Page 12 of Love on the Vine
“Franchement, Jake, I’d marry him tomorrow, but my father insists on throwing a big party so it can be in all the papers.”
“Well, I’m happy for you, Lucie. Shocked, but happy.” I only half heard what she was saying during the rest of our conversation. Her news had really thrown me for a loop. I wasn’t jealous—just completely mystified that someone so determined to remain single would want to tie herself down to a man she’d just met.
Relationships had always been a mystery for me. Anytime it got serious with someone, I’d pull away. I preferred to keep physical relationships separate from the rest of my life. It was easier that way. No messy emotions, clear boundaries. The way I approached everything in life.
I only had the example of my parents to go by, and that was a disaster. My dad was a serial cheater, and I could never figure out why my mother didn’t leave him. They’d both been miserable, and I didn’t want to end up that way.
Then, unbidden, the photo I’d taken of Charlie and Janet Peterson popped into my head. Okay, sure, they’d been crazy about each other, but they were the exception that proved the rule. For most people, relationships were temporary distractions, destined to sour. Being alone was better. At least then, the only person you had to worry about disappointing was yourself.
I hung up with Lucie and a burst of laughter downstairs reminded me how very far from alone I was right now. The house suddenly felt too crowded. The summer stretched out in front of me like a long path of burning coals I’d be forced to walk over again and again. A hot cloud of dread filled my stomach, and I closed my eyes.
I could do this. I just had to take it one step at a time. And keep my eyes and my hands to myself.
Chapter 5
OLIVIA
As soon as Jake was out of earshot, Jin slid onto the barstool next to me and slumped his head into one manicured hand while the fingers of the other hand played invisible scales on the marble countertop. “So? Tell me everything.”
When I’d imagined Jake’s assistant, I’d pictured someone gray and somber in an expensive suit with a starched collar. Jin was anything but that. Not only did he look like he’d come straight from Paris Fashion Week, but he was also extremely friendly and direct. It was as if we’d known each other for years already.
Honestly, I’d completely forgotten that someone else was staying here this summer, and that I wouldn’t be alone with Jake. Not that I expected anything to happen there. He clearly couldn’t be less interested in me. I tried not to take Jake’s eager disappearance personally, but I’d seen the relief on his face when he left the room. Again, I wondered if I’d made the right decision in coming here.
“Well, I’m from Grand Rapids, Michigan. I spent the last year working as a research assistant at an international law firm, but I’m thinking of going to culinary school this year . . .” I trailed off as Jin yawned loudly.
“No, I want to know what you’re doing here.” He tapped his hand against the counter and threw a glance behind his shoulder at the doorway where Jake had disappeared. “Tell me what you think about the boss. He won’t be back down, so don’t hold back.”
“Oh.” My cheeks grew warm under his scrutiny. Was it obvious I had a crush on Jake? “I don’t know him that well. He’s an old friend of my dad’s.”
“Ooh, daddy’s best friend?” He wiggled his brows at me. “Okay, this is getting better.”
“Best friend? No.” I tried to pretend I had no idea where he was going with the daddy references. “They hadn’t seen each other in years.”
“Uh-huh. Don’t ruin it for me.” He pressed his fingertips to his ears. “You were saying he’s your daddy’s best friend. And . . . ?”
“And he very generously agreed to let me stay here for a while. You know, to help you out.” It all sounded so unconvincing, and I tried to ignore Jin’s laser-sharp stare. “I don’t know much about wine and figured that if I want to work in food, I should be able to distinguish between a Burgundy and a Bordeaux.” I spun my glass nervously again. “Jake is obviously an expert and very accomplished.”
I’d done some research on his company, VosCo Wines, and had learned it was one of the leading European wine distribution companies in Asia. But, apart from a few quotes in big magazines likeFood & Wine,Condé Nast Traveler, evenVanity Fair, there wasn’t much about him online.
“Girl, you have no idea. Jake’s a Master of Wine, the youngest person to ever receive that distinction.” He shook his head at the confused expression on my face. “It’s only the highest distinction in the wine world. Like climbing Mount Everest.” He clicked histongue at me. “Almost everything I know about wine, I learned from him.”
“He was your mentor?” I asked, relieved that the focus had turned from me.
“You could say that. He saved me from a life of drudgery in finance. The person you see before you today would not exist if it hadn’t been for wine and Jakob Vos.” I waited for him to continue. I wanted to know more about Jake. He was like a puzzle that I was slowly putting together one piece at a time, and I still couldn’t get a view of the big picture.
But instead of sharing more of those puzzle pieces, Jin narrowed his gaze back on me. “So what do you think about his ass-ets?”
“I . . . I really haven’t thought about it.” My throat had suddenly gone dry. I coughed and poured myself some more water.
“Right, well, when you do, let me know.” He stood and adjusted his canary-yellow blazer over his shoulders. “I would stay and chat, but I haven’t slept all weekend, and if you’re not ready to spill the tea, I will fall asleep right here.”
“Okay.” As he sauntered off toward the stairs, I realized that no one had told me what time we started working. “Oh, Jin. When should I show up tomorrow?”
He shrugged. “Whenever. We’re always working.”
After Jin left, I waited for Jake to come back while poking around the bookshelves in the living room. There were mostly books on wine, philosophy, and history, but I found a small collection of science fiction novels that made me smile. I pulled out a well-loved copy ofThe Left Hand of Darknessand traced a finger over its creased spine while I surveyed the room.
After spending most of my childhood with my mom moving around, never having our own home, I excelled at reading spaces. There was something lonely about Jake’s house, despitethe rich furnishings, which looked like they’d been bought from a Sotheby’s auction. It didn’t seem like anyone lived here. Everything was in exactly the right place—contained and organized. There were absolutely no photographs, which was strange for someone who had been a photo geek back in high school. He must have given it up. Too bad. That photo that he’d taken of my grandparents was amazing; it now hung prominently in Gran’s living room where she could admire it every day.
