Chapter 4
It was 9:59, and I was sitting in my car, ready to go. The cake was already loaded, Dad stopped by and gave me a hand before he headed to survey a new construction, and I needed to hit the road now. Where the hell was Nero?
My phone buzzed with a text from Sherry. I opened it to a video of a woman’s attempt at a unicorn cake only to hilariously fail. I laughed, sent a quick reply, then glanced in my rearview just as Nero’s Porsche came to a stop at the edge of my driveway. Ten o’clock on the dot. He hopped out of his car, long legs covered in a pair of jeans and paired with a navy-blue thermal that hugged all the right spots. Damn him and his too perfect genes.
I flattened my hair with my palms, hoping to control some of the flyaways. I would have showered, but I had to remake my damn cakes last night after I couldn’t remember if I put sugar in or not. After baking and hoping for the best, I took a tiny sample that only confirmed my biggest nightmare. I forgot… sugar. And it was all Nero Grasso’s fault.
My mind was too focused on this drive with him. I was desperate, so I didn’t argue, but as soon as I walked out of the tasting room, I realized how bad of an idea it actually was. Normally, I could ignore my crush and be friends with him or continue conceding that he was my best friend's older, very handsome, untouchable brother. But no. He had to kiss me! Damn him.
He held two coffees in his hand as he strode up my driveway like he didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I had so many tabs opened in my head, my brain felt like it was one thought away from malfunctioning.
I turned toward him, tapped my Fitbit, then waved for him to hurry.
He slid into the passenger seat with ease. His six-foot frame crammed into the barely-there leg room thanks to Sherry, who was last sat there.
“Here.” He thrust an Espresso Yourself to-go coffee cup at me. With his head practically in my ceiling, he used the controls on the side to adjust to a more reasonable position.
“You’re late,” I said.
“Good morning, Nero. Thanks for the coffee. How are you on this lovely day?”
I pursed my lips together and glared at the smartass.
“Sorry,” he said on a sigh. “Franc and Gio stopped by the tasting room and threw me off my shit. Then I forgot I told you I’d bring coffee, so I placed an order on the app, but Michael still hasn’t fully figured out the system yet, and Kenneth was doing damage control for all the people who were waiting for their coffees that were never made.
“I bet that was a fiery conversation.”
“Kenneth kept telling Michael he needed to stick to coffee and let him handle everything else.”
A giggle slipped from my lips. I loved those two. “I’m sure by the end of the day they’ll kiss and make up.”
“They always do, but not before Kenneth slips in a few zingers.”
“Oh, to be a fly on the wall.”
Nero glanced over his shoulder. “I thought we were running late. You’re giving me crap, and we’re still sitting here.”
“Well, someone doesn’t have their seatbelt on yet.”
With a shake of his head, he grabbed the belt and clicked it into place. “Happy now?”
“Very.” I put my car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Once on the road, I lifted my coffee to my lips and took a tentative sip to make sure it wasn’t too hot. The dark roast hit my tongue, and I sighed at the joy it brought me. I moaned as I took a full sip and prayed it would be enough of a caffeine boost to get me through the day.
I placed the cup in the holder and caught Nero’s gaze on me.
“What?” I asked, swiping at my mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”
He cleared his throat. “No, sorry. I… no.”
I wasn’t used to him not being direct. Even yesterday in the tasting room, he seemed off, especially when I made the comment about the kiss. He was usually so quick-witted, but yesterday he lacked the speed. He turned his head toward the window, his body moving with him as if he was trying to get as far away from me as possible.
I brushed my teeth. I could still taste the mint, so it couldn’t be my breath. “You’re acting weird. What gives?”
“I’m not acting weird.”
“Bullshit. I’ve known you most of my life. I know when you’re acting weird.”
“It’s nothing. Just something Franc said. I can’t seem to let it go.”
“What’d he say?”
“Nothing worth repeating.”
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin. “I think you don’t want to repeat it because he hit a nerve—something he and only a few others can do.”
He shifted in his seat. “How’s your coffee?”
If he wanted to change the subject, I wasn’t going to stop him. “Amazing as always. I swear Michael puts some sort of voodoo magic in each cup that leaves me addicted.”
Nero laughed and covered his mouth.
“What’s so funny?”
His eyes cut to me, eyebrow arched, an adorable smirk on his sexy mouth. “I’m just picturing Michael in the back lighting candles and pulling out a spell book.”
“And Kenneth walking in, staring at him, one hand under his chin, the other waving around.” I mimicked the movement and continued. “Saying my mother warned me about you. I thought she was being her bitter self and then I find you acting like Nancy from The Craft.”
He choked and sputtered on his coffee. “I can’t unsee this now.”
A laugh burst from my lips. “Me neither, but why am I envisioning Michael with Nancy’s black wild curly hair?”
“Next time I see him, I’m telling him about this.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“How else are we going to convince him to dress up as Nancy for the Halloween party?”
“Then be prepared to be recruited. He’ll want the ensemble cast.”
He slumped into the seat. “Good point.” His lips hovered over his cup, and I imagined those lips hovering over me, preparing to completely rock my world. I bit my own lip and let myself get lost in the fantasy
He nodded toward my dashboard. “Your check engine light is on.”
The stupid light came on about two weeks ago, and I’d been happily ignoring it. It was better to live in denial than bring my car to the shop, only to find out I’d need to sell a hell of a lot more cakes to fix the damn thing.
“I know. It turns on and off.”
“Have you brought it in to be looked at?” he asked.
“Not yet.” I needed to get through the end of the month and then I would worry about it.
“You should.”
“I will.”
“You’re lying.”
My eyebrow rose. “So who’s your favorite character in The Craft? You know, in case Michael takes this idea and runs with it.”
“Don’t change the subject. You’re lying. Why?”
I hated the demand in his tone, but what I hated even more was the concern. The last thing I needed was for Nero to be concerned about something he didn’t need to bother himself with. It was my car, my responsibility, and when I had the funds, I would take care of it.
“I’m not lying,” I reiterated.
“You touched your ear.”
“Excuse me?”
“When you lie, you touch your ear.”
My eyes drifted from the road to him. “Wait. How…”
“Really, Lanes. Like you said. We’ve known each other almost our whole lives. I notice things.
I didn’t think Nero noticed anything about me, and it’s not like the ear touch was a secret. My brother called me out for it all the time. But Nero never had.
What else had he noticed? Maybe I wasn’t as invisible as I thought I was.
If he knew I was lying, then there was no point in keeping the charade going. Besides, whether he knew me or not, I knew him, and there was no way in hell he was going to let this go so easily. I didn’t need to tell him everything, though.
“The light came on two weeks ago. I’ve been ignoring it.”
“Then why the hell are we driving all the way to Philly? We could have taken my car.”
A laugh burst from my lips. “Oh, because there’s so much room in a two-seater Porsche. I can barely fit in that car.”
“I could have taken the Jeep.”
“The amount of gas we would have used if we took your Wrangler. Are you insane?”
“Like I would have had you pay for gas.”
“Exactly, and you’re doing me a favor, so I wouldn’t expect you to pay for the gas.”
He turned his head on the headrest, and though I couldn’t see him, I could feel his eyes boring into me. Heat spread up my neck and into my cheeks.
“Are you having money issues?” The sincerity in his tone would have brought me to my knees if I were standing.
“No.” I glanced at him, and his eyes lingered on my hand that fell from my ear. Damn it!
“Lanes, if you need money—”
“No!” The word burst out of me like an egg rolling off the counter, fast and explosive. “I mean. I’m fine. I’m figuring it out.”
“You just have to ask.”
“I will be fine. I just wasn’t expecting my oven to take a shit on me and for my rent to go up. It’s one month. I’ll be fine.”
“How much do you need?”
“Nothing. I need nothing.” I hit the brakes as the cars in front of us slowed to a stop.
“Lainey, you need money. I have money. Stop being ridiculous.”
“I have worked for everything that I have. Unlike other people, I don’t take handouts.”
The skin along his jaw tightened. The air shifted, a heaviness falling between us. “Like me, you mean.”
My head snapped toward him. “What? No, that’s not…”
“You don’t have to say it. I know what people think and maybe they’re right, but I thought you of all people… actually, I don’t know what I expected.”
“Okay, hard stop, buddy.” I let go of the wheel and made the universal sign for timeout. “I never said anything about you.”
“You didn’t have to. I can read between the lines. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
“Well, you’re reading the wrong space because in no way, shape, or form was I calling you out.”
“Are you sure about that? I know what people say. I’m a trust fund baby who has the least vital job at the winery. Everyone else earns their share and I—”
“Do more than your fair share,” I bit out. He always did that. Always downplayed his importance to the success of the winery. So he didn’t make the wine or oversee the day-to-day operations. He ran that tasting room like a well-oiled machine, making everyone’s experience a pleasant one. Even when they were crowded and shorthanded, he worked his ass off to accommodate everyone's needs without alienating a single customer.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m a glorified bartender.”
Frustration turned to empathy. My heart cracked, and if I wasn’t driving, I would have thrown my arms around him and assured him he was so much more than that.
Instead, I rested my hand on his knee and squeezed. “You have no idea, do you?”
“What are you talking about?”
A horn beeped behind us, and my eyes refocused on the space in front of us. I eased off the brake and rolled forward.
I glanced back at Nero, then focused on the traffic. “You act so confident all the time. I’ve been jealous of you, wishing I could have a sliver of your self-assurance. And you don’t realize how amazing you really are.”
“I don’t need you to blow smoke up my ass.”
I waved my hand in the air. “I’m sorry, do you see smoke anywhere? I sure as hell don’t. There’s nothing to blow. I’m speaking facts. You aren’t a glorified bartender. You are the heart of that winery. People come there again and again because you’re behind that bar.”
“People come because Franc makes world class wine with Rhone’s help. Laurent and Chardonnay run a tight ship that reflects positively on all levels of the place. Sherry executes amazing events. Rose is a master at PR and getting our family run business out to the country and—”
“And you charm the hell out of every single person who comes up to that bar for a tasting or a glass. You provide them with detailed knowledge for each wine on the menu while also giving them someone to converse with and maybe even unload their burdens of the day. You are just as important in the winery’s success as anyone of your siblings, so knock that shit off.” Frustration and anger swirled inside of me as each word came out more determined than the last. If he wouldn’t see himself for who he truly was, then I would let him know I saw him, and I wouldn’t let him diminish himself in front of me. Not now and not ever.
“What is with this fucking traffic?” he blurted.
And because I knew him, I knew he was done with this conversation. My stomach dipped in disappointment. Any outsider would think Nero loved himself. Classic case of a narcissist. But what they didn’t see was it was all just a mask he wore to deflect.
“You’re never going to make it in time.” He thrust his hand through his hair and let out an angry sigh.
“Why do you think I left extra early? I anticipated traffic.”
“This isn’t traffic; this is a goddamn shitshow.”
“I’ve been in worse. One time, Austin and I had to deliver a cake to Jersey. There was an accident on the turnpike where a tractor trailer carrying cases of oranges flipped on its side and the cases all wound up in the roadway. It was shut down for hours.”
“You’re making this up.”
“I absolutely am not. Then there was the time we drove down to Ocean City, Maryland and there was some car race going on in Delaware, and we got stuck on this road for three hours at a complete standstill. The people next to us popped their trunk, took out lawn chairs, and set them up right there in the street. So until I see lawn chairs, I’m not worried.”
Nero turned his head toward the back. “Is the cake going to be okay?”
“It’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s the middle of August. Worst-case scenario, I’ll have to put the AC on a little higher. I should have told you to bring a sweatshirt.”
“Have you looked into getting a refrigerated truck?”
I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling. “I can’t even afford to fix this vehicle. What makes you think I could afford a refrigerated truck? Do you have any idea how much they are? I don’t even think selling body parts on the black market would help.”
“I’m sure you could find a used one at a reasonable price.”
“I still wouldn’t be able to afford it. Besides, I couldn’t possibly take out another loan. My credit score is already in the garbage from the last loan.”
“I can give you the loan; then it won’t show up on your credit score.”
“You know. I thought you changing the subject meant you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. But you just didn’t want to talk about yourself.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The glint in his eyes said differently.
“I told you. I don’t want your money.”
“But you can pay me back with no interest.”
“No.”
“Fine, one percent interest.”
“Nero Francis Grasso, don’t make me hurt you.”
He held his hands up, that adorable smirk tugging playfully at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll stop. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself trying to hurt me.”
I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to retort.
“But just because I’m done talking about it doesn’t mean the offer is off the table. Just say the word and the money is yours.”
“It’s going to get pretty dusty sitting there.”
“A little dust never hurt anyone.”
The traffic came to a stop again, and Nero let out a loud grunt. “I could run faster than this.”
“Tell you what. You get out and do that, and I’ll pick you up when the traffic clears.”
“I don’t understand how you can be so calm. You have dozens of hours in that cake.”
“And getting frazzled isn’t going to get me or the cake there any faster.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Austin and I always play a game to occupy the time and our minds. Want to try it?”
“What game did you have in mind?”
“Would You Rather.”
He pulled down the sun visor and adjusted on the seat. “Okay, I’ll go first.”