Something in the Wine (7 page)

Annie chuckled, a sound that made Drew’s skin tingle.

Stop it!

“He already warned me about your devious intentions,” Annie said.

Drew laughed.
She’s got a great sense of humor once she lets herself relax.

“I told him you invited me to a private wine tasting,” Annie said. “I know we said it would be best to stick as close to the truth as possible, but—”

“It’s fine.” Drew grinned. “Are you trying to ask me out on a second date, Ms. Prideaux?”

For a moment, only the soft sounds of Annie’s breathing filtered through the line, and Drew imagined Annie blushing, searching for words.

“That could be arranged,” Drew said before Annie could answer. “How about next weekend? I could give you a tour through the vineyards, followed by a private wine tasting.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Annie said, all hints of laughter now gone from her tone. “We just need to pretend to have a second ‘date,’ not actually have one.”

“Like I said, it’s better to stay as close to the truth as possible, so why not do that wine tasting? It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other a little.”

“All right,” Annie said after hesitating for a few seconds.

“How about Saturday at four?”

Paper rustled, then Annie said, “Can we make it five?”

“Sure.”

“Can I bring anything?”

Amazing how different from her brother Annie was. Whenever Jake dropped by, he emptied a bottle of her best wine without ever thinking to contribute anything. “No,” Drew said. “Just yourself. Do you need directions?”

“No, I’ll just punch your address into my GPS.”

Ah.
Drew smiled.
Of course she has a GPS. I should’ve known. She’s such a geek.

Annie cleared her throat. “So I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Drew said. “Sweet dreams.”

After Annie answered with a simple “good night,” Drew ended the call and turned off the light. She settled down to sleep with a smile on her lips.

Chapter 3

“Do you have a minute?”

Annie looked up from her progress report to see Jonathan Poynter, her new colleague, lingering in the doorway. She waved him in. “Sure.” She made another note in the report before she focused on her visitor.

He smoothed down his well-groomed blond beard while he walked toward her. When he reached her desk, he stopped and looked around. “Nice office,” he said. “I like the way you arranged the furniture.”

Annie raised one brow. He wasn’t here to compliment her sense of interior design, was he? “What can I do for you?”

“Virgil explained the software the firm uses yesterday, but it’s very different from everything I used before.” He sent her a helpless smile. “Can you show me again how to import the data and create a chart for the client’s expenses?”

One glance at the clock showed her that she had twenty minutes before her next appointment, so she nodded. “Come around this side, and I’ll show you.”

When Jonathan rounded the desk and leaned over her shoulder to see the screen, a wave of his too heavy aftershave hit Annie.

She wrinkled her nose and started to breathe through her mouth. A few clicks of her mouse and she had the software open. She showed Jonathan how to import the client’s data from QuickBooks.

“You’re really good at this,” Jonathan said. “How long have you worked for Cargill & Jones?”

Annie kept her gaze on the screen. “Six years.”

“Are you a local, or—”

“No, I’m not,” Annie said in a tone that didn’t invite further questions. Discussing the details of her private life always made her uncomfortable, especially in a work context. “Make sure you check the imported data for any mistakes. Once you’ve done that, you—”

The ringing of Annie’s phone interrupted her.

She lifted one finger to tell Jonathan to give her a moment and reached for the phone. “Cargill & Jones, Annie Prideaux speaking.”

“Good morning, Ms. Prideaux. This is Bill Moxley. I’m not sure if you remember. I was thinking about investing in a new tractor the last time we spoke.”

“Of course I do, Mr. Moxley. You said it might be better to wait until next year.”

“Yes, but now I’m not so sure.”

Annie suppressed a sigh. Why did her clients change their minds all the time? “Okay,” she said, careful not to let any hint of impatience show, “how can I help you with your decision?”

“I know this is short notice, but I have a good offer. The thing is just that I need to make a decision today. Can you pencil me in to go over the numbers with me?”

Typical. First he waited until the last moment and then he expected her to work miracles. Annie clicked on her appointment book. If she pushed the appointment with Mrs. Baker back a little and shortened her lunch break, it could work. “Can you meet me at half past twelve?”

“Yes, that works out great for me. Thank you so much.”

When Annie put down the phone and looked over her shoulder, Jonathan smiled at her. “You’re really good with the clients too.”

“It’s necessary if you want a career in accounting. You’ll work with people just as much as you’ll work with numbers.” It hadn’t come naturally for Annie, but by now, she was used to dealing with even the most difficult clients.

“No problem for me. I like people.” Jonathan grinned at her.

Annie nodded and turned back to the screen. “Where were we? Ah, yes. You click on this icon,” she used her pen to point out what she meant on the screen, “choose the colors and categories, click here—and voila: the software creates the chart you want.” She enlarged the multi-colored pie chart. “See?”

Jonathan leaned close to take a look at her computer screen. “That’s all I need to do?”

“Yes. It’s easy once you get to know the program.”

“It seemed much more complicated when Virgil explained it. You’re a great teacher.” Jonathan lightly touched her shoulder. “Thank you so much for taking the time to help me.”

Annie interrupted the contact by leaning forward and putting her pen back in the penholder. “You’re welcome.” She still remembered how at sea she had felt when she had first started working as an accountant, so she didn’t mind sharing her knowledge. “If you have any other questions, just come over and ask me.”

“Thanks. I will.” Jonathan straightened from his bent-over position behind Annie’s desk chair and headed to the door.

“Oh, and Jonathan?”

He turned and looked at her with the expectant gaze of a child on Christmas morning. “Jon, please.”

Annie didn’t nod. She had known Jonathan for just three days, so calling him by a nickname felt too familiar. “Remember to back up all your data before you close the software.”

Jonathan’s smile dimmed. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Thanks again.” He squeezed past Sarah, who was just entering Annie’s office, and hurried down the hall.

“What’s going on with Jonathan?” Sarah asked as she plopped down in the visitor’s chair. “He didn’t even say hello to me.”

Annie shrugged and picked up a pen to twirl it through her fingers. “He seemed a bit hyper, but maybe that’s just the stress of starting a new job.”

“Stress? I don’t think so.” A knowing smile spread over Sarah’s face. She twisted a reddish lock of hair around her finger. “Has he asked you out yet?”

Annie blinked. “Who?”

“The pope.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Jonathan, of course! Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that he’s totally smitten with you?”

“What?” Annie threw her pen down. “Where did you get that crazy idea?”

“I’m not the only one who thinks so,” Sarah said, still twisting her hair around her finger. “Linda said he almost fell over himself to help you make copies of Mr. Dettman’s files yesterday.”

Great. That’s how office rumors get started.
Annie rubbed her forehead. “He was just being friendly, and it gave him a chance to learn the copy machine. That’s all.”

“Maybe. But he’s also grinning like an idiot every time he sees you, and I don’t think he’s wearing that extra-splash of aftershave to impress Mr. Cargill.”

“You’re imagining things. He’s just grateful for my help. And maybe he just puts on so much aftershave because he has a body odor problem.”

Sarah freed her finger from her hair and pointed at Annie. “Think what you want, oh clueless one. But if he asks you out before the end of the week, you owe me lunch.”

It wouldn’t happen anyway, so Annie nodded. “Fine. And if he doesn’t ask me out, you pay for lunch.” Maybe that would teach Sarah that not everything was about dating, romance, and relationships.

“Deal. So are you coming to the book club meeting on Saturday?” Sarah asked.

Annie shook her head. “Not this week.”

Sarah’s bright red lips twisted into an expression of dismay. “Oh, come on. You can clean your apartment—or whatever it is you’re doing—another time. You’ve got to come. We’re discussing that Carol O’Connell novel you wanted us to read for months.”

“Yeah, I know.” Part of Annie was tempted to cancel the wine tasting. Maybe this whole idea was just crazy. But then she mentally shook her head. If she gave up, Jake would have the last laugh—as he always did. For once, she wanted to beat him at his own game. “I’ve already got plans.”

“Ooooh!” Sarah leaned forward. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a date!”

Now it was Annie’s turn to roll her eyes. Sarah saw romance everywhere. “No date. A ... a friend invited me to a wine tasting.”

Sarah grinned. “Friend, huh?”

“Yes, friend. Did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a one-track mind?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sarah stood and sauntered toward the door, where she turned and winked at Annie. “My boyfriend. But, of course, he doesn’t mind.”

Annie folded her arms on her desk, rested her head on top of them, and groaned.

Chapter 4

When her mother opened the door with blue streaks on her forehead, Annie knew she would clean up the attic alone.

“Oh, hi, darling,” her mother said and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Is it ten already? Do you mind waiting? I need to finish the sky before the paint I mixed dries out. I’m working on a seascape for an exhibition in December. Did I tell you about it?”

Annie, used to not getting to answer when her mother started talking about art, followed her into the house. “Yes, you did. I can get started on the attic if you want.”

“No, come and keep me company and catch me up on how you’re doing,” her mother said.

A Chinese vase nearly crashed to the floor when Annie ran into it.
What’s going on with her?
She couldn’t remember the last time her mother took the time to get caught up on the events in Annie’s life. Eyeing her mother cautiously, Annie followed her to the studio.

Her mother instantly disappeared behind an easel. “So how’s work?”

“A little stressful,” Annie said. “My boss gave me a big account. The client is one of the biggest landowners in the county, so it’s pretty exciting to work on a project of that size.”

“That’s nice, darling,” her mother said without looking up from her painting. “Can you hand me that cloth over there?”

Annie pressed her lips together and handed her the cloth.
No “I’m proud of you.”
Neither of her parents had ever told her that, nor had they ever told her that they loved her.
I don’t know why I expected today to be different.

“After we clean up the attic, can you stay a little longer and help me pack some of the paintings for the exhibition?” her mother asked.

“Sorry,” Annie said. “I can’t.”

“Great,” her mother said. “Then we’ll—” She stopped and stepped out from behind her easel to stare at Annie.

Annie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry. Maybe I can come over and help you tomorrow. I’m invited to a wine tasting tonight, so I have to leave here around two.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” her mother said again and disappeared behind her easel. “So who invited you? Anyone I know?” She sounded distracted, as if most of her attention was not on the conversation anymore.

“No,” Annie said. Her parents didn’t know any of her friends. “It’s someone I just recently met.”

“A new friend?” Her mother stuck her head around the easel and grinned at Annie. “Or are you dating someone new? It’s high time you did, darling. How long has it been since Patrick broke up with you? A year?”

Annie picked up an empty palette and stared at the remains of dried colors. “Three,” she mumbled. “And I was the one who broke up with him. Besides, I’m not dating Drew.” She hesitated, then decided to tell her mother about her plan to trick Jake. “Although Jake tried to set us up. You won’t believe the prank he pulled on me. He—”

“You know how he is. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” her mother said. “Have you seen the tube of magenta?”

Annie’s shoulders slumped. Without saying another word, she went in search of the demanded color. “Here.” She handed over the tube.