Tasty

10. Ms. Get It Done!

MS. GET IT DONE!

Rory.

“Up! Up—no, up more!”

I stepped back, squinting at the wall while pointing toward the beam overhead. “I need floor to ceiling. Don’t cheat me.”

The TaskRabbit guy stretched his arm higher, the tape measure shaking slightly. “I’m literally at the ceiling.”

“Then touch it.”

“Ma’am, my arm only goes so far.”

“Then get creative,” I said, hands on my hips. “What type of helper are you?”

He glanced down at me. “You hired me for filing and bookkeeping.”

“And look how far you’ve come,” I encouraged. “Now extend.”

He shook his head but adjusted the tape anyway, rising onto his toes. “Nine feet, six inches.”

I tapped it into my iPad, nodding to myself. “See? Growth.”

The shed felt different in the morning.

The air was cooler, but it held the smell of damp wood and soil. Light pushed through the wide openings in uneven strips, catching dust in the air and settling along the floorboards.

The place had a good structure, even if it had been neglected, the bones were still there.

Chewy tugged at the leash beside me, restless and impatient. He wasn’t used to mornings like this.

“Babe, relax,” I muttered, giving the leash a small tug back. “We almost done.”

“We aren’t done yet?” TaskRabbit asked, almost as impatient as Chewy. I think everyone needs a nap or a cup of coffee.

“Mm-hmm. Rotate,” I said, pointing toward the next wall. “Let’s get width.”

He groaned and moved across the room, dragging the tape with him. I stepped back again, scanning the space while he worked.

I could already see it.

Seating arranged along the perimeter. A bar running the length of the back wall. Open panels facing the vineyard so the view did the work for you.

Yes. This could work.

I just need to make the budget work.

“What you doing up this early, Ms. Rodriguez?”

I turned toward the door just as Wyatt stepped inside, stopping short when he saw us.

I straightened, brushing my hands together. “Working.”

He looked around the space, taking it in. “This what working look like?”

“I’m getting measurements.”

“For?”

“None of your business yet,” I said, tapping my iPad. “But it’s gonna be nice.”

He nodded slowly, still looking around.

His eyes dropped for a second—my legs, the heels—then came back up.

Subtle.

“You’re quite dressed up this morning.”

“Still?” I glanced down at myself. “I thought this was more suitable for work.”

“The heels may be overkill.”

I knew that.

But I wasn’t about to say why I wore them…

“You never know who you might run into,” I replied instead. That pulled a small grin out of him.

The TaskRabbit guy cleared his throat. “You still need me to do this next side?”

I waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Finish that wall.”

Wyatt stepped further inside. “Can I at least know what you plan on building? That way I can tell you if this structure is gonna be able to hold it?”

I tilted my head and played naive.

“I thought you grew special grapes,” I said. “What do you know about construction?”

“A little more than him.” He pointed toward the TaskRabbit guy, still fumbling with the tape.

iYiYi!

“To be fair, even I know more than him,” I sighed. “But fine. I’m trying to turn this into a wine tasting, cigar, and hookah lounge.”

“Oh?”

“With a view.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“Well,” he said, glancing around again, “it’s a bit of a walk out here. I don’t know if people would come all the way into the middle of a vineyard for drinks and smokes. Plus, we don’t have transportation.”

“I thought of that,” I said quickly. “This would be the last stop on a vineyard and winery tour. As for transportation back, we partner with local businesses to push the experience. They can handle transport.”

I tapped my iPad, pulling up notes.

That part was Orim’s idea.

“I want to redo the three main buildings too. The entrance especially. That could be a seating area for meetings and conversations. I haven’t been in the third building yet, but I heard it’s empty. We could fix that up and rent it out.”

Wyatt looked at me for a second.

“…sounds like you’ve been busy since yesterday.”

“I haven’t slept.”

“I can tell.”

He walked over to one of the walls, pressing his hand against the wood. “This building’s gonna need work. A lot of it. The other ones can run off renovations and landscaping. But this one…”

“I know.”

I flipped through my notes.

“Lifting floorboards, rotting pillars, water damage from the rain. I’m trying to see what can be salvaged. This whole thing falls apart if I can’t get it into a reasonable budget for Marlon to even consider it.”

Wyatt nodded slowly. “Come with me.”

“…for?”

“I wanna show you something.”

I looked back at the TaskRabbit guy. “I’ll be back. Watch Chewy.”

Then I hooked the leash on a nail that was hanging from the wood.

“My name is Hartland, by the way,” he said.

“Noted.”

I stepped out with Wyatt.

We walked through the rows, the ground still damp underfoot. The air had shifted since earlier. Warmer now, but still quiet.

“What are you doing up this early, Wy?”

His eyebrow cocked at the nickname but he didn’t question it.

“I like the mornings here,” he answered. “I like the quiet before the workers come in. Gives me time to think.”

“You not from around here, huh?”

“Belgium,” he said. “Before that Spain. Before that France. Chile. Argentina. New Zealand. Italy.”

I groaned. “Ugh. I’m supposed to be in Italy right now. I’m missing my Milan summer.”

He smiled slightly. “Why are you here, Ms. Rodriguez?”

“Bad decisions,” I rolled my eyes. “You? Lavender said you were helping with the launch. Why you still here?”

“I’ve been a winemaker for over a decade,” he said. “Yes, Marlon brought me on for the new line. But… I stayed. I like his approach. I like how hands-on he is. I like the property.”

He glanced at me.

“Some really beautiful things pass through here every now and again.”

Then he tilted his head toward the horizon. The sun was rising over the vineyard, light stretching across the rows.

“Wow,” I closed my eyes for a second, letting the warmth settle on my skin. “It’s really nice out here.”

“Exactly,” he said. “It’s hard to walk away from that. But I can see myself coming back for a wine tasting or two.”

“Really?”

“You gotta fix this place up, Ms. Rodriguez,” he said. “It’s too beautiful to fall to ruin. I don’t want your family to lose it.”

“We won’t.”

“Ms. Aurora!”

I turned sharply.

Hartland came running toward us, out of breath with Chewy’s leash in his hand.

“The dog ran out!”

“…come again?”

“He ran out the door into the rows. I can’t find him.”

I stared at him. My fucking son is missing?

“How you let that happen, Hart?!”

“Ms. Aurora, I am not a dog watcher,” he exhorted quickly. “I am not a contractor or your personal assistant. I just need money to put myself through school, okay? This shit is stressing me out!”

I raised my hands. “Okay, okay! Calm down. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Which way did he go?”

He pointed toward the far rows. The same direction where the ATV got stuck the day before.

The ground over there was still heavy with mud. The sun hadn’t reached that section yet.

“My God,” I ran my hands through my hair as panic began to creep up in me. If Chewy even busts a grape in this field, Marley’s gonna kill my ass. “I gotta find him. Now.”

“It’s okay,” Wyatt said. “I’ll help you look.”

I softened. “You will?”

“You go left,” he commanded. “I’ll go right.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

I moved fast through the rows, heels sinking enough to slow me down.

“Chewyyyy?”

Nothing.

I pushed past another line of vines, scanning low, then wide. My grip tightened on the leash still wrapped around my wrist.

“Chewy!”

Still nothing.

My chest tightened.

He was small. Too small for this place. One wrong step, one wrong bite—

My stomach dropped.

“Chew Toy! Don’t eat nothing,” I picked up my pace. “Don’t you touch nothing.”

I checked my phone.

I had maybe forty minutes before I needed to be back in the office.

“Chewy!”

The rows stretched on. The mud thickened the further I went. No workers in sight yet. No movement.

And the thought wouldn’t leave me alone.

What if he already ate one?

What if I didn’t find him in time?

“Okay,” I said out loud, trying to steady myself. “No. No, we not doing that. Calm down.”

I stopped and listened. That’s when I smelled it.

Food. I turned toward it, following the scent through another set of rows until the space opened up into a clearing.

A few of the workers sat around a makeshift setup of coolers, crates flipped into seats, paper plates in their hands. Someone had a small burner going.

And right in the middle of them:

Chewy.

Tail wagging and begging.

My relief came out loud.

“Chew Toy Rodriguez! Get yo ass over here right now!”

Every head turned.

Chewy jumped up immediately and ran straight toward me like he hadn’t just taken ten years off my life.

“Morning, Ms. Rodriguez,” Patch said, calm as ever. “He with you?”

I bent down, scooping Chewy up, checking him over quickly. He was muddy but looked fine. His breath didn’t smell sweet.

“Yeah, he’s mine. Y’all ain’t feed him nothing, right?”

“Nah,” Patch said. “He sure tried though.”

“Good,” I muttered. “I don’t need another five thousand dollar vet bill.”

I held Chewy up slightly, looking him dead in his face. “Didn’t I tell you begging is low brow and even lower vibrations?”

He blinked at me like he understood.

Patch chuckled. “You want some?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes! After all that damn running around? Fix me a plate.”

He handed me one without question. Eggs, potatoes and something grilled. I sat with them, heels planted in dirt I had already given up fighting as Chewy settled in my lap.

“So what got you out here this early?” Patch asked.

“I’m working,” I responded, taking a bite. “Trying to get measurements and plans together.”

“For what?” One worker asked.

“That shed,” I said. “I’m trying to turn it into something usable.”

“What you thinking?” Asked another.