Page 2 of Pour Decisions
OHMIGOD!
The reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator car show someone who can’t possibly be me. I mean, it’s my dress, but no way is that nest of tangles and disarray my hair. And the raccoon eyed face with streaked eye makeup belongs to a stranger.
I can’t help but gasp once I see myself. My free hand flies to my hair as I attempt to pat it down before licking my finger and running it under my eyes to get the smudge under control.
“Crazy night, huh?” the girl asks. She looks nice when she smiles at me.
“You have no idea.” I smile back, a feeling of camaraderie developing, as though we’re sharing in a sisterhood of sorts.
“Want me to zip your dress?”
“Oh, god, would you,” I breathe. “Thank you so much.” I turn my back to her, shivering slightly as her icy hands graze my skin.
“Looks like you had a good time.” She gestures to my neck.
I lean in closer to the mirror, inspecting the number of hickeys on my neck.
My first one-night stand.
My first hickey on other parts of my body that aren’t my neck.
“I did.” I smile, pivoting to face the front. A flyer announcing the WCWAIC competition hangs from a bulletin box above the button controls and snags my attention. My heart does a little flip knowing that starting tonight, I’ll be a part of that. And a competition like this one, where innovations in the wine industry are judged and awarded, could make a career for someone as small-time as me.
The car stops and the doors open, I make my way out to the lobby. Feeling proud for stepping out of my comfort zone and doing something so ordinarily out of character. Both in submitting to the competition and in a one-night stand.
“Bye,” I say to the girl as we part ways; she in the direction of the juice bar and me toward the exit. But as proud as I may feel in that moment, I still wait until I’m a block away before pulling up an app and ordering a car to come and take me home.
2
I pull up the messages on my phone to send a text to my best friend, Tess, and see all the pictures that she and Megan sent me the night before. Dozens of pictures of me on the dance floor with the guy from the hotel. And almost every single one they took is flattering. If it weren’t for the fact the girl in the photos is wearing the same dress I am, I might not believe it’s me.
This girl looks . . . hot.
Confident.
Sexy.
I’m not any of those things in my everyday life. Look up shy, mousy, and wallflower with social anxiety in the dictionary and there I will be. Which often makes me wonder how different my life would be if I were confident and sexy. Would I have a boyfriend? A better career? Might I have finally moved out of my mom and grandma’s house to live on my own?
Cause none of those things are true now.
I’m working on the career part though. This award will help that along. If I win, that is.
Tess’ words from last night ring through my mind.
When.
Notif.
WhenI win this competition, the recognition will help to further my career. The WCWAIC award is for showing innovation in wine making and selling techniques. Coming up with something that benefits the end user, i.e. the wine drinker, in a way that’s not been done before. It’s rare that a competition like this comes up, where the primary goal isn’t focused on something more traditional, like “Best Cabernet Sauvignon” or something along those lines. There's just this one for the west coast, and then I think one of the big wine magazines has a national one.
Winning should mean more sales, which means more money, which is all I need to get a place of my own. While I may love my mom and grandmother, I don’t need to be living with them any longer. I’m going to be thirty years old next year, I should have been out of their house six years ago. But they live where my grapevines live and I really love my vines.
I flip through more of the pictures with me and the guy who is so totally out of my league. As he kisses my neck, grabs my hips, laughs at whatever I’m saying. This girl has him captivated. How did I do it?
I dial Tess, hoping she’s awake.
“Toot, toot, and beep, beep,” she answers in a sing-song voice.
