Page 23 of Crying Shame
He closed the cellar doors with a push of a button, nodded, and talked above the noise. “I did.”
When the hatch was fully closed, it was quieter. “I wanted to live someplace that reflects me without labels, but I always felt most at home in the Virgin Cove beach house.”
He walked me to a stairwell. I assumed he’d show me where he kept his wine, but I didn’t ask. “Me too. It was my favorite of your family homes.”
Our shoulders bumped as we descended some steps. At the bottom, he said, “You look nice.”
“Thanks. The slacks honestly feel soft, and it’s different from my normal hiding in jeans.”
I was babbling. That wasn’t like me. and I wasn’t getting to my point at all.
He laughed and opened a door for me. “Well, you can wear whatever you want, so don’t feel pressured because of me.”
Inside there were huge stainless steel barrels much bigger than the wooden ones I’d imagined stored wine.
I gazed around, but neither of us moved. “I don’t stress over your opinion of me.” I needed to bring up the issue of his money. Instead I coughed and asked, “So what were you doing before I joined you?”
“I was pressing grapes.”
The huge machine turned grapes into wine. I tilted my head and smiled. “Do you have something like in a movie where you can do that with your feet?”
He laughed. “We can if you want. I’m sure I can find a barrel.”
I had no idea why I was so nervous that I was asking about silly things. I imagined myself falling face first into a vat of crushed grapes. “I don’t want to turn purple today. So how does this whole operation you have work?”
He tapped one of the containers, and we walked to a machine. He loaded some crushed grapes. “This is stainless steel, which is my personal preference for how to make wine.”
He set a wine bottle on a tray and pressed a button on a nearby vat. We watched the machine pour wine into a bottle. “So you just hit a button?”
“Yeah.” His face was red “After I check all my ingredients are in correctly.”
“Oh. Seems hands-off.” I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to get myself under control. Nerves ruined careers and probably ruined real-life plans too. My heart was racing, and I didn’t need it to do that.
I backed toward the door as I realized we might be in a room with no windows. He took the bottle from a belt and got two glasses. I pointed for us to go up the stairs.
He nodded, and I took the glasses from him as we slipped upstairs.
As we did, I glanced at his profile and realized how handsome Elon was. At twenty, he’d been fit but thin, but now he was all muscle. His shoulders were still broad and his waist trim, creating a V-shape. But it was the kindness in those blue-green eyes of his that had haunted me for years.
My lips tingled to kiss him.
I took a deep breath, and my heart pounded. I was babbling because I was attracted to him. I shouldn’t be. Hopefully, he had no idea of my thoughts.
“Well, I use my hands for delivering babies," Elon said. "So with automation of the grapes, I’m not so worried about my patient.”
Outside the air smelled sweet. I took a few deep breaths, and he led me to a small table and some chairs on the other side of the building. We sat. “It’s great you became a doctor, just like you said you would.”
He poured a glass of wine for me and then for himself. “You’d have made a good doctor, as you’re caring.”
I clasped the glass. “I’m good as I am. I don’t need that kind of pressure.”
He held his glass up. I swallowed and reminded myself Elon was capable of making my dreams for Sam, where he was safe and loved and seen for who he was, come true. I relaxed and decided to table the discussion about money. Elon had not made any crazy purchases today, and I hated to ruin the good mood.
Once we clinked glasses, he said, “So I’m hosting a benefit for women’s health.”
“Yeah?” I sipped his offering. The wine tasted smooth and delicious. I wasn’t sure how he'd done it.
He folded his hands on the table. “I’d like your help.”
