ve been looking around for him all evening because you’re still conflicted over how you feel about him. My advice is to stop wasting time and emotional energy and find out.”
She makes a valid point. I hate her for it.
“Have you ever seen Cam Hollander dance?” I ask.
“Never,” says Chiara. “But you’re hardly one to fall at the first hurdle. If he doesn’t want to, invite him to join you at the mulled wine station.”
“What if he says no? Again.”
I’ve no doubt that Chiara knows about the knock-back. It happened at the Crush, the big community event when the Flora Valley grapes are pressed. And though I was convinced Cam and I were alone when I asked him out, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chiara somehow made a secret video recording.
“He might,” says Chiara. “Then again, he might not. You’ll never know unless you try.”
Another valid-yet-hateful point. I used to think of myself as brave, but lately, I’ve been a giant weenie. One little “no” and I retreated into my shell like a snail. I can blame my physical state but that’s not what’s holding me back. It’s fear that his rejection signals some greater deficiency in me than simply being tired and worn out. What if my life has peaked, and at only twenty-seven, I’m on the downhill slide?
I wanted to know how I’d feel seeing him again, but to be honest, I don’t know. He’s over there with Shelby’s mother. Lee’s laughing and Cam looks like he’s won a prize. I don’t know what emotion I’m experiencing. Is it possible to simultaneously feel red-hot attractionandwhite-hot rage?
“He looks pretty busy right now.” My poker face is set to rigid, but unfortunately so is my jaw, and the words come out with full giveaway grit.
“Shelby says Cam and her mom have a special kind of friendship,” Chiara tells me.
“Howspecial?” I’m not even trying now.
Chiara shrugs. “Well, if Cam used more words a day, we might have found out by now.” She gives me a small and only partially evil smile. “Guess we’ll have to rely onyouto solve that little puzzle for us.”
She picks up her empty champagne glass and emits some kind of telepathic signal because in an instant, a young server is at her elbow. It’s also possible no signal was required because Chiara is the most striking woman in the place by some margin. She’s wearing a pale gold camisole top and matching wide pants under a cream silk blazer. On her feet are stiletto pumps. If you broke off the heels, you could use them as knitting needles. Beside her, I feel small, green, and crumpled. Like a leprechaun who’s had a hard night.
I look over at Cam again because I’m a glutton for punishment. He’s dressed in a shirt and tie, which he never is. His normal look is what my brother Nate calls “Survivalist Ken”, but that’s only because he’s jealous. Nate is six-feet easy, fit, and lean, but Cam Hollander is six-five and muscled like guys who do physical labor all day, every day. He has shaggy blond-brown hair and brown eyes. Shelby told me he’d been a soldier but said he doesn’t talk about that part of his life. Or any part of his life. He might have grown up in Wyoming, might not have, and I should really stop staring at him because he’s going to notice…
He’s noticed. Shit.
Okay, theworstthing that could happen now is that he nudges Shelby’s mom and they both have a good old chuckle at the cross, crumpled green chick.
He doesn’t. He nods, once, and the corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. So slightly, I could be imagining it.
“Move slowly,” says Chiara. “Softly-softly catchy big guy.”
I hate her for knowing me better than I know myself. But the only outlet for my irritation is a stack of breadsticks, so I reach for one and give it a good hard snap.
“Ladies and gentlemen.”
Best man Danny is dinging a wine glass with a spoon.
“The moment you’ve all been waiting for… The speeches!”
I need another drink, but only Chiara seems to have the mindpower to summon servers.
“Traditionally,” says Danny, “the father of the bride would give the first speech. At this time, we’d like you all to raise your glasses and toast the memory of Shelby’s dad and founder of Flora Valley Wines, the late Billy Armstrong.”
“To Billy,” we all say.
“And seeing as Billy couldn’t be with us today, we’re going to throw tradition to the wind and open instead with the mother of the bride,” says Danny. “Will you welcome to the mic, Lee Armstrong!”
Applause and a few wolf whistles. The very beautiful red-haired artist who does not look her age gets up from the table and because I’m watching like a hawk, I see her rest her hand on Cam’s shoulder as she passes by him. Could be nothing. She could have been caught a little off balance and needed to steady herself. To me, though, the gesture looked affectionate, purposeful.Don’t worry,it said.I’ll be back soon.
