Chapter 28
JAKE
T he house was oppressively quiet. I slumped down on the couch and switched on the TV, pretending to watch the cheesy French detective series flashing on the screen just so the background noise would drown out the infernal buzzing in my head.
It was midday on a weekday, and I was watching the goddamn TV. I’d reached a new personal low.
The problem was I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d already spent the morning in pointless meetings, then tinkering with the car. I was even considering replastering the ceiling in one of the guest rooms.
It had been like this since Olivia had left, every hour of the day trickling by like molasses. The nights were even worse—empty, lonely, desolate. I slept in the guest room because I couldn’t be alone in my own bed anymore.
It still seemed so surreal. One minute I’d been as close to her as possible, deep inside her, and then the next I was giving her a peck on the cheek and telling her goodbye.
Every day I was determined not to let myself think about her, but that was impossible when everything reminded me of her.
The scent of lavender from the garden, the occasional scribbled recipe I’d find tucked into a book.
I avoided the kitchen and couldn’t bring myself to open the fridge because I knew it would be full of food that she’d made.
I never went out on the terrace where I’d first kissed her, and where she’d stared at me like I’d ripped her heart out the day she left.
I’d said all the wrong things that day. I knew I had. But I wasn’t lying when I told her I didn’t know how to be with someone else, to have them depend on me.
This was why I didn’t do relationships, I reminded myself day after day.
But even that familiar refrain rang hollow.
Because, goddammit, every cell in my body longed for her.
I couldn’t shake it. It was confusing and destabilizing as hell.
It made me feel like a desperate little kid again, and I’d do just about anything to never feel that way.
The sound of pottery clattering to the floor had me rushing outside to investigate. That damn tomcat had knocked his bowl of water over and was sitting on the table glaring at me. He did nothing but glare at me since Olivia had left.
“What?” I grumbled at him. “She was always going to leave. You shouldn’t have gotten so attached.”
I tried shooing him away, but he just sat there blinking at me and flicking his tail.
“Fine,” I said, closing the door on him.
When I walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later, I found Chantal cleaning out the refrigerator. She clucked and shook her head at me as she sniffed the food that I’d let go bad, tossing it into a garbage bag at her feet.
“ Mais quel gachis !” She was right to complain about the waste. I couldn’t justify it, so I ignored her and poured a glass of water, gulping it down in one go.
“Where is Olivia?” She asked. “I wanted to invite her over for dinner tomorrow night.”
I swallowed hard. Even knowing this moment was coming didn’t make it any easier.
“Olivia is gone,” I said as quickly and as dispassionately as possible. But there was no fooling Chantal. She knew that Olivia had been staying in my room for the past few weeks but had never said anything.
“Ah?” She crossed her hands over her ample bosom. “And when will she be back?”
“She won’t be.”
Silence hung between us. We didn’t have the type of relationship that would allow Chantal to pry, but I could see that she was dying to.
“Hmm, that explains the frigo ,” she said matter-of-factly and went back to scrubbing the fridge with vinegar and lemon. “It’s too bad. I’ll miss her. So will Michel. And maybe you will as well.”
I didn’t respond, just ground some beans for my coffee.
“That explains why the cat has been moping outside the cottage all morning,” she continued. “I’ll bring him some sardines tomorrow to cheer him up. Pauvre matou .”
“No, don’t bring him anything,” I warned. “It’s a good lesson for him. He let himself get too dependent on her.”
“ Eh, ben .” Chantal snorted and picked up her cleaning bucket and left, her disapproval hanging like perfume behind her.
* * *
The next day, rather than subject myself to curious stares of people in town, I made good on my threat to leave and hopped on a flight back to Shanghai.
I wanted to get back to business as usual to convince myself that I was still doing what I was meant to do, that the business I’d grown from nothing was still proof that I was capable of living on my own terms. But after a week in our small but sleek offices overlooking the Bund, all the awards, the magazine articles, the “30 Under 30” (now “40 Under 40”) lists, just seemed like a lot of meaningless paper and ink.
Worse, my sense of taste had disappeared.
“What’s up, Jake? I don’t think you’ve been listening to anything that I said.” Jin snapped his leather folder shut with a dramatic flourish. “I could still be working on my tan in Bali, you know.”
“You didn’t have to come back.”
I didn’t force him to. He deserved his extended vacation after all. But when our assistant had let it slip that I was in the office, he’d been on the first plane to Shanghai. I was happy to see that he at least appeared rested and rejuvenated.
We’d fallen back into our familiar routine where I buried my head in accounts and correspondence, and he did the actual work in the office.
He’d already begun the laborious process of updating our Asian inventory using Olivia’s app.
I tried to pretend it didn’t stir up all kinds of memories that I’d hoped to leave behind in France.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Jin asked, clearly frustrated and not willing to take wordless grunts as a response.
“Honestly, Jin, I’ve been asking myself the same question,” I admitted. Why was I still hanging on to something that was no longer bringing me satisfaction?
It had in the beginning. It had been a work of evangelization, bringing wine that I loved to a new public. But then I’d gotten lost, stuck in that infernal competition with Thomas.
What’s worse is that I’d let myself become convinced that my own busyness—hopping on planes, never settling down in one place for too long—was necessary. Now it looked more like running away.
“I’m tired of the hustle. I feel out of sync with this life, always chasing the next big deal . . .”
“Let’s not get all existential here. Forty-eight hours ago, I was on a beach sipping mai tais, so lighten up a little.
” Jin sighed. “I mean what happened in France? With Olivia? The last time we spoke you were going to Beaune. About time, by the way. I mean if you can’t bone in Beaune, can you even call yourself a wine lover? ”
I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. “We aren’t having this discussion.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s some big secret. There was so much pent-up lust in that house that had to get out of there before it shook the foundations. I thought Olivia would loosen you up a little. But you have clearly gone and done something stupid. So what was it?”
Then as if thinking better of it, he shook his index finger and then plugged his ears. “No, never mind, don’t tell me. I’ll be too disappointed. It’ll be the finale of Game of Thrones all over again.”
“Are you finished?”
“I haven’t even gotten started. You’re not off the hook.” His voice shook and his eyes were glassy. I’d rarely seen Jin this emotional.
“Okay, well. Will it shut you up if I admit that you’re right?”
He sat up straighter in his chair. “I am?”
“At least about me being unhappy. I’m not going to lie to you, Jin. I need to make a change. A big one.”
It had only taken me a year of numb misery and a week back to know that I didn’t want this part of my life anymore. I didn’t know what I would do next, but I was done with this.
“I need to show you something.” I had him read the latest email from Sungate Group. They’d raised their offer. I was ready to take it, but only if Jin got the recognition he deserved.
“I want to make you partner and transfer shares to you as part of your promotion. We’ll be in a better position to negotiate.”
“Jake, I can’t let you do this.” Jin balked, eyes wide. “I don’t deserve it . . . What about you? Are you sure you’re not going to regret this?”
“Stop, Jin. You do deserve it. If it wasn’t for you, this business would have been bottom-up months ago. Really. Stop doubting yourself. You’re more than capable,” I told him. His bottom lip quivered, but he cleared his throat and sat up straight as a ruler.
“I am capable,” he repeated. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you, but yeah, if that’s what you want. I won’t let you down.”
We spent a good part of an hour going over details of the buyout and the amount of input we would retain.
Jin would continue as president of the company.
I would step down completely but retain a board position so that they couldn’t take advantage of our winemakers.
I also wanted assurance that our employees would stay on or receive an attractive severance package if they decided to leave.
“Are you ready to do this?” I asked as I picked up the phone. He nodded, and I dialed Thomas’s number.
He picked up almost immediately. “Jake, my man, this is a surprise.”
The anticipation in his voice almost made me reconsider. But I didn’t. I laid everything out on the line for him.
“I’m so glad you’ve finally seen the light. We’re going to do fabulous things together,” Thomas said. I could practically hear him preening through the phone. “I gotta say, I’m still shocked you contacted us. This isn’t like you at all to walk away from something you’ve built.”
“It’s time. My heart’s no longer in it.”
He laughed. “Your heart somewhere else these days? I don’t blame you, man, if you’re finally thinking of settling down now you’ve found the right woman.”
Jin’s eyes widened at me over the phone.
“No, nothing like that.” There was no way in hell I was discussing Olivia with him.
“Come on. You’ve got something in the works. I’m sure of it.” Thomas wasn’t going to give up. He wanted this rivalry, needed it as much as I did once. He’d be lost without it, and in a way, that was the best revenge.
When we hung up at last, an enormous weight was lifted off me. I opened a bottle of Chateau Lafite and we sat in my office with a view of the Bund. I poured a glass for Jin and me, and for the first time in a long time I tasted it.
It tasted like letting go.