Page 63 of This Time Around
My dad gave me your number so we could plan our shopping. So excited!!!!!!!!!!
Ah, it must be Paige. Allie smiled to herself, then glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after eight, and she wondered if the girl was already snuggled in bed or if she got to stay up late watching movies or playing games with her grandma. She typed out a quick reply:
I’m excited, too! Can I look at my schedule and talk to your dad and text you some possible times tomorrow?
The little bubbles popped up on screen to tell her the girl was typing a reply.
YES!!!!!!
The word was in all caps and followed by a string of more colorful emojis. Allie smiled and tucked the phone in the pocket of her fleece. She hesitated at the door, listening for the sound of howling cats. It was silent, and she wondered if Jack had finished and slipped out to go home. She hadn’t actually invited him to stick around, and he’d probably be eager to get back to his place and tuck his daughter in for the night.
As she made her way down the hall barefoot, she realized she was psyching herself up to find him gone. She turned the corner into the kitchen, simultaneously relieved and annoyed by her relief at seeing those broad shoulders hunched over the counter. His tie was rolled up on the counter with his cufflinks at the head of the coil like a pair of snake eyes. He’d tossed his suit jacket on a chair in the corner, and rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal impressively muscled forearms.
“Hi, Jack,” she said, smiling a little as she remembered the shared joke they had in high school.
He turned and grinned at her. “Hijacking is illegal,” he said, and held out one of her grandmother’s good Riedel wineglasses. “So is allowing a woman to have white wine dumped over her head but never letting her have a glass for herself. Here.”
He tipped up a wine bottle and filled her glass nearly to the brim with pale straw-colored liquid. Allie leaned back against the counter, a dark chocolate granite her grandmother had picked out when she’d remodeled eight or nine years ago. The cupboards were original, and Allie had helped her grandma paint them a honey-hued off-white just a few years ago. God, it felt weird to be here so much without her.
“You thinking about your grandma?”
Allie blinked, then nodded. “How did you know?”
“This kitchen reminds me of her. All the antique copper over there and the vase of dried roses.”
“I always thought it was the prettiest room in the house,” she said.
“It is. I think that’s why it reminds me of her.”
A soft warmth spread through her, and Allie lifted the wineglass to her lips. “Wow. This is terrific.” She took another small sip, feeling her shoulders relax for the first time all night. “Where’d you find it?”
“The backseat of my car.”
“The backseat of your car must be a different place now than what I remember.”
He laughed, and Allie felt a faint flush creeping up her neck and into the cheeks. It was probably the wine, or maybe the realization that she’d fallen back into the habit of flirting with Jack Carpenter without even realizing it.
But he was smiling at her and didn’t look uncomfortable with it, so Allie relaxed and took another small sip.
“True enough,” Jack said at last. He lifted his own wineglass in a mock toast to her. “Actually, I picked up my wine club shipment earlier today. Just hadn’t gotten the chance to take it home yet.”
Allie caught the bottle by the neck and turned the label toward her. She recognized it as the same one adorning the wine he’d brought the night she’d hosted him for dinner.
“Amy worked on a documentary with these guys.” She turned the bottle to show Jack the label. “The film was about women in the wine industry, and Sunridge Vineyards is managed by a woman. Several women, actually. I think it’s a family-run thing.”
“I didn’t know that.” Jack took a sip of his wine. “Some buddies and I did a golf trip near there a few years ago. Joined the wine club on a whim, so I get shipments a couple times a year.”
“Nice.” Allie sipped from her glass. She knew a bit about Oregon vineyards, enough to be aware that a bottle like this cost a lot. She thought about remarking on it, but decided against it, not wanting him to think she was hung up on money.
Suffice it to say, Jack must be doing very well.
“Amy must be doing well for herself.”
Allie blinked, alarmed that he might have read her mind. But that was ridiculous. “She is. She works with this amazing producer, Kate Geary. They’re the ones we met with about that other project—the one about women in prison?”
“The one good ol’ Wade put a stop to?”
“Quit it.” She gave him a good-natured whack on the chest. “Wade is a very good friend. And he happens to be on a date with Skye tonight.”
