Chapter Three
Smoke
“You should have called me.”
I rolled my eyes and cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear. “By the time I called you, Stan, you’d have already seen it on the news.” I was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of Rice-A-Roni while sipping my favorite Pinot Noir. Yeah, I liked good wine, but I also liked comfort food. “I’m fine, and the shop is fine as far as I can tell.” A few bottles of wine had shattered, but everything else seemed just a little shaken up.
“You need to have Tim come in and check everything over.”
I groaned and took another sip of wine. “I don’t need Tim to come in. He’s already got enough on his plate with that giant hole in his building.” Tim owned the strip mall, and while he seemed like an okay guy, the last thing I wanted was him poking around my shop. If he found something wrong, I’d have to close while it was fixed, and shutting down Wine and Cheese Me was not an option.
Business was good—great, even—but not so good that I could afford to close the doors.
“I’ll come in tomorrow and look around,” Stan insisted. “If there’s anything wrong, I can be the one to fix it.”
“Stan,” I said and dragged out his name. “You’re not on the schedule until Thursday. Enjoy your days off and don’t even think about Wine and Cheese Me.” I turned off the burner and moved the pot to the kitchen island.
Stan scoffed. “Fine. I’ll just watch Jeopardy , meditate, and try that Manchego we got in last week.”
“And the goat cheese,” I added. “We still need to figure out the best pairing for it.” Stan loved trying out new products and figuring out pairings. I liked it too, but for him, it was almost a sport.
“I’ll let you know on Thursday,” he said before he hung up.
I grabbed a fork from the drawer and leaned against the counter. I ate straight from the pot. Sure, I could grab a plate and sit down like a proper adult, but what was the point? I was the only one eating, and there was no reason to dirty more dishes.
I had stuck around the shop until six when the cops and fire department finally left, and by six-thirty, I was home eating half a pot of Rice-A-Roni. My plan for the night? Plopping on the couch and binging more of The Equalizer . Queen Latifah was everything, and I was hoping—no, rooting —for her and the hot cop to finally hook up. I was only halfway through season one, but my hopes were high.
I needed the distraction tonight.
I still hadn’t wrapped my head around everything that had happened earlier. My brain kept replaying it, over and over, and the same face stuck front and center.
Smoke.
I didn’t know why, but something about that man wouldn’t let me go.
Sure, he was handsome—like ruggedly, unfairly handsome—with that bad-boy air. Then again, all his friends had that vibe. But there was something about him in particular. Something that wouldn’t leave me alone.
I chalked it up to how chaotic the day had been. Hot, tattooed bikers didn’t just fall out of the sky and into my life every day.
I took another bite and chewed slowly as I mulled it over. That had to be it.
When I finished, I stashed the leftovers in the fridge, topped off my wine, and headed for the couch. My favorite blanket was waiting for me, and I draped it over my legs as I queued up the next episode of The Equalizer.
This was exactly what I needed: just me, my wine, and Queen Latifah.
No Smoke.