Chapter 2
Sam
I turned off the ignition and sat there in my black leather seats, with my hands on the steering wheel. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out. In and out. “I can do this,” I said aloud, building up the confidence I needed to walk into this mixer.
I mean, I was almost thirty, and I hadn’t had a girlfriend. Ever.
So maybe I needed this.
I opened the car door and stepped onto the gravel drive. The building had wooden siding and shrubbery around the edges. Twinkle lights on the pillars led up to the entrance. Its metal construction gave the sign a rustic feel. The windows were dark and reflective. I came face-to-face with myself, brushed my hair, which never seemed to sit straight, and pulled open the door. Here goes nothing.
It was sensory overload. I felt butterflies as I looked around at the smiling people indulging in their wine. The age range was from early thirties to the seventies. My chances of finding someone to connect with seemed slim.
“Hi, welcome to Elysian Vineyards. Are you here for the mixer?” The woman who greeted me was stunning. Her brilliant blonde hair just twinkled, and the pink highlights matched her tight-fitting floral pink dress. Whether she was here for the mixer or worked at the winery, she was out of my league.
“Yes, Eric invited me,” I said hesitantly.
“Of course. And would you like a beverage? We’ve got soda, sparkling water, and of course, wine,” she said, her head bobbing from side to side as she smiled.
“Sure, I’ll take one of these.” I grabbed a can of cola and popped the tab. Next thing I knew, it was foaming and sputtering everywhere. I looked down, soaked, and a dark-brown liquid puddled on the stone floor.
“Oh, no,” the woman cried, setting down the tray of drinks. With a handful of cocktail napkins, she started patting my shirt.
I had mixed feelings about this. I appreciated her help, but I’d have rather just cleaned my shirt myself.
“It’s okay, I can take care of it,” I said over the jazz music playing in the background. She continued blotting my shirt and then moved downward toward my belt.
I stepped back from her touch, my face burning. “It’s fine,” I said again, desperately wishing I could disappear into the stone floor along with my spilled drink. She looked up at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read—surprise, maybe, or confusion. Most guys probably didn’t reject help from beautiful women at these things.
“I’m Eva,” she said, straightening up and smoothing her pink dress. Her smile seemed different now—less professional greeter, more genuine. “And I promise I don’t usually assault guests with napkins.”
Despite my embarrassment, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch upward. “Sam. And thanks for trying to help, even if it was, um, a bit…”
“Mortifying?” she asked. “For both of us?”
Something in her tone made me relax slightly, and I found myself looking at her properly for the first time. She had kind eyes, and there was something about her that felt… real, beneath all the mixer-hostess polish.
A loud voice suddenly boomed across the room—some guy announcing the start of the evening’s activities—and Eva excused herself with an apologetic smile. I watched her disappear into the crowd, then found an empty spot along the wall where I could try to collect myself.
My shirt was still damp, my hair probably even more of a mess than usual, and I’d managed to make a complete fool of myself within five minutes of arrival. Eric would laugh himself silly when he heard about this. Though I had to admit, maybe he’d been right about coming here after all, even if this wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind when he’d suggested I “put myself out there.”
I leaned against the wall, content to observe the mixer from a safe distance. Couples and singles mingled around the room, wine glasses in hand, making it all look so easy. I caught Eva glancing my way as she arranged a fresh tray of glasses at the bar, and when our eyes met, she gave me a small, conspiratorial smile.
Some first impressions are impossible to recover from. But as I sipped my replacement soda—this time opened with extreme caution—I found myself wondering if maybe this one wasn’t quite the disaster it seemed. Either way, at least I’d managed to make it through the door. For tonight, maybe that was enough.