Josie
Five
I sit alone in the small vineyard office, the window beside my desk open just enough to let the evening air drift inside as I reread Alex’s message.
The last of the crew left half an hour ago, their trucks rolling down the gravel drive one by one until the vineyard faded into quiet. Outside, the rows of vines have already disappeared into shadow, the hills softening into the deep blue that fills in once the workday ends.
The fundraiser comes back to me immediately. The crowded room. Glasses of Paradise pinot circulating through the crowd. A big oil stain on my best silk blouse. Listening to Max Paradise pretend he’s above the law.
Alex standing beside me explaining pinot flavor as though he were offering helpful guidance to someone who might enjoy learning about wine.
But there’s a difference between arrogance and ignorance. One is deliberate. The other happens when someone assumes they’re the most informed person in the conversation.
I read his message again.
Dinner? That means sitting in a restaurant where everyone will see us and it will circle around town before we even reach our table.
But there’s something about him. He isn’t pretending the moment didn’t happen, and that’s certainly better than the people who know me and insult me to my face. And he truly didn’t know who I was.
That might just make him a diamond in the rough.
I lock my phone and set it on the desk, sliding it a few inches away, as if distance might make the decision easier.
Ignoring the invitation would be simplest. Most of the time that’s exactly what I do. Messages like this arrive often enough that I’ve noticed a pattern.
A friendly conversation. A drink. Then the real purpose appears.
Most men want something eventually. Sometimes it’s business. Sometimes it’s access. But it never seems to be about Josie the person.
With Alex, the angle is harder to read. Or maybe he doesn’t have one?
He’s a doctor. That rules out half the usual motivations.
Around here, the vineyards still shape more of local politics than anyone likes to admit, and being seen beside a Dempsey carries a certain social currency, whether you want it or not.
Or sometimes the explanation is even simpler than that.
Some people just want to stay close to the source of good wine.
I consider my phone again, already mentally deleting the message.
The office door opens, and Sera steps in. “What are you still doing here? I thought you left already.”
“Almost.” I reach across the desk and scoop up my phone.
She drops a folder on the corner of the desk and her eyes move to the phone in my hand. “What’s that look for?”
“I got an email from someone I met at the fundraiser.” I open the message and turn the screen toward her.
“Who is he?”
“He’s a doctor. According to Matt, he’s an oncologist.”
“Depressing.” Sera leans in and reads the message. A second later, she laughs. “You should go.”
“No way.” The answer comes out before I can soften it.
She looks at me. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a terrible idea. He didn’t know who I was, and that alone should be a red flag.” Although it was certainly pleasant at the time. “And anyway, going to dinner with him would be all-over-town gossip.“
Sera looks back down at the phone, reading the message again as if something might change the second time through. “It’s dinner, Josie. Not an enormous commitment.”
“That’s not how it works here.” She knows better than that.
“According to who?”
Who is she kidding? “According to every experience I’ve had doing this.”
“So you’re living your life to please the public now?” Sera leans back against the desk, folding her arms. “Are you upset that he mansplained wines to you?”
“No. I actually loved that he didn’t know who I was, and that he was recommending my wine. I just…” I give a single-shoulder shrug.
Sera studies me for a moment, the way she does when she thinks I’m arguing around the real issue. “He didn’t know who you were,” she says. “He thought he was talking to another guest.”
I look out towards the lake.
“He wasn’t trying to impress you.”
I fold my arms. “You’re missing the larger issue.”
“Which is?”
“This town watches everything we do.” Why doesn’t she understand?
She sits down at her desk, opposite mine. “That’s not new.”
“Dating someone here doesn’t stay private. It turns into speculation about vineyard alliances before the appetizers arrive.”
“Who cares? That only matters if you let it.”
Paradise may look quiet from the outside, but the feud between the vineyards is an ongoing story around town. Evie’s court case doesn’t help either.
Sera leans forward. “You’re assuming this guy cares about any of that.”
“Most people eventually do.” I think about all the unwanted attention my family gets and how it’s affected everyone I know and love.
“And you know that because you’ve already decided what category he belongs in.”
I pick up the phone again, turning it over in my hand.
“He only asked you to dinner,” Sera says. “That’s it—well, and he wants to apologize for educating you on your own wine.”
“Everyone thinks they’re okay about it until suddenly Norma at the grocery store refuses to check them out because Evie has done something and the Paradise family is innocent.”
“Forget about Norma and everyone else. Go have some fun. You deserve it. You work long hours every day, year-round. And we both deserve to have someone in our lives. Maybe he’s your someone.”
I hold up my hand. “It’s dinner.” I look out at the last light tucking behind the hills, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. What am I fighting about exactly? “Evie could leave the vineyard to Dylan and Scott tomorrow, if she felt like it.”
Sera gives me a look. “She’s never going to do that.
She knows our cousins are screwups. But I understand what you’re saying.
It’s going to be a while before Black Bear feels entirely solid.
All the more reason to have a life outside of work or something to fall back on if she pulls the rug out from under us. ”
I hate it when Sera makes sense. “And going out to dinner with this Alex guy is how it starts?” I scoff. “And what do I do when there is eventually a favor request?”
“Don’t get so far ahead of yourself. You’re describing men who already knew who you were.”
I narrow my eyes.
“He didn’t,” Sera says calmly. “Not until Matt told him.”
Which means he spent ten minutes talking to me like a normal person. Might that still be possible, even though now he knows? I shake my head. “He explained my own wine to me.”
Sera laughs again. “Yes. That’s still the best part. He’s a doctor. Confidence probably comes with the job.”
I try not to smile, but it doesn’t completely work.
“If you don’t want dinner, tell him you’ll meet him for drinks.”
“Maybe.” I really shouldn’t care if everyone in town wants to gossip about me.
Sera reaches over and taps my desk. “Meet him at Gather.”
“That’s right in the middle of town.”
“One drink. If he says anything about business or vineyard politics, you can leave.”
As if it’s that simple. “What happens if he doesn’t?”
Sera’s mouth curves slightly. “Then maybe you stay and have dinner.”
I open the email again.
He doesn’t mention the vineyard or my family.
There’s nothing about business, nothing about the feud.
And he didn’t mention the feud at the fundraiser, even before he knew I was part of it.
Maybe he doesn’t care? It’s simply dinner, written plainly enough that I read the message twice before deciding he might actually mean it that way.
Before I give myself time to reconsider, I type a reply.
How about drinks at Gather tomorrow at six? If the conversation goes well, we’ll see about dinner.
Sera leans forward as I press send. “What did you say?”
“That I’ll meet him for drinks.”
Her eyebrows lift. “When?”
“Tomorrow, if he’s free.”
She does a little happy dance in her chair. “That was faster than I expected.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not dinner.”
“Yet.”
I shut the computer down. “Don’t start.”
Sera gathers her things and heads for the door. “Let me know how it goes.”
“I’m not promising anything.”
“You don’t have to.”