Risking the Vine (Romancing the Vine Book 1) (17 page)

Cold reason doused Jac at the mention of Rowena. She couldn’t tell Luke about the setback Ro’s ineptitude had dealt her. With everything he had on his plate, she wouldn’t add anything else to it. Their relationship was too new for her to dump it on him.

“Yeah. She’s planning a move into town, so the house will be mine by the end of the week.” If she could pay off the enormous debt Rowena had ignored. The mere thought encouraged another bout of anxiety. She resisted the urge to sink lower in the bed and pull the covers over her head.

“You still planning to move to Eugene?” Luke asked, his voice flat.

“Not for a few weeks.”

They’d have some time together before she moved over a hundred miles away from him.
More time to lose her heart to him.

She slammed the brakes on the thought.

“We’ll work a schedule out for seeing each other as often as we can. I have a college friend who spent the first three years of his marriage in Minneapolis while his wife worked in Dallas. We can do this. What we have is too special to let go.”

She didn’t reply. Couldn’t make the words come. Jac’s fingers tensed around the edge of the blanket. Maybe they’d make it work for a while, but with the miles and their schedules, and the unknown of starting a brand new venture, could they really make a go of it?

“It will work, Jac. You have to trust me.”

“I want to. Luke, we have to be realistic. Nothing would be sadder than trying to fit a round relationship into a square hole. I don’t want that for either of us. We should just enjoy what we have until . . .”

Luke’s breath crashed out, stinging against her ear. “Don’t give up on us yet, Jacqui. Now that I’ve found you, I refuse to let you go. If we set our minds to it, we’ll figure this out.”

Chapter 15

Her time with Luke made Jac late for breakfast. She’d grabbed a half a bagel from the sideboard, smeared a dab of honey-nut cream cheese on it, and gobbled it as she walked with Sally and Jeff to the pavilion.

“You’re glowing, Jacqui,” Jeff observed. “You must have gotten a great night’s sleep.”

Heat built in her cheeks. “Um, yeah. I did sleep well,” she lied. Truth was, she didn’t sleep much. Waking up in such a blissful way would surely make her glow. Good thing Luke hadn’t come downstairs late with her. There’d be no end to the razzing.

Time to change the subject
. “Sally, where’s your partner today?”

Sally’s brows pinched together. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

A little trouble with the Bickersons?
Before Jac could follow up, Jules joined their group and talk shifted to the morning’s challenge.

The task required the team to build a four-foot tower of corks. The exercise focused on team building through communication, support, and relationships.

Distracted, Jac failed miserably at the morning’s team activity.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized to Jules for their last place finish. She cast a baleful glance at Jeff and Steve who were high-fiving and booty-shaking over their victory. “I’m not focused this morning. Lots on my mind. It kind of sucks that the owner of the team building camp placed last.”

“No worries.” Jules grinned as she wrestled a lid onto the barrel of corks. “It’s good to let the other guys win. Better for morale. Although, lunch might be a trifle unbearable if the insurance guys continue celebrating.”

“I’ll bet you’ll be glad to see the last of all of us.”

Jules let her gaze rove over the other teams as they tidied their work areas. She pitched her voice low. “Well, maybe some of you. I’m glad you’re staying an extra night. I pulled some more Ag stuff to go over tonight.”

“Is any of it about financing?” Jac regretted her glum tone the second the words were out of her mouth. She forced her next words to the brighter side. “My cousin is an idiot.”

“Huh?” Jules raised one delicately arched eyebrow.

“Nothing. I’ll explain later.” Jac shut down her negative thoughts as Sally approached.

“Too bad you guys lost. But at least you’re still talking. Belinda acts like us placing second is all my fault,” Sally grumbled. “She kept knocking over the stack of corks with her damn chunky bracelet. I told her to take it off before we started. She never listens.”

Jac doubted the lady lawyers would ever work well as a team. She murmured an excuse about checking in with her office.

Jules stopped her departure with a hand on her arm. “You’ll need to join us for the luncheon. We have one final exercise and the awards ceremony. Marcus has some great categories this time. Thirty minutes, okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll have a reason to get off the phone with Deidre. See you in a bit.” Jac waved. Her steps grated on the crushed shell path leading to the main house.

She heard footsteps hurrying behind her. When she turned, Jules trotted up to her.

“If you’re up for a little more painting, I’d love to have you join me at the cottage this afternoon. I’m painting my new living room. I’ll even supply the mid-afternoon ice cream break. I have a half-gallon of Death By Chocolate in my freezer. It really will cure whatever ails you.” She rubbed her stomach and finished on a big grin.

Tipping her head to the side, Jac asked, “How did you know chocolate is my sin-food?”

“Girl, it’s every woman’s sin-food. You get a double dip. And I have the perfect wine to go with it.”

A girlfriend. That’s what Jules was becoming. And Jac liked it. “It’s a deal. See you at lunch.”

Twenty minutes later, Jac had checked in with Deidre, who’d assured her everything was running smooth as clockwork. Valerie, one of her other co-workers, told a different story.

“That’s rich. Deedle-Dum is tripping in Wonderland if she thinks things are going well. Ted’s lived on the phone all morning long with client after client. Second cycle billing went out yesterday and big surprise! It was wrong because someone forgot to change multipliers.” Valerie released a disgusted snort.

“Wait, I left her detailed instructions on how to do this run. Why didn’t she use them?” Jac demanded. In spite of the looming issues she faced with the county tax bill, leaving was fast sliding into the ‘it’s-the-only-choice’ column.

“Oh, she used them. As a coaster for her coffee cup. You know she’s a slob. She spilled all over them.”

Shaking her head, Jac sighed. “Didn’t you offer your copy of them?”

“Hell yes, I did!” Valerie screeched. “She said she remembered the steps and she’d do it herself. Bitch is my boss. Who am I to argue with her?”

“Valerie!”

“Oops, Ted just got off the phone and he’s heading this way. Jac, speak up, I can hardly hear you. No, you’re breaking up. Jac? Jac? Damn I lost her.” the woman’s voice faded. “Sorry, Ted. The phone lines at the camp must be all jacked up—”

Jac snickered as Valerie disconnected. As soon as things started ticking along at the farm, she was definitely going to recruit the woman to join her. Lord only knew what she’d find for her to do, but she liked Valerie’s fast thinking and sense of loyalty.

The luncheon was filled with laughter. True to Jules’ prediction, Marcus had come up with a few great awards. No one was spared. Jac won Best Painted Lady. Laughter had pealed from her when Marcus bowed and gifted her with a paint stirrer dipped in whitewash, with the category and
Champion
scrawled on it in gold.

Jeff and Jeremy received toy microphones as prizes for their Karaoke rendition of ‘Moon River’ at the concert Jac had missed. Belinda blushed a garish shade of red as she and Sally received the Bickerson’s award for most improved. As far as Jac was concerned, the improvement was a result of the women not speaking to each other during the final exercise.

Sweet musical notes filled the dining room as Jules tapped the end of her knife against her crystal water goblet. “I have one final thing to announce. Ordinarily, the artwork you all created on the first day is put up for sale in the gift shop. I sent pictures of what you made this week to a friend of mine who runs an art gallery in Santa Rosa.”

She sent a warm glance toward Jac. “She wants to create a local art display in her shop, with Jacqui’s and Luke’s picture as a centerpiece. She’s even willing to forego her commission, since the proceeds are meant for a charity. She’s agreed to take all the pieces your teams made and display them for a month.”

“What? Oh, how marvelous.” Sally clapped her hands together.

“Hold on!” Belinda, the voice of dissent, grated out. “I never agreed to this.”

Jules’ nostrils flared, but she maintained a pleasant expression. “Actually, you did. You signed the waiver to attend the sessions. You did read it, didn’t you?”

How funny would it be if the lawyer was the only one to not read the legal document? Jac had read it and signed it happily.

Belinda set her fork down with deliberation. “Your waiver won’t hold up. I do not want my piece on display in a gallery. I’m a professional for God’s sake, not an artist.”

The slap of Sally’s hand on the wooden table cracked through the air. “Belinda, shut the hell up. You’ve done nothing but act ornery and contrary all week long. God, you go out of your way to make it hard to work together. This is for charity. Displaying the art in a big shop in Santa Rosa will go a long way toward fetching a better price.”

She frowned at Belinda and her lips went thin, before continuing. “I read the waiver Jules is speaking of and she was generous enough to make sure participants can use the proceeds from any sales as a tax deductible charitable contribution. Did you read any of the clauses? Besides, no one in this part of California knows who the hell you are.”

Jac shoved her hands under her thighs to keep from applauding Sally’s sudden outburst. The woman could stop looking for a spine donor. She’d grown one all by herself.

Belinda opened her mouth, but snapped it shut without saying anything. The chair creaked as she slumped back in it. Same as any bully, once she’d been called on her bad temper, she wasn’t sure how to behave.

It surprised Jac how tough it was to say goodbye to her fellow team builders. She’d gotten to know them fairly well in the past week. At least well enough to be able to remember names for FIG, DIG, and the rest of the insurance agents. Overall, they were a fun group. It didn’t surprise her to see a wedding band on FIG—rather, Jeff. She noticed it when he gripped the handle of his luggage.

He stopped by the chair Jac had claimed on the porch right after lunch and gave her a card emblazoned with contact information. “If you ever need insurance, I hope you’ll give me a call. I’ll help if I can.”

She studied the card. It read
Jeff Sloan, Property and Casualty Insurance
. “Do you offer crop insurance? Are you licensed in Oregon?” Would she even need crop insurance?

Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t, but I know a guy.”

Of course. Guys like him always knew guys. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

The screen door banged against the wall. Belinda burst through it as Jeff moved down the stairs to the path. She nodded curtly as she strode onto the porch rolling her suitcase after her. The large black designer duffle bag bounced drunkenly down the steps, clattering all the way. Jeff leapt off the path and let her speed past him.

Sally dropped her bag by the porch railing and came over to Jac. She bent over and wrapped her arms around Jac’s shoulders in an awkward bear-hug. The woman’s bony shoulder dug into Jac’s windpipe when Sally tightened her grip. Jac wheezed in a breath when Sally finally released her.

“It was so great meeting you. You are a true team player, even covered with paint.” Sally cast a gimlet eye toward her traveling companion, who cursed loudly as she struggled to load her bag into the trunk of the black Mercedes. Sally hitched her laptop bag higher on her shoulder, her knuckles white around the strap. “I think I’d have enjoyed this more if you’d been my partner after Luke left. I’m going to have to pretend to work the whole flight home to New York.”

Not knowing what kind of response was required, Jac settled for saying, “Travel safely.”

Steve walked out the door and saluted them with two fingers. He stopped by Sally’s luggage and shifted his own suitcase to his left hand. “You want me to carry your bag, Sally?”

“Sure, thanks.” A broad grin illuminated her face as Steve bent and grasped the red handles of the bag.

As the noise of the departing cars faded, the rustle of the leaves in the vineyard took over, leaving Jac with a sense of peace and contentment she’d only ever found in a rural setting.

Excitement for the next chapter of her life flared lightning bright and irresistible.

Chapter 16

“I’m telling you, Bella, if I don’t get this thing with the county assessor worked out, I won’t have a farm.” Jac hated the whiny taint in her voice, it frustrated her almost as much as the debt. She’d called her friend for moral support before she had to report to Jules’ cottage for painting detail.

After the initial shock of the amount of money Jac needed to come up with, Bella tossed suggestions out, rapid-fire style. “Can you get an investor? Someone who will front the money in exchange for your expertise? Or how about a small business loan? Maybe the university in Eugene has some kind of start-up incubator program with grants.”

“All great suggestions, Bella. Even a few I hadn’t thought of myself.” Jac huffed out a discouraged breath. “Without experience and knowledge of growing herbs, it’s doubtful any backer would consider my operation as a solid investment. No one in their right mind would find my skill level adequate.”

“You can’t give up. Now that you’ve decided to ditch Ted’s company, you can’t go back there.”

Jac gazed out the window in her room, the pretty scenery merely a blur. “This is just a setback, Bel. It isn’t the end of my dream. I have some money saved. At the very least, with whatever Rowena is able to kick in, and maybe a loan from Dad, I can raise half the funds. If I don’t sell the condo I can take a second mortgage on it for the balance.”

Unfortunately, paying the debt out of funds she’d earmarked for start-up expenses meant she’d probably have to work for MedServices, with Deidre as her boss for at least another year. She shuddered at the thought, turning from the window.

“I freaking hate this!” Bella exploded. “I wish I had an extra fifty grand laying around. You know it would be yours.”

Jac imagined the belligerent glower on her friend’s face. A warm glow of affection suffused her. “And I love you for that, Bella. But the only way you’d be allowed to help is with redecorating the farmhouse once I move in.” Bella had exquisite taste and had helped Jac decorate her condo when she’d first bought it.

“Paint, carpentry, moving furniture. Whatever you need, Jackay!”

Her friend’s use of the pet name she’d dubbed her with made Jac’s smile even bigger. “Yeah, well, Belleesima, speaking of painting, I’m supposed to help Jules paint this afternoon, so I’d better get going. I can’t wait to introduce you two. I know you’ll hit it off. Maybe you and I will come back here in the spring for a girls’ weekend.”

After disconnecting their chat with assurances she’d call if plans with Luke fell through tomorrow, Jac changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, wiggling her toes into a pair of flip-flops until they fit comfortably. Light-hearted for the first time since she received Ro’s email, she made her way to Jules’ charming little cottage.

After the second hour of rolling paint onto the stucco wall in Jules’ living room, Jac’s arm and shoulders ached. The cottage was small, with two bedrooms off an open-concept main area. There were clear sight lines from the kitchen and dining room into the cozy living room. At the moment, all the furniture had been pushed to the center of the room and covered in clear plastic drop-cloths. From the sound dock on the kitchen counter, Mumford and Sons encouraged them with lyrics about a little lion man.

Jules had picked a rich cinnamon color for one wall. Too bad the paint wasn’t going on smoothly.

Jac set her roller in the drip pan. After arching her back, she rolled her shoulders to ease some of the strain building at the base of her neck.

Next to her, Jules tilted her head and worked her jaw back and forth. “Man, I’m stiff.” She eyed the wall. “Don’t know what I was thinking to choose this dark of a color. Must have been out of my mind.” She laid her brush across the top of the paint can.

“It’s a lovely color. Priming the walls first would have helped. Especially since it’s so vibrant. Every little imperfection will show.” Jac stepped back and scanned their work. It was streaked, but not horribly. “Um, we’re going to need another coat.”

Jules jammed paint-splattered hands on her hips. “I think we need an ice cream break now.”

Wiping her fingers on a damp rag, Jac nodded vigorously. “I’m game.”

Jules swept into the kitchen, and after scrubbing off most of the traces of reddish-brown paint, she pulled two colorful bowls from the glass-fronted cabinets over the quartz counters. Jac washed her hands in the black, farmhouse sink. A cool breeze bathed her back when Jules retrieved the tub of ice cream from the stainless steel freezer compartment.

Jac’s mouth watered as Jules scooped generous portions of frozen vanilla riddled with ribbons of chocolate and caramel and chunks of peanut butter and dark chocolate.

Jules added a spoon to one bowl and pushed it across the counter. “So, you want to tell me what’s going on? You barely said five sentences in the past two hours. If I knew you better, I’d say you were brooding.”

“Hmmm.” Jac let a spoonful of the delicious treat melt on her tongue before answering. “Brooding is pretty close to right.”

“Is it Luke?” Jules mashed her spoon into her bowl and stirred. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but you guys seem, I don’t know, kind of close.”

“Not Luke. We’re fine. I’m seeing him tomorrow night, back in Medford.”

“Oh, good. You’re perfect for each other.”

Jac laughed. “Matchmaker and team builder? Pretty impressive résumé.”

“It doesn’t take a matchmaker to realize Luke’s over the moon for you. I saw the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you at dinner the other night.” Jules licked caramel off the back of her spoon. “Like you were a delicacy he wanted to sample.”

He had done some licking before the dinner Jules was talking about. Heat climbed Jac’s cheeks. “Um, making me a bit uncomfortable here. I think I’d rather talk about finance or politics than whether Luke Rossi wants to lick me.”

“Okay, but I bet he can do great things with his tongue.” Even white teeth peeked out of Jules’ wide, teasing grin. The grin faded to a more serious look. She lowered her brow. “If you aren’t going to talk about Luscious Luke, tell me what’s bugging you.”

Surprised laughter ripped from Jac’s mouth. “Oh, my God. My friend Bella calls him Luscious Luke. Apparently, all the ladies hospital call him that.”

“Aw, dang. No points for originality.” Jules smiled as she vigorously swirled her spoon in the bowl, turning her ice cream into frosty soup. “So for real, what’s got your panties in a twist?”

“I spoke to my cousin yesterday. She’s living at the farm, pretty much rent-free. All she had to do was pay the taxman. Seems she forgot. For three years.”

Jules’ spoon clinked against the ceramic bowl. “What the hell? How do you forget for three years? I can’t believe someone didn’t call her on it before. Like maybe someone with the county. Don’t they send bills or something? My county does.”

Jac tried to downplay her cousin’s stupidity. “Apparently, she’s ignored the reminders. So now, with the original bill and late fees and penalties, I have to come up with fifty grand soon, or the property will be sold at auction.”

“Oh, no!” Jules resumed stirring the contents of her bowl. “How horrible. How long do you have? What are you going to do?”

Crossing her legs under the counter, Jac squirmed on the stool and shrugged. “Ask my parents to lend me some money. Apply to the Small Business Administration for a loan. Sell my condo in Medford. Great options, if I can work it all out. Still, they’ll barely cause a ripple in this particular sea of debt.” Her dream of running the farm grew dimmer as she rattled off her options.

She carefully set her spoon into the bowl, the chocolate and peanut butter ribbons of her dessert suddenly turning to cold defeat in her mouth. “I could try to find a partner, or get contracts with some spice company who will agree to advance me the funds in exchange for the crops I grow. But I doubt any corporation would be willing take a chance on a newbie operation. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Jules patted the back of Jac’s hand. Then she reached into a drawer and retrieved a wine opener. Scooting over to the wine chiller by the sink, she dug through the bottles resting there, finally pulling out a dark green bottle.

She held it aloft. “One of our best whites. Unoaked chardonnay. You can do the honors.” She set the bottle and opener down in front of Jac with a
thunk
. From one of the glass-fronted cabinets, she pulled out two supersized wine glasses. “We’re knocking off for the day. I know it’s only three, but if ever there was a time for wine, now would be it.”

“What about cleaning up?” Jac gestured to the mess in the living room. “We should take care of that first.”

“Do you ever get sick of being the responsible one?” Jules teased, her tone filled with fun. Rooting under the sink, she snagged a roll of black plastic trash bags. “A little trick I learned from the painter who redid the dining room at the big house. Go ahead, pour the wine. I’ll take care of putting this other shit away.”

She pulled two bags off the roll and snapped one open, tucking the other under her arm as she strode to where they’d left the paint trays. Jac poured a good measure of wine into the goblets Jules had furnished, while her new friend maneuvered the still loaded tray inside the trash bag. After squeezing out extra air, she efficiently knotted the bag closed.

Jac took her first sip of the really excellent wine, watching as Jules slipped the other tray, complete with the roller, into another bag.

Jules upended the contents of another small plastic bag. Brushes, stirrers, a pack of sandpaper, and an extra roll of clear plastic drop cloths scattered over the floor at her feet. She collected the brush she’d been using and wrapped it tightly in a Home Depot bag.

Parcel and covered paint trays stacked neatly, she tapped the lid back on the opened paint can, righted herself, and dusted her hands together. “Done. Easy, easy clean up.”

“I’ve never seen it done that way before,” Jac marveled. “But I’ll remember the Jules method next time I have to paint. With any luck, it will be the kitchen in the farmhouse. It was covered with dingy, dirty yellow paper last time I was there.”

Jules joined her at the counter. She picked up the second goblet and saluted before taking a large gulp. “If you’re really nice, maybe I’ll come for a weekend and help you. It’s only fair, right?”

“You’re on.” Jac knew the grin on her face was dopey. She couldn’t help it. It would be good to have Jules on her team again. Jac rinsed the ice cream bowls in the sink, and laid them in the dish drainer.

Bottle in one hand, her wine stem in the other, Jules jerked her head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go sit on the porch at the big house and savor this really good vintage. Right now is the best time to relax there. The light is just perfect in early fall.”

“You don’t have to ask twice.”

Jac followed Jules to the golf cart they’d left parked in front of the cottage.

Marcus came out to the porch as they walked up the crushed shell path to the house, laughing like drunken schoolgirls. “Weren’t you ladies supposed to be painting?”

Jules threaded her arm through Jac’s as they climbed the steps. “Painting is for people who don’t have wine to drink.”

When Marcus smiled, his face crinkled like ripped open wrapping paper. He looked pointedly at the high-tech black watch on his left wrist. “Isn’t it a little early in the day for what appears is going to be copious amounts of wine swilling?”

They hit the top step and Jules stretched up to pat the man’s cheek. “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. Don’t be a buzzkill. This is still our first glass. We’ve only just begun.”

He lifted one brow and tipped his head, the gesture silently screaming
oh, really
.

Jules’ lighthearted laughter echoed off the bead-board ceiling of the porch. Jac set her mostly-full glass and her cell phone on a table nestled between two cushioned Adirondack chairs. Perched on the porch railing, she watched Jules, so warm and easygoing, interact with her assistant manager. Hell, she’d even treated Belinda with cool dignity and professionalism. Jac had battled the constant urge to salute the lawyer with her middle finger.

A text alert sounded on Jac’s phone, the crystal tone pinging prettily. Pushing from the railing, she dropped onto one of the chairs to consult the display, uttering a silent prayer it would be Luke.

Ah, prayers were answered occasionally. She dragged her finger across the screen and accessed the message.

Do you need a hired hand on the farm? Boss being a douche and nurses’ rep isn’t buying it. Quiet life in country looks very attractive right now. Especially if you’re there
.

A part of Jac was sorry that Luke wasn’t having a good day. But the section ruled by her heart and the hidden place between her legs throbbed at the idea of a rural lifestyle with Luke. Plus, having him in Eugene would solve the problems associated with a long-distance relationship, including a chance to stray.

She smiled as she replied.
Always room for someone with mad Excel spreadsheet skills
. And his mad skills in bed didn’t hurt either.

She sent another text to Luke.
Negotiations not going well
?

While Jac waited for a reply, Jules grasped Marcus’ arm and dragged the beefy man to the other side of the porch. He bent to hear as she whispered fiercely into his ear.

A wren in a nearby tree trilled its sweet song. Jac sipped her wine, her glass gleaming as it caught the mid-afternoon sun. She leaned against the back cushion of the comfortable chair and closed her eyes.

As she let her mind drift back to their conversation . . . their adventure in phone sex this morning . . . heat bloomed over her skin from chest to hairline. Imagining his hands on her body was good, but not nearly as good as the real thing. Her breasts tingled with the memory of his hands and lips on them. She covered her eyes with her free hand and breathed slowly, deeply . . . pretending that each time her chest rose, his hand cupped the soft flesh there. Thank heavens for her excellent imagination.