Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Winnie
“Nope,” I say a little too forcefully to Kyoko. “Hard pass.” A guy about to sit down in the empty seat next to me gives me a startled look and backs up. I wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean you …”
But he’s already walking away. Next to me Kyoko covers her mouth as she laughs.
“Way to scare away the nice boy,” she says, then waves a hand. “Anyway, back to James. I’m not saying give me intimate details about the kiss, but I need something to get me through this session. I mean, tracking distribution and inventory?” Kyoko closes her eyes and makes loud snoring sounds.
I’m actually excited about the session, even though I’m distracted by thoughts of James. But at the moment, I’m too derailed by the first part of what Kyoko said.
“Who says I kissed him?” I demand, perhaps a little too forcefully, based on Kyoko’s smug grin.
“I think you just did.”
I try to press my lips closed. Instead, I blurt, “What happens in the elevator stays in the elevator.”
Kyoko’s eyes go wide and she grabs my hand with bone-crushing strength. “You kissed him on the elevator!”
“Shhh!”
Way too many heads are turning. I open my notebook, then use it to hide my face.
“Oh, no. You don’t get to retreat like that. Even if you did just make a cringeworthy and cliched reference to Vegas. Which I'm never going to let you live down, by the way.”
Despite the hard time she’s currently giving me, I love that Kyoko casually said never , like we’ve got a long future friendship ahead of us. Which I honestly hope is true. Nothing forms the foundation of friendship quite like being the two people with boobs in a room filled with beards.
The emcee steps up to the front and starts introducing the speaker, saving me. Kyoko leans close and whispers, “Later. I’ll drag it out of you.”
Not gonna happen.
I won’t talk about it. Instead, I just replay the moment over and over again.
It was the kind of kiss that starts wars or ends them.
The sort that sonnets are written about.
Country songs too—the happy ones that you line dance to, not the sad ones or the vengeful ones.
(Though I do love some vengeful Miranda Lambert.) As much as the thought should terrify me, it’s the kind of kiss that becomes your last first kiss.
Because I can’t imagine any other kiss will ever come close.
So, yeah—I’m not admitting that.
Kyoko makes a valiant effort to drag more out of me though, paying for a rideshare and treating me to lunch at a Mexican place with queso so good it’s almost drinkable.
I don’t crack, even with the drugging effects of melted cheese and perfectly seasoned fajitas.
Every time she asks about James, I counter with a question about operations at the brewery where she works.
And because she’s nice and I’m stubborn, she keeps answering even when I don’t.
“You’re really not going to give me anything ?” Kyoko pouts as we finish off a post-meal basket of chips. Because if you’re not eating chips as the bookend to your meal, you’re doing it wrong.
“No.”
“What if I ask a series of yes-or-no questions?”
This makes me smile, thinking of James and our questions. I catch myself smiling when Kyoko grins wickedly at me. I clear my throat and my expression.
“Nope.”
“I’ve got it!” Kyoko waves a chip for emphasis. “I’ll ask questions that aren’t about James. And if you happen to read into them and spill some vague but juicy details, who will be the wiser?”
I bite into another chip while I consider. Normally, I’d talk to Lindy and Val about James. I did consider calling them last night after James ghosted me, but I didn’t really feel like talking. More like yelling or breaking things.
Plus, Lindy is somewhere in Europe, and phone calls are supposed to be for emergency purposes only if something happens with Jo.
It’s also a little weird since she’s married to James’s brother.
I don’t know how she wouldn’t be biased in favor of the Grahams. I mean, being Lindy’s sister-in-law?
Come on! That’s maybe the best argument in favor of James.
NOT that I’m thinking about marriage. Just, you know, for argument’s sake. Lindy’s mind would definitely follow that path to its logical conclusion.
Val would be way too enthusiastic. She’s always been the romantic out of the three of us.
Plus, the minute she laid eyes on the Graham brothers, she was trying to get us to call dibs.
There would have been zero chill if I told her James kissed me.
She would have squealed on the phone for half an hour and told me to get off the phone and go kiss him some more.
“Fine,” I say, leaning back in the booth. “Two questions.”
“Squeee!” Kyoko laughs, then shakes her head. “I just said squee. Like it’s a real word, not a sound.”
I hold up both hands. “Hey. No judgment.”
“First question. You’re renovating your bathroom and have to choose wallpaper.”
“This is already the worst question I’ve ever been asked.”
“Shh! As you’re deciding on the wallpaper, you’re torn between a dark velvet with gold leaf or a light and bright romantic floral print. Which do you choose?”
I stare at Kyoko. “I’m sorry, but why, of all the rooms in the house, am I putting sexy wallpaper in the bathroom?”
Kyoko shoves the basket of chips out of the way and leans across the table, her eyes bright. “So, the kiss was sexy?”
I bite my lip but find myself smiling and answering anyway. “Yes.”
“Squee!” Kyoko says again, and this time I laugh with her. “Will you do it again?”
That question is one I can’t answer, because I have no idea. James is harder to read than a technical manual on building car engines written entirely in a foreign language. He said he didn’t regret the kiss but also that he doesn’t know what to do about it.
And that’s where we’re for sure on the same page. I have no idea what to do about it either.
I’ve never been casual. I don’t have enough chill for casual.
I’ve mostly had long single periods, punctuated here and there by boring monogamous relationships.
Like the one I just got out of, though Dale already feels like some distant memory.
Compared to the rush of emotion I have for James, what I felt for Dale at most is like watered-down, lukewarm tea.
“I hope so, but I don’t know.”
Kyoko nods. “Given the way he looked at you last night before he threw Daniel in the pool, I’d say chances are high.”
Given the way he disappeared after and how wrecked he looked this morning, it’s not a hand I’d bet on. He said he didn’t regret it. But there’s a lot of room between not regretting something and wanting to repeat it.
We head back to the hotel, Kyoko cradling a to-go pint of queso like it’s a baby. “Hey, promise me something.”
The suddenly serious look on her face makes me wary. “Okay …”
“When Dark Horse is ready, convince James to hire me.”
Not what I was expecting. It takes my brain a second to switch gears. “You want to work for James? It’s no picnic, I’ll tell you. And I even … sort of like the man.”
“I think we’ve established you more than sort of like him. No matter how hard he is to work with, I’d prefer James over my current situation. I’m overworked and undervalued. I’d be an asset to Dark Horse. And he’d listen if you told him.”
“You’d want to move to Sheet Cake?”
“I mean, sure. Sounds like the town is starting to come alive. And you’re there. We’re already half-besties. So, yeah.”
“That actually sounds … great. But I don’t know when he’ll be hiring. He doesn’t tell me details. And he’s not the best at working with others.”
“He’ll have to learn,” Kyoko says, like this is some kind of easy task, not a massive leap. “Running a brewery isn’t a one-person job.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you. And no matter what, you’ve got me. I’m harder to shake than a leech.”
“Ew.”
“Speaking of shaking me,” she says, “there are only two more sessions and then the big award show.”
“We should go out to dinner or something instead,” I suggest. “The award show sounds boring.”
Her eyes go big. “You can’t skip it. James is up for two awards! Did you not know?”
“Nope.”
This knowledge shouldn’t shock me. It’s not like the man fills me in on much. And even if he weren’t so closed off, James is totally the type to not tell anyone about something like an award, something that puts the spotlight on him. I bet not even his family knows.
Though the man is as stubborn as a whole pack of mules and set on doing everything himself, like Kyoko said, he needs other people, and on some level, I think he knows it.
The man may act like he wants to be an island, but underneath his poker face—and he really does have a good one—I’ve caught glimpses of something else.
Like the other day at lunch when his gaze kept falling to the logos on their matching brewery T-shirts.
Maybe anyone else would have missed it, but I didn’t.
There’s a longing somewhere underneath that big grumpy exterior, a longing for others.
His exterior is like one big bluff.
And I’m going to call him on it. Starting with the awards show tonight. An idea takes shape—a risky but really good idea—and I’m itching to start making phone calls.
As we walk inside the hotel, I give Kyoko an apologetic look. “I’m going to skip the next session or two. Can I borrow your notes later?”
Her expression is sly. “Of course. Does this have something to do with James?”
“Duh. I’ll need your help too, so keep your phone handy.”
We part ways in the lobby, and I’m already firing off texts, setting plans in motion. Whether I can pull this off in the next few hours is the big question. But I’m nothing if not up for a challenge. Especially where James Graham is concerned.
The realization scares me, but I decide, like with so many other things, to worry about it later.