Chapter 10 The Tasting
TEN
The Tasting
April
Liam guided her to the car. When the driver stepped forward, Liam waved him off and opened the door himself, offering April his hand.
She took it instinctively, leaning into his grip as she climbed in. He followed her inside, the door shut with a soft, heavy click, sealing the world away.
Liam reached for a bottle nestled in ice and poured champagne into a crystal flute. He handed it to her without asking, and when she took it, her fingertips lingered against his, barely long enough to notice before she pulled away.
Her phone buzzed.
Laura: Quick check-in
Laura: Have you eaten
Laura: Have you cried
Laura: Have you done anything that will require a lawyer
April stared at the champagne flute like it was evidence. At the boutique receding behind them. At the absolute unreality of her Tuesday.
April: maybe. yes. unclear.
Laura: “Unclear” is my least favorite word you use.
Laura: Send ?? if you’re okay.
Laura: Send ?? if you need extraction.
April: ??
The car turned and she slid into Liam, his thigh pressed against hers in the narrow space. She kept her leg exactly where it was. The heat in his touch was matched by a worse truth. She wanted it.
April: ??
Liam’s mouth curved.
Her thumb hovered over her phone.
April: ??
Laura: APRIL.
Laura: PICK ONE.
Laura: YOU’RE GIVING ME A PANIC ATTACK.
April: both
April: I’m both okay and not okay
April: Schrodinger’s breakdown
She was acutely aware of everywhere they were touching. Everywhere they had touched. What did this mean?
Laura: That’s not how Schrodinger works.
Laura: Also: concerning.
Laura: Where are you.
April: in a car
Laura: Going where?
Laura: With who?
April glanced up again.
Liam sat perfectly still not moving away either, his heat radiating into her thigh.
April: liam
The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared with violence.
Laura: WHO IS LIAM.
April: chads brother
Laura: I’M SORRY. WHAT.
April winced, like Laura’s caps could physically strike her through the screen.
Liam’s mouth curved like he was enjoying cataloguing the moment. “Angry friend?” he asked.
“Concerned friend,” April corrected.
"She cares about you." Liam said, glancing at her phone like he could see the panic radiating off it. "That's smart. You should keep people like that close."
Very smart, April thought. Not smart enough to stop this. But smart enough to bury my body if I don’t text back in five minutes.
Her phone buzzed again.
Laura: Are you being kidnapped.
Laura: Blink twice if you’re being kidnapped.
Laura: (You can’t blink over text. You know what I mean.)
April huffed a laugh she didn’t entirely recognize as her own.
April: not kidnapped
April: just… derailed
Laura: By Chad?
Laura: Is this about Chad?
Laura: (Please say yes or no. If you say “unclear” I’m calling 911.)
April’s thumb hovered.
Because yes, it was about Chad.
But it was also about Killian’s ring on her finger.
And Arthur’s silent looming.
And Jax’s quiet watchfulness.
And Liam’s thigh burning through expensive fabric like a brand—
She pulled up her calendar before she could finish the thought.
8:00 PM—Sterling Gala
8:00 PM—Mateo Tasting
She stared.
Her brain tried to boot up a spreadsheet.
Two commitments. Same time. Different men.
April looked down at the flute in her hand again. She’d taken one sip. It tasted like rich people and bad decisions.
She typed without thinking.
April: I double booked
April: i may have committed to a lot today
Laura: With who.
Laura: APRIL. With who.
April stared at the message like it was a subpoena.
She couldn’t type Mateo without it becoming a thing.
She also couldn’t type nothing without Laura calling the FBI, the fire department, and HR. And April really didn’t want to deal with her companies HR department right now.
April: the chef and Killian
April: Kind of liam
Laura: Why are you double-booked like you’re a dental hygienist with three husbands.
Laura: What chef.
Laura: April. I do not have time for riddles.
April closed her eyes for half a second, then opened her calendar again as if it might have magically fixed itself.
It hadn’t.
8:00 PM—Sterling Gala
8:00 PM—Mateo Tasting
She exhaled, small and panicked.
April: Mateo
April: I said I would go to his place at 8
April: but the gala is 8
Laura: Since when are you going to a gala?
Laura: Which one are you going to?
Laura: Wait.
Laura: MATEO.
Laura: The hot chef I told you was into you a year ago?
Laura: THAT Mateo?
She knew it would be a Thing.
Across from her, Liam was watching her with that irritatingly calm Sterling focus. “You need to make a call?”
Laura: Just call Mateo and let him know you double booked
Laura: Texting regrets is rude
Laura: And let me know what is happening
“Need to make a call?” Liam asked.
April held up her phone an inch. “Mateo, my friend is staging a hostage negotiation.”
“Then call,” Liam said, like this was the easiest problem she’d had all day.
Liam leaned forward, thigh still not leaving hers and spoke to the driver.
"Change of plans. Take us to Rossi's, the service entrance on Bleecker."
April froze. His thumb kept moving. That maddening back-and-forth.
April made a sound that was half laugh, half plea, and hit Mateo’s name before she could think herself out of it.
It rang once.
Twice.
“April.” Mateo’s voice didn’t come through her phone. It came through the town car speakers.
April flushed in embarrassment “Oh my god—no—”
Liam’s brows lifted. Amused.
April lunged for the screen, jabbing at the audio icon like it was a live grenade. “Mateo—hi—sorry—my—”
“Sorry?” Mateo murmured, velvet-warm. “Why are you sorry, cara.”
Liam’s mouth curved, like watching a play he'd already seen and knew would end well.
April hissed, mortified, and finally managed to get the call back on handset.
"I… I have a conflict," she said, voice still breathy. "I have the Sterling Gala tonight, and I realized I double-booked you. I'm so sorry."
He was delivering her to another man, smiling, after touching her like that at the boutique.
Why isn't he jealous?
Why is NO ONE jealous?
She couldn't decide if this day was her confidence manifesting or the world's most elaborate trust fall.
Mateo's voice came through. “Then come now."
“Are you sure?” How did Liam know?
He chuckled, “April, cara mia, that is the best news I have heard all day. It means I do not have to wait until eight o’clock to have you in my kitchen. You are coming to me now.”
"I don't want to rush your preparation," she whispered.
"Preparation? My kitchen is prepped, my wine is decanted, and I am... very ready. Come to the back entrance, the one with the black awning. I've already told the staff I'm closed for a private 'consultation'."
“Okay, I’ll come now”
She stared out the window as they drove. The car slowed, then stopped.
"You're here," Liam said.
His hand lifted as the car stopped. He stepped out first, then turned back—hand extended into the interior. Palm up.
She took it.
He helped her onto the curb with careful attention. She turned into it and brushed his cheek. By the time she realized what she'd done, he was already stepping back into the car. The door shut with a soft, deliberate click, like punctuation on a sentence she was still trying to read.