Chapter 14
OLIVIA
I ran my finger over the material of the dress hanging against the wardrobe, hesitant to put it on. But what choice did I have? It’s not like I could wear my jeans to the sommelier competition.
We were leaving Savigny-lès-Beaune tonight and heading straight to the wine festival near Cluny that Jake had been roped into. He didn’t seem too thrilled about going, but I was looking forward to it.
I’d only brought two dresses suitable for an evening out—this one was the most daring—so of course Jin had chosen it when he packed my bag.
Black and formfitting with a slit up the long skirt, it displayed just enough cleavage to be sexy without being vulgar.
I’d argued that it was too much and I wouldn’t have the opportunity to wear it, but Jin had insisted.
Just like he’d insisted on packing my sexiest underwear and flimsiest sundresses.
Luckily, I’d thrown a pair of jeans and a couple T-shirts in my suitcase after he’d left, or I would have been working the vines in a miniskirt and halter top.
Taking a deep breath, I slipped the dress over my head and stepped back to check out my reflection in the mirror. Okay, so Jin had been right to choose it. If I had any hope of getting Jake to kiss me again, it was in this dress.
There’d been a moment yesterday in the vines when I thought that he might have been tempted . . . but no. It didn’t happen, even though the setting was perfect—the sun dipping down over the vines making everything glitter and gold.
He may not have kissed me, but he had trusted me enough to confess that he was struggling with his taste. That meant something, right? We’d grown closer over the past week. So close that I was the only person who knew his terrible secret.
It certainly explained his moodiness and—I hoped—his reluctance to eat my food. It must be devastating for someone whose whole career, and a big part of his identity, had been built on his taste. I only wished there was some way I could help him.
A knock at my door made me jump.
“Do you want me to take your suitcase?” came Jake’s low voice, and my heart fluttered as usual.
“Um, okay. Just a minute.” I quickly swept my hair into a low, loose chignon—the only updo I had mastered—and swiped on the red Chanel lipstick Callie—the queen of red lips—had bought for me in Paris. With one last look at myself in the full-length mirror, I opened the door.
Jake, devastating in a blue-gray suit, stood frozen in the hallway.
As his eyes roamed slowly over my body, sparks ignited over each inch of my skin.
Knowing I had left him speechless made me feel powerful in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
So this is what Callie meant when she said I needed to channel my inner sex goddess.
“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands over my ribcage and down my hips. “Jin packed my bag, so I can change if it’s too much.”
His mouth hardened when I mentioned Jin’s name like he didn’t know if he should yell at him or give him a raise.
“No, it’s fine.” His voice was clipped as he looked past me, a bit too deliberately disinterested, and I suppressed a smile.
He bent down to pick up my bag. “I’ll just take this and meet you out at the car.”
“Okay.” I followed him to the car where Claire and Clémence were waiting.
“ Tu es magnifique, ma belle! ” exclaimed Clémence. “Will you let me borrow this dress?”
Claire guffawed and pretended to check the dress size. “Even twenty years ago, I don’t know if you could have worn that. Not your style, my dear.”
“Too bad Stéphane isn’t here. You would have made his evening.” Clémence winked and dug her phone from her pocket. “Let me take a picture for him.”
“No photos,” Jake interrupted, a twinge of annoyance in his voice. “We’re running late.” He opened the passenger door for me and, after hugging the sisters, I slid into the buttery leather seat.
“You must come back for the harvest this year. Law school can wait!” shouted Claire as we drove off. I waved at them from the open window until they were lost from view.
“I’m sorry to leave so soon,” I said wistfully.
“I can always turn around and leave you there, if you prefer,” Jake teased.
“Tempting, but I’d miss the pool.”
“Just the pool?” He wanted me to admit that I’d miss him. A hum of pleasure went through me, but it was bittersweet. It made me think again of his lonely childhood and of his parents always leaving him.
“Well, maybe the cat too.” I touched his hand, and for once he didn’t pull it away. “The company, it goes without saying.”
* * *
The sommelier competition was held in an actual chateau—an enormous turreted stone structure with pointed slate roofs, a drawbridge, and a moat with the requisite pair of swans floating in it.
By the time we arrived, the grounds were already teeming with young sommeliers, in various textures of black—their hair smoothed, posture straight, impassive expressions on their faces.
On the drive over, Jake had told me about the year he’d spent preparing for the sommelier certificate by following a strict regimen of desensitization: He didn’t eat spicy food, gave up coffee, and even changed his toothpaste and shampoo to the most neutral versions he could find.
“It had been stressful at the time,” he explained. “I felt I had to prove something. I didn’t know who I was then. If I had to do it over again, I would have enjoyed it more and not given a damn about what anyone else thought.”
I wanted to find out if he was anxious about tasting tonight, but before I could ask, we heard someone call his name.
“There you are Jake.” Louis came barreling down on us, his dark hair slicked back and polished shoes clicking over the wood floor. He embraced us both, his gaze lingering over me. “I’m glad you brought your colleague.”
Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Jake looked like he wanted to punch him.
Louis ushered us over to the judges’ table in front of the stage where a man in a sleek black suit was waiting. He flashed a set of brilliant white teeth as came toward us. “The man himself, we were beginning to despair of ever seeing you. We thought you might not show.”
Next to me, Jake stiffened. “No such luck.”
The stranger turned to me, assessing. “And who is this lovely young woman?”
“Olivia Peterson, this is Thomas Brinkley,” Jake said as Thomas pressed two cool kisses to my cheeks.
“Oh, nice to meet you,” I said, inhaling sharply as Jake’s warm hand glided over my waist, angling me closer to him.
So this was the infamous Thomas. With his blond hair, blue eyes, and easy, extroverted charm he was the opposite of Jake in every way. But honestly, I could hardly make heads or tails of the guy because Jake’s possessive hold on me was making me dizzy.
As it was, I could barely string two words together whenever he touched me, but with his strong arm circled around my waist like he was staking a claim, it was a miracle I was still standing. My legs had turned to Jell-O, and I had to wrap my own arm around him so I wouldn’t be thrown off balance.
The tension between the two former-friends-turned-rivals was so intense that it was a relief when Louis called them both over and I could take my seat in the audience.
I tried to concentrate on the competition, but not only was it in French, there was also lot of mysterious wine jargon being thrown around.
So I focused on the performance of the competitors, who were mostly around my age or a bit older.
They moved with such grace and seriousness that it was utterly captivating.
I was fully invested, so much so that when one knocked over a glass, I gasped along with the rest of the audience.
When I wasn’t admiring the choreography on stage, my eyes were drawn to Jake. He was unreadable, giving no indication about how he felt being in such close proximity to his former friend.
Thomas, on the other hand, could have won an Academy Award for his performance, his face registering one exaggerated reaction after another like he knew that the ladies were watching him instead of the nervous competitors.
At one point, he caught me looking at him and winked at me.
Big mistake. The last thing I wanted was to let on that I knew anything about his feud with Jake.
Jin had told me they were business rivals, but I hadn’t known that they used to be close friends until Claire and Clémence had told me more about their personal history.
Now I knew they’d met during one of the harvests, then had roomed together in New York before starting their wine distribution business.
Then things had gotten weird and competitive, and Thomas took off with Jake’s girlfriend, Magali, and half their client list. That was the extent of my knowledge, and it was incriminating enough to make me wary of Thomas and his oily charm.
When the competition had ended, Jake slipped away immediately and came to my side.
He appeared much more relaxed than he had at the beginning of the evening, despite having spent the last hour elbow to elbow with his rival.
His mouth curved up as his hand grazed the small of my back.
“Come have a drink outside. You’ll enjoy the next part. ”
My whole body hummed with the contact of his skin on mine.
I barely registered the noise of the crowd as we made our way outside where people were jostling for position in the courtyard.
I was only aware of Jake’s strong body as he helped me up onto a small stone barrier where I could watch the festivities.
Placing his hands loosely on my hips, he let me rest my back against his broad chest. My breath caught in my throat.
Just when I thought I might expire on the spot, a line of men dressed in flowing robes and heavy wigs with silver chalices dangling from their necks paraded out of the ballroom. They were followed by more men, this time in floppy hats, carrying barrels of wine for the auction.