Ch. 17 – Jax
J ax wasn’t two steps into the tasting room of The Rose and Thorn when giggles exploded from a large group of women crowded around two tables pushed together.
Blinking crown. Sash. Smutty bingo cards.
All the telltale signs were there. The winery had a full-blown case of bachelorette party. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Profits would be good tonight. No one could guzzle sparkling champagne like women worked up on swoony wedding daydreams. But these situations had to be handled delicately. By Jax’s very scientific observation, 90 percent of bachelorette parties were an absolute blast to serve. The other 10 percent ended in vomit, tears, or both.
Jax wasn’t a superstitious person, but she found herself crossing her fingers for a vomit-free Friday. She greeted the bachelorette party, accepted an offered bingo card, and took an order for three bottles of bubbly.
Making her way to the bar, she high-fived Earl, a regular who stood waiting for his order. An epitome of the Yucca Hills old guard, Earl owned a couple of acres, kept to himself, and would give you the sweat-stained, decades-old shirt off his back if you needed it .
“You being helped?” Jax asked him now. “Or you want a refill on the pinot?”
Earl always made a great show of studying the testing menu on each visit, and every single time he ordered the pinot noir.
“I got it.” A figure popped up from behind the bar, bottle in hand.
Jax stopped short. Her jaw might have dropped to the ground with an anvil-like sound. “Tess? Um, you’re on the wrong side of the bar.”
“Actually, I kind of work here now,” Tess answered. The small woman wore her auburn hair in a tight, high ponytail. And if Jax wasn’t mistaken, she’d even wandered through a little makeup. A dash of gray eyeshadow highlighted her hazel eyes, and a wisp of gloss plumped her lips. Tess had always been attractive in an understated way, but with a little effort, she looked stunning.
“You work here?” Jax repeated dumbly. This was not computing. Hadn’t the woman been training to be a doctor? Why the hell would she be slinging vino like a pleb, especially when Theo could barely manage to pay the minimum wage?
Tess offered a shy smile. “You mentioned you guys were really busy, and I’ve been kind of looking for something to do. I’m here most days anyway, so . . .” She shrugged as if that would somehow fill in the multitude of blanks in Jax’s mind.
All Jax could do now was shake her head. “You’re so much better than this, Tess.”
“Hey!” Theo snapped from the far end of the bar. Jax glanced his way and her jaw did a repeat of the anvil drop stunt. Her boss wore a noticeable lipstick print on his cheek. Jax’s gaze bounced back to Tess, to the coating of lip gloss on her friend’s lips. Holy Satan’s guacamole, did Tess and Theo—
Tess pointed to the bachelorette table. “It was for the bride’s bingo card. Theo is such a sucker. ”
Jax looked down at her own card. The center square read, Kiss a handsome stranger.
“Oh, Theo . . .” Jax shook her head.
They’re going to drink soooo much, he mouthed to her.
“You said the pinot, right?” Tess asked Earl, holding out a bottle of white.
“That’s the pinot grigio,” Jax said gently. “Earl goes for the pinot noir.”
“Well, I might want the pinot grigio.” Earl rubbed his whiskered chin and thought on the matter for a good 20 seconds. “Actually. I think I’ll take a glass of the pinot noir.”
Jax moved behind the bar, gently nudged Tess out of the way, and pulled the correct bottle from the lower shelf without even looking. She filled Earl’s glass and sent him on his merry way.
She turned to Tess. “I’m going to throw myself on that bachelorette grenade over there. When I get back, I’ll show you the ropes.”
Breanna slipped from the back of the winery holding several bottles of wine in her hands. She glowered at the lipstick print on her boyfriend’s face, then forced a bright smile as she turned to Tess and Jax.
Oh, what the shit is this? Jax was immediately on guard. If she’d been a cat, her tail would be in a full puff. She’d seen Breanna’s little one-woman show too many times to count. The title? Passive Aggressive, a Master Class by Breanna Ramsey.
Breanna set the bottles on the counter in front of Tess with a clank. “Soooo, you see how you’ve only got one bottle of merlot down there?” Breanna pitched her voice high and sugary sweet as she pointed beneath the tasting bar with a French-manicured nail. “We usually like to restock when we get that low. It’s going to get hella busy in here soon, and you don’t want to run out when the bar is full.” She gave Tess a smug smile. “I got some more for you this time . . . since you didn’t know.”
“Oh,” Tess smiled at Breanna. “Thanks. I appreciate the note. I’ll probably make a million mistakes today.”
“Yeah,” Breanna’s smile was so forced, Jax now knew what she’d look like in a hostage video. “That’s understandable since you don’t know much about wine. It’s soooo funny that Theo just hired you without any experience.”
“Breanna.” Theo’s voice was light, but Jax caught the tone of warning in his words. “We’ll teach Tess what she needs to know. It’s not that hard.”
Breanna was one of those people who saw other women as competition, never friends. Jax had tried to be friendly with Breanna, if only for Theo’s sake, and her efforts had always crashed and burned. She’d heard from Haley and several Rose and Thorn patrons that Breanna often sneered at Jax’s wardrobe choices behind her back and had even given her the delightfully uncreative nickname of “Homeless Mediterranean Barbie.”
“Helllloooo.” One of the women from the bachelorette party waved her arm. “Where’s our bubbles?”
“Bubbles . . . bubbles . . . bubbles,” the women chanted. One of them was now attached to the table with furry handcuffs. This was gonna be fun.
“Just keep the bar stocked,” Breanna said to Tess. “Make sure to add one of my business cards to the bag for any bottle purchases. And don’t overpour. Jax always overpours.”
And fuck you very much, too, Jax thought to the slender blond woman as she waded into bachelorette mayhem.
*
Two hours later, the bachelorette party stumbled out the door, cackling and whooping into their limo. The tidy tip they left mostly made up for them asking other customers for condoms and lobbing several marriage proposals at Jax. Bachelorette bingo had gotten fierce over that last half hour.
As the sun sunk toward the horizon, the crowd at the winery grew bigger and louder. As she struggled to keep up at the tasting bar, Jax’s well-honed assholery meter chirped to life. It pointed her to a table where a young man with thinning hair wore a tight smile and nodded politely while his older companion in a rumpled gray suit waxed philosophical. Over the hum of the crowd, Jax caught a few words— these days, damn snowflakes, and real men. They were enough that she got the gist real quick .
The older man’s eyes had taken on a glassy sheen, and he threw back the last slug of wine in his glass like a kamikaze shot. He slammed his empty glass triumphantly down on the table, then swiveled his head immediately looking for a refill.
Jax needed to get to that table. Over the past year of employment at The Rose and Thorn, she’d become something of a drunk whisperer. She was a master of deflecting sloppy come-ons, defusing political rants, and smoothing over hurt feelings.
She didn’t want Breanna or, God forbid, deer-in-the-headlights Tess getting anywhere near that table. But a double-date disaster trapped Jax at the bar. Two suspiciously well-groomed men gave each other bedroom eyes over the heads of their very female dates.
“I don’t like dry,” one of the women in front of Jax pouted as she peered at the tasting menu for the fifth time. “But sometimes I do like dry. Remember that chardonnay we had, Randal? Where was that? ”
Randal didn’t respond right away. Probs because he was too busy mentally undressing the blond man next to him. The blond man’s lips twitched in an excited smile.
“Hey, can we get some service over here?” Rumpled Suit at the assholery table crowed, waving his glass.
Tess scampered over to them.
“The red blend,” Jax said quickly to the woman at the bar.
“How dry is that?”
“The perfect amount. Here. Free tasting.” Jax gave her a generous pour. Maybe alcohol could offer the poor woman the comfort she obviously wasn’t getting tonight from her date.
“Hey, darling,” Rumpled Suit said to Tess. “Aren’t you looking cute today.”
Mayday, mayday. Solider trapped behind enemy lines, Jax thought. She moved toward the end of the tasting bar when a hand grabbed her arm.
“Did you just give that woman a free drink?” Breanna looked majorly pissed.
A necessary sacrifice for the greater good, Jax wanted to explain, but she knew Breanna wouldn’t understand. She gave the other woman a tight smile. “Tell Theo to take it out of my paycheck.”
Theo would do no such thing. They both knew it. Breanna’s eyes sparked with anger. “I will.”
Jax pulled her arm away and stepped around the bar. Things at the assholery table were going from bad to worse.
“Has anyone told you today that you’re beautiful?” Rumpled Suit asked Tess.
Our soldier is taking heavy shelling, Jax thought as she picked up her pace.
Tess smiled uncomfortably. “What would you like? ”
“Come on, stay.” The man loosened his tie. “Talk to me for a bit.”
“She’s busy,” the younger man said. “How about one more glass of the merlot and then we head out?”
Rumpled Suit chuckled. “What do you think, darling? If I order another drink, will you turn around and fetch it so I can see that gorgeous ass?”
Tess took a step back, her face losing color.
“Gary, come on, she’s wearing a wedding ring.” The younger man looked mortified.
Operation Perv Takedown, you are a go! Jax made it to the table. “Congratulations,” she announced.
Gary looked her up and down, his brows crinkled in confusion. “For what?”
“Drinks are on the house, now please leave.”
“Leave?” Gary was slow on the uptake.
“We’re so sorry,” the other man said. He looked to Tess. “Sorry, miss.”
“What’re you sorry about?” Gary winked at Tess. “We’re just having fun. Right, darling?”
“She’s not having fun.” Jax couldn’t keep her tight smile in place any longer. “Now, I’ve asked you to leave. Don’t make me tell you again.”
“Sure, sure.” The younger guy stood up. “I have a card on file. Michael. Please charge it. Gary, come on.”
“What the hell is this?” Gary’s voice rose. Patches of red glowed across his face and neck. “I was giving her a compliment. Women used to like compliments. But now we can’t say any damn thing or they start Me-Tooing us.” He glared at Tess accusingly. “What? I’m not supposed to look?”
“Shit, Gary,” the other guy moaned .
Jax stepped up to Gary, close enough that she could smell his stale breath and see a map of broken veins around his nose. “World’s changed, Gary. Get used to it. Now get the hell out of here.”
“There a problem here, Jax?” Theo’s voice rumbled just over her shoulder.
Jax crossed her arms. “I don’t know. Is there a problem, Gary?”
Heads were beginning to turn, eyes staring at their little confrontation. Gary’s head swiveled. Would he raise the white flag and retreat with some semblance of grace?
“Fuck this place!” Gary hollered.
’Course not.
“I’ma never coming back here.” He staggered to his feet, knocking over his chair. “And I’ll Yelp the shit out of you. Can’t give a woman a compliment anymore. This country is going to hell.”
“Go. Now.” Theo’s voice brooked no argument. “And you’d better not be driving, either.”
“I’m DD,” the younger guy said. “And sorry, again.”
“Zero stars!” Gary yelled, throwing up the bird on both hands while storming through the door. “Negative stars!”
The door swung closed behind them.
“Show’s over,” Theo said to the room. After a few beats of quiet, the hum of dozens of voices filled the room again.
Gary wasn’t the first hostile drunk Jax had kicked out of the place. Not the fifth. Not the tenth. But her heart still pounded behind her ribs. It didn’t get easier or any less terrifying. She squeezed her shaking hands into fists and turned to Tess. “Don’t ever let anyone talk to you like that.”
Theo put a hand on Tess’s slim shoulder. “If someone ever makes you feel uncomfortable, you have my permission to tell them to leave. You don’t need to ask me. Just do it. ”
Over Tess’s head, Jax caught Breanna glowering at them from the swamped tasting bar.
Tess ducked her head, a blush crawling up her neck as a few wisps of auburn hair fell across her eyes. “I just . . . didn’t want to make waves.”
A sick, dark feeling gripped Jax’s stomach. There’d been a time when she hadn’t wanted to make waves. When she’d kept her mouth shut. When she’d been weak.
Never again.
She grabbed Tess’s hands.
“Make waves,” she commanded.
*
At the end of the night, Jax’s feet and lower back ached as she wiped down the tables. She and Theo were the last two standing. Tess had finished her shift three hours before close and Breanna had cut and run as soon as the crowd started to thin, claiming she needed to go to bed early for a yoga class in the morning. With one more comment that the winery was “filthy,” she’d disappeared upstairs into Theo’s small apartment a half hour ago.
Jax knew Theo always paid his girlfriend for a full shift, though Breanna seemed physically incapable of showing up on time or making it all the way through to the end. Probably because she’d had never held a real job in her entire life. News flash: performing chakra alignments on your friends in the back room of a bohemian clothing store and posting 100 selfies and memes a day on Insta to “build your brand” wasn’t a real career.
Jax moved to the next table as Theo restocked the tasting bar. Sweet, wonderful, honest Theo wouldn’t hesitate to toss a drunk jackass out of the winery for hitting on his servers. But when it came to standing up for himself against his own girlfriend? Utter doormat .
“I got a $100 tip from that bachelorette party,” Jax told him to break the silence. “You want any of it for your gigolo services?
Theo snorted. “It was just a kiss on the cheek. The bride needed that center square on her bingo card.” He tucked clean glasses under the bar. “And it was either me or Earl, and his wife would have clobbered those women with a rolling pin if they’d tried to kiss him.” Theo shook his head. “Maggie is a hoot.”
Jax was about to inform her boss that he was three decades too young to ever utter the word hoot when a realization sparked in her mind. Theo had grown up in Yucca Hills. He knew everyone. That included a certain smug reporter.
As much as Jax hated to admit it, Rico had been strutting, peacock-style, through her thoughts all day. She absolutely despised his arrogance even as she admired his grit and conviction. Was it possible to like someone who also made you throw up in your mouth a little?
“Is Rico Torres a friend of yours?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Theo studied a wineglass, rubbed off a streak, then seemed to compute her question. He frowned. “Why? Is he shamelessly flirting with you?”
“I can handle it.”
“I’m going to murder him,” Theo vowed, setting down the glass. “We have a lot of acres on this property. No one will find the body . . . unless they have dogs that sniff out hair product.”
“Fine,” Jax told her boss. “But hold off for a few days, please. I’m writing a profile piece on him to get out of a final.”
“Lord help you.” Theo disappeared into the back. Outside, crickets whined. The tasting room felt almost eerie at night, but Jax liked the way shadows lingered in the corners and how her voice echoed slightly in the nearly empty room. Silence and solace had never bothered her. No, people were at the root of her fear .
When Theo returned with a case of fresh glasses, Jax continued their conversation.
“He grew up here, right?” she asked as she pulled apart the tables the bachelorette party had reoriented.
“Yup.” Theo refilled the shelves with glasses. “He was a few years younger than Hue and me, but we were all friends.”
Bingo. She’d found a background source. “What was he like?” Jax pressed. “What was his family situation?”
Theo sighed. “That’s personal, Jax.”
“Asking what his family was like?” She scrubbed furiously at a mysterious piece of dark gunk on one of the tables.
“He doesn’t really like talking about his past,” Theo hedged.
So that’s how Theo wanted to play it. Fine. Reluctant sources were a common challenge in the news industry. Many times, those with the juiciest information didn’t want to rock the boat or have their comments traced back to them. Great reporters developed a variety of ways to wheedle info from tight-lipped sources. No doubt Rico flattered and flirted his way to big news breaks. Jax had other methods at her disposal. She dropped her rag on the table and walked to the bar.
“I’ll open tomorrow,” she said, “if you give me the goods.”
“The goods?” Theo laughed. “I’m not rolling over on Rico just to get out of opening.”
“But you also need to check the sugar levels on the latest batch of Happy Go Lucky,” Jax said. Theo was insanely fastidious about the fermentation process of all his wines, but he’d been going full anxious penguin about his sauvignon-chardonnay blend.
“I can do that later in the day when Breanna gets back from yoga,” Theo said, though Jax could see the twitch in his jaw from a mile away .
Languidly, she pulled a lollipop from her pocket and slowly unwrapped it. “It’d be a shame if you checked too late, and the balance was off,” she said innocently.
“It won’t be off,” Theo muttered, but his knuckles grew white as he gripped the stems of the wineglasses. “It’s just a few hours. Nothing will happen in a few hours.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Jax slipped the lollipop through her lips and enjoyed the sweet blueberry flavor. She picked up her rag and took one step toward the tables.
“Wait.”
Jax smiled and moved back to the bar. “Spill,” she ordered Theo.
Theo’s shoulders slumped. “What was Rico like growing up? Pretty much the same as he is now. Snarky, stubborn, full of himself. Always had his eyes on the girls. He had an attitude. He was cocky. A lot of kids didn’t like him. He didn’t always have a great time at school.”
Jax turned back and put her elbows on the bar. “He was bullied?” She couldn’t imagine someone like Rico—strong and handsome, brimming with confidence—getting shoved into a locker or taunted by ugly, snarling boys in the school hallway.
“We stood up for him when we could.” Theo carefully set his wineglasses down on the bar. “But that bastard had a way of getting himself into trouble. He’d never back down, not even when it was in his own self-interest.”
Jax laughed around her lollipop. That, at least, she could totally see. “What about his family?”
Theo shook his head. “That’s all you’re getting from me. If you want to know anything else, you’ll need to ask Rico.”
“Sure, of course.” Jax turned away from the bar, even as thoughts swirled in her mind. Rico didn’t want to talk about his past and now Theo was acting twitchy as a Chihuahua on meth about the topic. Rico was hiding something. Something big.
And it was her reporterly duty to figure it out.
*
An hour later, Jax pulled her VW bug into the assigned parking spot at her apartment complex, leaned back in the seat, and sighed. Her eyes were gritty with exhaustion, and her lower back still throbbed from six hours of rushing around the winery.
Bed. She needed to slide beneath her covers and forget the world existed for the next seven hours. Yet, even as her jaw stretched with a heavy yawn, her mind couldn’t stop twisting over the new information she’d learned about Rico. The handsome, charismatic reporter had been bullied as a kid.
Empathy softened the edges of her distaste. She felt for the small, angry boy he must have been. After all, she understood how cruel other kids could be. How anyone different—like a girl with two moms—was ripe for ridicule. Was Rico’s exceedingly annoying cockiness just a coping mechanism? Was his unearned confidence merely a shield? She turned to the passenger seat, hands itching to type her thoughts into her growing Rico research file. Jax stared at the empty seat, specifically at the spot where her messenger bag should be.
Alarm squeezed across her rib cage. Where was her bag? She thought back. She’d brought it into the winery to study for finals on her break. She’d grabbed it on her way out, right?
Right?
The empty passenger seat gave its answer.
Jax wanted to weep.
Instead, she reversed out of her spot.
Ten minutes later, she cruised back down Chaparral Drive, the main drag in Yucca Hills. Shops lined both sides of the street, their windows dark. The sidewalks were mostly empty, save for two figures bundled in sleeping bags at the side of a building. Though most of California’s growing homeless population was found in the major cities, it’d started to spread to surrounding areas over the past few years. Even small, far-flung Yucca Hills wasn’t immune.
Jax squinted ahead, already slowing as she anticipated the sharp turn onto the gravel road leading up the hill to the winery. A flash of headlights caught her eye. She frowned. A car was coming down the hill.
Why?
Perhaps someone had wanted a vino nightcap and hadn’t checked the winery hours. Or maybe it was a confused tourist just using the road to turn around. But why would they have gone so far up the road?
The car barreled down the road, pulling out onto Chaparral just before Jax turned in. She caught a quick view of the iconic BMW emblem racing away. Jax pulled onto the road, still confused.
Didn’t Mayor Bishop own a black BMW? Jax’s fingers tightened on the wheel. What was that bastard up to? Word of his dirty attempt to revoke Theo’s zoning exemption had already spread like wildfire through the town, thanks mostly to Madam Hardgrove’s very robust gossip network. Jax had done her part with a detailed write-up of the city council meeting in the East County Caller .
For the first time in living memory, the Yucca Hills old guard and newcomers were united in their outrage. Some city employee had indeed added a comment page for the motion on the city’s website. Word was so many people were sharing their “opinion” that the city’s website had gone down . . . twice!
Making the mayor look like the douche he was pleased Jax to no end. But she knew this wasn’t the end of the story. Mayor Bishop was planning something for The Rose and Thorn, and it wasn’t good. As soon as finals were over, she was gonna start digging into Bishop with a backhoe.
When Jax arrived at the winery parking lot, she checked the front and side door. Both were still locked. The mayor wouldn’t actually try anything, would he? Using her key, she let herself inside into the darkened tasting room, half fearing she’d see the tables smashed and graffiti on the wall.
Nothing. The room was just as she’d left it after closing. Jax swung in the back, grabbed her messenger bag, and departed, making triple sure to lock the side door behind her.
*
Just before 11:00 p.m., Jax dragged herself up the stairs to her apartment, her messenger bag hanging off her shoulder. Bed. Bed. Bed, she chanted to herself with each step. Another yawn tore through her. She stepped onto her landing and paused. Stared down at her feet.
In front of the door sat a gift-wrapped box swaddled in a huge bow.
The hell? She picked it up. Pressed an ear to it. No ticking. That was a start. Was it for Haley? Had her roommate already managed to find a new boy toy at rehab? Jax glanced at the label.
Jacklyn Costas it said in flowery cursive. No return address.
Weird and weirder. After unlocking the door, she entered her apartment and flicked on the lights.
“Meeeeow?”
Turns out, cats can sound annoyed. Jax learned something new every day. Styles padded lightly from Haley’s room, his expression clearly pissed from inside his cone.
“Sorry, kitty. I know you’re hungry, but it was a looong day at work.” Jax set the mystery gift on the coffee table and went to the kitchen. Even as she reached into the pantry for a can of cat food, her mind returned to Rico.
She’d planned to write his profile tomorrow morning, but now she had to be at the winery at 10:30 a.m. in order to open at 11:00. Would that give her enough time?
Sure, if she didn’t sleep in. No hate-watching Love Island tonight.
Jax stared at the half-filled shelves of the pantry. What the hell was she going to write? On the one hand, the man was utterly insufferable. On the other, he was a passionate reporter. He’d been concerned for her safety at the sewage plant. She remembered how his smirk had faded away while they worked on the story together, replaced by an authentic, heart-melting smile. He’d been kind. Witty. Even just the tiniest bit vulnerable. In those afternoon hours at the station, she’d caught glimpses of a different person beneath his bluster.
A person she liked. A person she felt tantalizingly drawn to.
“MEEEEOOOOW!”
Styles stood at her feet, a look of fury on his little face.
“Oh. Right.” She’d been holding the tin of cat food and staring into the middle distance like a space cadet. Jax quickly opened the can, scooped its contents into the cat’s food dish, and set it down next to him.
While Styles gorged himself on tuna and gravy like it was a feast for kings, Jax emptied his water dish and refilled it with filtered water from the fridge. Smiling, she stroked the cat’s back, then wandered into the living room. Kicking off her heavy boots, she collapsed on the couch.
Rico Torres, asshole or possibly somewhat decent person? Which version of him should she show in her profile? Succumbing to another yawn, she spotted the gift in its shiny red wrapping paper. Curiosity and apprehension prickled through her. Who would give her a present? Her birthday was three months away. Could it be from the Crazy Cat Ladies?
She took the box off the table and set it on her lap. After a few more seconds of hesitation, she pulled off the bow, dragged down the ribbon, and peeled away the paper. Popping off the white lid of the box, Jax rummaged through clouds of tissue paper and pulled out a slinky piece of fabric.
At first, she thought it was a negligée. Smoothing out the russet-pink fabric, she realized it was actually a skimpy, low-necked tennis dress.
Tennis. A shiver carved through the center of her body. Even the thought of wearing a dress like that filled her stomach with inky darkness.
Jax balled up the dress and threw it across the room. She shoved the box off her lap. It fell on its side, and a cream-colored card slid from the layers of delicate tissue paper. She plucked up the card and read the stylish writing.
To the beautiful Jacklyn. I hope I get to see you wearing this on the court soon.
Yours,
Rico
Slowly, Jax crumpled the note in her hand. Then she pulled her laptop from her bag, flipped it open, and began to type.