Chapter 18
Sherry
After a few bumps in the road, the garden club brunch went off without a hitch.
Even Tabitha Singleton had nice things to say about the food and wine pairings the next day, and that ancient woman never had anything good to say.
So I took it as a victory and reminded myself as I dove headfirst into the Carmichael wedding.
My eyes scanned over all the notes Domenique had sent me in a hundred-and-thirty-two-page email attachment. My printer ran out of ink. She sent me every idea she ever had since she was five, which resulted in an incohesive mess of ideas and no actual direction.
I had two months to pull off a damn miracle.
I would. The events and wedding end of the business was my brainchild, and it was my chance to finally display it on a grand scale and make Grandma and Grandpa smile down on me for carrying on the family name.
Rose came into my office and plopped into the chair on the other side of my desk, her phone in her hand as she scrolled.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Hang on one second.” Her fingers flew across her screen as she tapped away. Then, with one final tap, she dropped her phone on her lap. “Sorry, had to respond to a comment.”
“No worries. How was the bridal shower?” It felt as if all she did was go to bridal showers. “This is what? The third in the last two months?”
“Fourth. It’s never-ending honestly. And they’re all the same. They each try to be different than the last, but there’s only so much you can do.”
“Just be grateful you never have to plan one,” I said.
“Yeah.” There was an unexpected sadness in her tone. My eyebrow arched. She and Wyatt had been together since college. They loved each other fiercely, and they both didn’t want to get married, despite my attempts at selling them a wedding right here at the vineyard.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine.” Her voice was overly cheery. I wanted to poke, but I remembered I didn’t want to talk about anything to anyone, so I gave her that courtesy.
“I just wanted to show you the pictures from my recent photoshoots that’s going to focus on the wedding season.
” She reached to her bag, which was still on her shoulder, and pulled out her tablet.
She tapped the screen a few times, then turned the tablet to me. “What do you think?”
Staring back at me was a beautiful table setting, complete with a cascading floral centerpiece, vintage wineglasses, and soft blush linen napkins folded into roses. Beyond the table, the barn was in full view, twinkle lights highlighting the natural wood and open space.
“Oh, this is gorgeous! Did you do this? The setup?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Maybe you should have my job.” Rose had always staged photographs, but her skills had been evolving, and now she had her own personal style that was a mix between classic elegance and rustic romantic charm. Not an easy combination to pull off.
“I could never do your job. Too many little details to keep track of, not to mention the people. I do better with those who are behind a screen. If they piss me off, I can just flip the screen the finger, and they’re none the wiser.
You, on the other hand, have to put on a happy face and smile through their bullshit. ”
“And people say you’re the sweet one,” I joked.
“Compared to you and Char, I’d say that’s a fair comparison.”
Rose picked up her phone again and started tapping away. She froze mid scroll. “Wait a second.” Her brows knitted together over the straight bridge of her nose. “I knew he looked familiar!”
I leaned awkwardly over my desk to try to get a glimpse at her phone. “Who?”
“Ben. It’s been bothering me for months.
I thought he just had one of those faces, you know?
But I have seen him before, just not in person.
” She turned her phone to me. “His face was all over this brand a couple of years ago. A private wine label. Really sleek and modern. Limited batch drops. Full of influencer buzz. The whole aesthetic. I followed them because their branding was on point. They were gaining so much traction and then bam… they just disappeared.”
I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “He told me about it. Said something with distribution issues caused the whole thing to shut down.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed. “Really? Interesting. I remember whispers about a messy investor pullout or mismanagement.”
“You think he lied?” At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised. I was starting to wonder if I knew Ben at all.
“Doubtful. You got the information right from the source’s mouth. I got it from crazy internet sleuths. It could have just been people making up stories. But because I am one of those crazy internet sleuths, I will dig a little more. It’s been some time, so I’m sure there are new theories.”
I laughed. “Should I be worried you’re about to spiral down some conspiracy rabbit hole?”
“I live in the rabbit hole. Though I do come out for lunch. Breakfast. Dinner. Whenever there’s food involved, really.”
The tightness in my chest eased, and I smiled. Rose had that way about her. Bringing calm to my unease. My heightened suspicion was casual curiosity for her. But casual or not, she would dig, and if something didn’t sit right, she would dig deeper.
Ben might be holding back from me, keeping secrets, but I had Rose on the case.
If there was more to Ben’s past. More than what he had already told me. I wanted to know.
Even if it hurt.
“Keep me posted,” I said as Rose stood, her eyes locked on her screen as she started her descent into the rabbit hole.
“Sure thing.” Without looking up from her phone, she walked out of my office.
I thought about digging into things myself, but I had a wedding to plan, and the entirety of my career depended on it.
***
Outside, I greeted the delivery driver for the dessert table rentals—vintage crates, tiered cake stands, and a donut board. It wasn’t the usual driver I had come to know very well.
“You Sherry?” the driver asked. He was much younger than Murray, tall with an easy smile. Tattoos marked him from wrist to under his black fitted t-shirt.
“I am.” I held my hand out. “I’m assuming you have my goods?”
“Alec.” He took my hand and gave a strong shake before releasing me. “I have all the goods. My boss said, somehow, you will make these crates of mismatched pieces works of art.”
“Murray flatters me, only because he’s trying to sneak some samples out of me.”
“Does it work?”
“Every time.”
“I need to start then.” He winked, lifting a crate like it weighed nothing, and followed me toward the barn. We were halfway there when Ben appeared around the corner, clipboard in hand and a deep furrow between his eyebrows.
He glanced up, eyes locking on mine, then he spotted Alec, and his steps slowed. Alec cracked another joke, something about trading labor for the cupcakes that would go on the stands, and I laughed.
Ben didn’t say a word as he passed, but his eyes glued to me. His jaw tightened, and something sharp flashed in his gaze. Jealousy, maybe.
Too bad he didn’t have the right to that emotion.
“Ben,” I said matter-of-factly, as if his nearness didn’t affect me at all.
“Sherry.” His voice clipped, eyes flicking to Alec before settling back on me.
“Everything okay?” I asked, making sure to put extra sugar in my tone.
“Fine.” But by his tone, he was anything but fine. “Just doing inventory.”
Alec glanced between us, catching onto the tension. “Hey, man. I’m Alec,” he said, shifting the crate onto his shoulder and holding a hand out.
Ben hesitated but accepted the shake. “Ben.”
“I’m just dropping off the rentals. May have been offered free samples in exchange for some flattery. Not that it’s hard to do.” Alec winked at me, and Ben’s knuckles turned white on his clipboard.
I nearly laughed. Alec had no idea he was stoking a powder keg, and I didn’t mind.
“Well,’ I said, stepping between them. “That flattery deserves a treat. I have some samples from The Cakery I think you’ll love.”
A smile curved on Alec’s face. “You’re speaking my love language.”
A noise came from Ben. It wasn’t exactly a growl, but it might as well have been.
“Just place those on the far left, and the samples are in the kitchen. All the way to the back, you’ll see the door,” I said to Alec, who nodded and headed inside. Then I turned to Ben. “If you’re done with inventory, I could use some help inside. Unless you have some more growling to do.”
His gaze snapped to mine, intense but completely unreadable. “I didn’t growl.”
“Do you normally make sounds like that? I never noticed.”
“Do you normally flirt with the delivery men? I never noticed,” he shot back.
A laugh burst from my lips. “Flirting? Is that what you think that was?”
He stepped closer, his heat wrapping around me. “Anyone with eyes or ears would have.”
“What you saw was a friendly interaction between two people. Besides, what if I was flirting with him? What’s it to you? You had your chance. Now you’re going to get pissed when someone else is nice to me? You don’t get to be jealous.”
Our eyes locked, and neither of us spoke. The air hung heavy between us, sucking the oxygen from my lungs, but I refused to back down first. If he wanted to walk away again, then I wasn’t going to stop him.
His jaw clenched, a slight tick in the tight skin. “I didn’t expect it to bother me so much.”
“You should have thought of that before you pushed me away.”
“I didn’t push you away.”
“Bullshit. You have been using flirt tactics with me since we slept together in October. Then you amped them up on New Year’s. You said exactly what you wanted from me and once you got it, you ran the second things felt real.”
He thrust a hand through his hair, the sleeves of his t-shirt straining against his muscles. “I pulled back because I had to. I couldn’t have sex with you again.”
“Don’t try to hit me with some noble bullshit.
You think I’m mad at you because you didn’t sleep with me?
I’m mad because you shut me out. There’s something going on with you, and you won’t let me in.
So don’t stand here and act like it was some righteous act.
At least you can do is admit the truth. You got scared, maybe afraid you’d have to show me the real you, and maybe I wouldn’t like what you had to show, but you made that decision for me, didn’t you? ”
His green eyes darkened. His mouth parted, and his jaw tightened, as if the words he was about to say physically pained him. “You’re right.” He inhaled, then his gaze darted to mine. “I was my decision, and I chose wrong.”
I blinked, not expecting him to fold so easily.
“I had my reasons, and I thought I was protecting you. In the end, the only thing I succeeded at was hurting you. That’s on me. No excuses. No noble spin. I fucked up, plain and simple.”
Relief flooded through me, but my mind was stuck on his words. “Protect me from what?”
“Me. The dark cloud that has followed me for so long, it’s now a part of me. You deserve sunshine, even the calm before the storm. Not the destruction the storm brings.”
“That sounds a little dramatic.”
“It’s not. You have no idea what I’m mixed up in.”
His voice dropped with the weight of whatever he was keeping from me.
I stared at him. At the man who could charm a room, who knew exactly how to touch me, kiss me, and see me.
“Then let me in.” I took his hand, savoring the warmth, and squeezed it. “Tell me.”
“Sher, I can’t. Not yet.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. When I figure it out.”
I dropped his hand and stepped back. “Let me know when you do. But like I already told you, don’t expect me to wait around for you.
You didn’t like seeing me with Alec, then figure your shit out, because there’s only a matter of time before I say yes to someone who doesn’t look at me as an afterthought. ”
The storm in his eyes intensified. “You’re not an afterthought. You’re every thought that runs through my head even in my fucking dreams. You’re always there. You’re just not in my arms.”
“I could be.”
“I know.”
For a second, neither of us so much as breathed. The weight of everything, his secrets, my heartbreak, the tension we kept pretending didn’t exist, pressed down so hard I thought the ground might crack beneath our feet.
“Then why aren’t I?” I asked, my voice no more than a whisper.
“Because the minute I pull you close, I won’t let you go. If something happens to you because of me…”
I stepped in closer, so close I could practically feel the pain radiating from him. “You’re not protecting me. For whatever reason, you’re punishing yourself, and dragging me through it in the process.”
“I’m sorry.” The war in his eyes told me he wanted to choose me, but something was holding him back.
“Then fix it,” I pleaded.
“I’m trying.”
“That’s not good enough,” I said.
I closed my eyes, breaking the hold he had on me, and gave him a taste of his own medicine. I walked away.