16. charlee
SIXTEEN
charlee
“You did what?”
A wine-tasting brunch with Natalie and Zoe seemed like a good idea on Friday. But now, not so much.
We were seated on the deck of our favorite vineyard, the Grado Valley Wine Cellar, our wine choices having already been made. Not that we didn’t know all the wines by heart, but variety was the spice of life.
Or so they said.
With men, it seemed, I wanted less variety and more of the “ex-boyfriend, left for ten years, became an Army sniper with a razor-sharp edge sure to cut me” thing.
“That was bad, right?” I verified.
“Oh, dear Lord.”
That was Natalie.
“What in the ever-loving hell were you thinking?”
That was Zoe.
“You didn’t hear what he said,” I tried, knowing it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. I wasn’t some green girl who had no idea how to deal with men. How to set boundaries for how I wanted to be treated. Yet here I was, taking so much more from him than I ever had with any other man.
He’d dismissed me. Showed zero gentleness so far. Or willingness to meet me halfway. Either we went with his plan or. . . I was cut off. Never to be spoken to again.
At least, that’s how he’d made me feel. But instead of a firm “fuck you,” I’d literally agreed to his terms with nothing more than a promise for him to be a bit more candid. Big fat whoop-de-doo. He would probably continue to answer the questions he wanted to answer, evade the others, and drive me absolutely freaking wild in the process.
“Tell us,” Zoe said as our wine was put in front of us. Four samples each.
I was gonna need more than that. “I’ll just go ahead and order a glass of the Brooke Blend now,” I said, realizing the purpose of the tasting but knowing already what I wanted too. Again, like my men.
Perry, the tasting attendant, knew us well. “Three Brooke Blends?”
“Ahh, what the hell, why not,” Natalie said.
It was a perfect fall day for wine tasting and ruining your life.
“He said. . .” I thought back, wanting to get it exact. “‘Let’s just say. . . there is a side to me that is very comfortable outside the limits of societal acceptance.’”
At least my friends had the good grace to appreciate that one.
“Okay then.” Zoe picked up her first wine. “I get it. Cheers.” She didn’t even wait for the two of us.
“The very first sign of a masculine alpha and you fold like a lawn chair?” Natalie asked Zoe.
“Yup.”
I loved that she was completely unapologetic. Natalie looked at me. I picked up the same tasting glass as Zoe.
“Also yup,” I said.
Natalie rolled her eyes. “You two are unbelievable.”
“What do you think he means by that exactly?” Zoe asked. A free spirit, not afraid to admit she liked men and sex, Zoe squinted as she thought about the question.
“Could be lots of things, really. First thing that comes to mind is rough play, of course.”
“That’s outside the limits of social acceptance?” Natalie asked. Apparently, despite herself, she was as invested as the two of us. “I don’t think so.”
“BDSM?” I asked.
“Probably. What else could it be?” Zoe speculated.
“The possibilities are endless,” I said. “I would know. I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday afternoon.”
“When you went to his shop.” Natalie finished her first wine and grabbed the second. “And then subsequently sold your soul to him.”
“And,” I added, “got a tattoo too.”
Zoe didn’t figuratively spit out her wine. Some of it actually dribbled from her lips as she tried to keep it in. Which didn’t help Natalie pull herself together. Natalie and I alternately sputtered and laughed at Zoe, at which point I raised my wrist and turned it over.
“No, you did not.” Natalie could not have looked more stunned.
“Holy shit, Charlee.” Zoe grabbed my wrist.
“A tattoo? Was that even on your radar?” Natalie asked.
“Not completely.” I showed them. “But I love it.”
Zoe laughed. “It? Or him?”
Since I couldn’t deny it, I kept my mouth shut on that one.
“I can’t believe he gave you a tattoo.”
“His first in the new shop,” I said, oddly proud of that.
“It’s for your ‘smooth sea’ quote?” Natalie guessed.
“Mmhmm.”
“Good choice.” Zoe picked up her second wine tasting glass. “How did you decide what to get?”
If I looked guilty, there was a reason.
“Spill, Donovan.” Natalie looked toward the entrance of the deck. A good-looking guy walked through with some friends. Her gaze followed him to his seat.
Good-looking, but he didn’t hold a candle to Lucas.
No one did.
“He designed it. . . on his own.”
“His own?” Zoe asked. “Like you told him—”
I shook my head. “All I said is that I was considering a tattoo. He did the rest.”
That surprised both women. “And he chose that?” Natalie asked. “To represent your quote?”
I finished my third wine taste and picked up the final one. “Yep. Also, why do we still try the wines when we know them all by now?”
Natalie was having none of it. “Oh no, you’re not changing the subject on us like that.”
“He remembered that you liked that quote?” Zoe looked at Natalie.
“That’s great. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s treated Charlee like shit since he’s come back. And now wants to ‘pretend date’ her for the sole purpose of ‘testing’ her relationship with her father. Are you kidding me?”
“Nat,” I said. “I’m right here by the way.”
“Fine.” She addressed me fully. “Are you kidding me?”
“Can we talk about the fact that he’s kinda right?” Zoe dropped that bombshell on us both. “What?” she said when we stared open-mouthed at her. “I work for your dad, too, and get it. He has a. . . way about him. Gets what he wants. I couldn’t imagine being his daughter.”
“Did you tell Zoe about the VP thing too?” Natalie asked.
I hadn’t had a chance yet, but when I did fill Zoe in about my father’s offer, it didn’t go a long way toward redeeming myself. But maybe I wanted the job, and it wasn’t as much my father trying to manipulate me as it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
“I don’t know,” I finished. “Maybe I should have told Lucas to pound sand. Or Dad. Or both of them. I’m just trying to take it one step at a time and let my heart guide me.”
“Precisely the problem.” Zoe downed her last wine. “You need to be logical about this.”
Easy for her logical-minded brain.
“You guys think Lucas is a bad idea?”
“Yes.” They both said the word at the same time.
“At least, his stupid plan is a bad idea,” Natalie clarified. “Just tell him you want to either actually date, or even casually reacquaint, or nothing. Easy peasy.”
“I think it’s too late for that,” I admitted. “We sort of struck a deal.”
I told them about our “parameters” and listened to their objections. But at the end of the day, though I valued both women’s opinions, I had to do what I felt was right for me. It might not be how I’d go about the whole thing, but like Zoe said, Lucas wasn’t completely off base. What would my father do when he learned Lucas and I were a “couple” again?
“Anyway, let’s talk about something else. Like that hottie who keeps checking you out, Nat.”
She let me change the subject this time, hopefully because she knew I was serious about staying the course with Lucas. And as for the job? There was no rush to make any decision now. A little while later, when my phone buzzed, and I looked at the number and read the text, my heart raced.
Since we’re dating. . .
And that was it. No follow-up text. Was he trying to kill me?
Unfortunately, I thought I knew the answer to that.
Finally, a second text came through.
What are you up to today?
Oh my god, oh my god.
Brunch with the girls
And then I waited. I was lost in my phone now. Lost in him.
Until?
Probably two or so
“Must be Lucas,” I heard Natalie say. I looked up, nodded, and then went straight back to watching my phone as if the fate of the world depended on it.
Where are you? Did you drive?
GVV. At the Wine Cellar. No.
Okay. I’ll pick you up at two.
I looked up. Was he serious? How did he know I even wanted to go with him? Awfully presumptuous of him. Yet, I liked his initiative too.
A lot.
This “new” Lucas did not fuck around.
“Oh man. She has it bad,” Zoe said to Natalie.
“She does,” Natalie agreed. “I just hope Lucas doesn’t break you,” she added to me. “Because I think he has the power to do that, and it scares me.”
Again, I couldn’t disagree. With one small caveat.
“I think, maybe,” I amended, “he’s broken me already.”