Risking the Vine (Romancing the Vine Book 1) (18 page)

Her phone chirped, pulling her back to the present.
Nope. Done for the day. Heading to the med floor to help. Back to the table @ 9 tomorrow. Wish me luck
.

She typed in a reply.

Good luck. Love you
.

Her finger poised over the ‘send’ button, she hesitated.
Love you
? It had felt completely natural as she’d typed it. But the words hit her in the diaphragm, shortening her breath as she’d scanned for typos before sending. How had she meant the phrase? The way she’d sign off on a text to Bella? Hadn’t she just told her friend she loved her on the phone? It would be easy enough to say it to Jules, like she’d talk to a good girlfriend. If she said it to Luke, was there deeper meaning in those two little words?

She’d only known him for a short time. She couldn’t count the five minutes at the bar where she’d originally met him. Had she already lost her heart to him? With such uncertainty in her future, she wasn’t sure she could follow through on the relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He’d just started his job at the medical center. She was ending her employment to go in search of something that made her happy. Happier than her current job situation.

What if staying in the same town at the same dead-end job—there, she’d finally admitted it—with Luke made her just as happy as the idea of living on the farm? Was it possible?

The spring on the screen door twanged as Jules and Marcus disappeared into the house, the sound reminding her of summers on Gramps’ farm, and of opportunity.

Jac’s impending move to Eugene felt right, set within the month, if she could get the stupid tax bill paid. On one hand, the dilemma of where she’d find the cash seemed dire. It was a hell of a lot of money. On the other hand, the months it would take to scrape the funds together could extend her life in Medford with Luke. With enough time, maybe those words,
love you,
could come to be true in their meaning.

With a sigh, she backspaced over the last seven letters. Replaced them with
looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night. Doesn’t matter what time. I’ll be home
. She chewed on her bottom lip as she pressed ‘send.’ Maybe, at some point in the future, she’d be more comfortable with her original response.

She stared at the small display, but no reply came. Noting the time, Jac opted to believe he’d already pocketed his phone and headed to the nurses’ station to report for bedpan duty.

Cool breeze kissing her skin, she sat on the porch, sipping her wine, musing about her future, and waiting for Jules to return. The narrow leaves in the olive tree to the left of the path rustled soothing, natural music, competing with the birdsong emanating from the branches. The peace of the moment called to something deep inside her, taunting and tempting with a promise of a great future.

Hopefully, one where she and Luke worked out.

Chapter 17

The screen door banged against the wall, startling Jac from her reverie. Wine glass in hand, Jules dropped onto the chair nearest the table. She set down a spice grinder and sank back against the cushions. A glow lit her pretty blue eyes, the breeze gently stirring wisps of her hair around her face. Jules’ grin widened as she stared at Jac. She nodded once, surveying the vineyard.

Curiosity got the better of Jac. “What?”

Jules stared out over her property. “I didn’t know anything about winemaking. I’m the proud owner of a Communications degree from the University of Northern California in Santa Rosa. This area called to something inside me. When it was time to move back to L.A., I couldn’t do it.” She scanned the hills on display before them and released a contented sigh. “I took a job with a small local produce co-op which enabled me to stay here. This property came on the market and I borrowed money. I bought a vineyard.”

When she fell silent, Jac prompted her. “Nice story. And you’re telling me . . . why?”

“I’m getting to it.” Jules dragged her eyes from the scenery and focused on Jac. Before she spoke, she took a deep sip from her glass. “God, I love this wine.”

Jac lifted her glass in salute. She took a sip, but remained silent, content to wait for Jules to continue her story.

“I received a lot of help and guidance from other vineyard owners in the area. The first year I didn’t do anything but study and learn, and pick people’s brains. It’s a tightly knit community and I couldn’t get over how generous the other owners were with their time and assistance.” Jules tucked one foot under her thigh and wiggled around in her chair to face Jac. “I also wrote a couple of business plans. One was for this team building camp. Launched this venture the second year. I’m pleased to say it’s a raging success. People come from all over the country to attend.”

“Well, I came from Oregon.” Jac grinned. “And I’m glad I did.”

“Me too.” Jules shook her head, as if clearing away any gooey emotion. She scratched a finger on the arm of her chair. “I promised myself I’d repay the favors I’d received to get my business off the ground. The second plan I wrote was for a charitable foundation aimed at other small businesses requiring the same kind of help I’d gotten.”

Not completely sure of where Jules was heading, Jac tilted her head quizzically. “I don’t understand. Don’t you have to have a lot of money to open what essentially amounts to a venture capital firm?”

“I had a trust fund from some, er, investments made on my behalf when I was younger. My folks are successful and shared the wealth with their only daughter.” A shadow flitted over Jules’ face, but was gone in the blink of an eye. “That’s not important. It’s what I chose to do with the money once I turned twenty-five that’s significant. I started investing in start-up companies in the area. Kept it low key, more word of mouth. Most people don’t know about this part of my corporation, which is the way I want it.”

“Jules, really, it’s great that you are able to do this for businesses here. But where are you going with this story?”

Jules pulled a folded slip of paper from her back pocket. She toyed with the edges before pinning Jac with an earnest look. “I want to invest in your spice farm.”

Jac dropped her gaze to the scrap of paper as Jules unfolded it. Her eyes shot back to Jules’ face. “What? Why—”

“Because I can. Your ideas for the farm work perfectly into the plans of another of my investments. A lovely woman who runs a small Italian deli in Santa Rosa is branching out to retail spices.” She gestured to the spice grinder she’d placed on the table between them. “She’s looking for new sources of product, and wants to work with a small business that incorporates sustainable farming practices. Marcus and I have helped her establish a great distribution network in Southern California, and demand is high. Only going to go higher based on her projections. But she can’t get there without businesses like yours. And your crops won’t be available if you don’t pay off the tax bill.”

“Hang on . . . You want to give me money to pay the taxes so I can become a supplier for your other investment?”

“No. I’m not giving you anything. I’m investing in what I can tell will be a sure bet. Gourmet spices are kind of the rage now. Have you ever wandered through the herb and spice section of an upscale grocery store? People are eating them up. Your venture is destined to succeed.” Jules folded her hand in her lap. “Especially if the connection between you and Sophia takes. You have a built-in customer, she has a ready supplier, and I have the satisfaction of knowing I’ve helped two people realize their dreams.”

Hope for her future rose. Jac squashed it. “Jules, I can’t ask you for fifty grand.”

“First, you didn’t ask, I offered. It’s good business. If it helps, you can consider it an investment from which I hope to earn some interest. And second, it isn’t fifty grand.” She glanced at the check, a satisfied smile on her face. She flipped the paper in her fingers, offering it to Jac.

The check had a fifty on it, but a two preceded it.

Moisture collected in the corners of her eyes. Jac blinked hard. “Jules, this is far more than the amount I need for the taxes.”

“The funds aren’t necessarily earmarked for taxes. If you choose to pay that bill with this, it’s up to you. I still think your cousin should pony up at least the amount of the tax itself, if not extra for the penalties and fees. However, her obligation is a family matter. Your call. My investment will give you a cushion, so if you don’t sell your condo right away, you’ll still be all right.”

Jac swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t deserve this.”

The snort ripping from Jules’ mouth caused her to press a hand against her lips, her eyes wide. “Bullshit. In just three days, I’ve already seen a stronger work ethic and drive to succeed than most people display in three months. You earned that money. I have a standard contract I’ll require you to sign. I only ask for a half percent of any profits, which I’m sure you realize in agriculture, won’t amount to much.”

She nodded toward the check in Jac’s hand. “And the term of the contract is only eighteen months. After that, you can renew for another infusion of cash to expand if you want. If not, we both walk away from the deal with whatever we’ve earned on it.” Jules lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I have to say, I hope you’ll renew. But even if you don’t, I think we’ll continue to be friends.”

Admiration and affection for the woman flooded Jac with a warm, happy burst of light. “I can’t believe how generous you are. Oh, my God. I wish I’d met you when we were younger. I want to be you when I grow up.”

The corners of Jules’ eyes creased as laughter trilled from her. “Maybe the “me” I am now. You would have run screaming away from me as a teen. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Oh, fiddle. Everyone was cringe-worthy as teens. Your parents must be so proud of the successful woman you’ve become.”

Jules made a non-committal sound at the back of her throat.

Dammit, I said the wrong thing
.

Another dark shadow flickered in Jules’ eyes before she dropped her gaze. She grabbed the wine bottle setting by her feet and added more to both their glasses. Clearly, Jac had steered them into murky waters with her comment.

Before she could say anything even remotely apologetic, Jules straightened her shoulders, as if shaking off any bad thoughts.

She lifted her wine stem to clink against the goblet in Jac’s hand. The setting sun sparkled on the rim of both glasses. “Here’s to a great partnership. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Jac took a sip, relishing the buttery taste of the wine. “To our success.”

The screen door creaked again as Marcus stepped out of the house. “You about ready? We have to be in town in thirty minutes.”

Jules drained the last of her glass, unfolded her long body from the chair, and offered Jac a hand. “Come on. Marcus is going to drive us into Santa Rosa. We’re eating with Sophia at her deli. I’m eager to introduce you to her. Marcus will be joining us for dinner. I hope that’s okay. He’s a silent partner in the deli and agrees this is a great opportunity for everyone.”

Jac took Jules’ hand and let the woman pull her to her feet. She liked the idea of Marcus being another partner. Glancing down at her jeans and sweatshirt, she asked, “Do I need to change?”

“Nope. We’re fine just as we are, paint splatters and all. We’ll leave in five minutes.”

Jules wrapped her arms around Jac’s shoulders in a spontaneous gesture. The display of friendship touched Jac’s heart. She returned the hug, patting Jules’ back.

As soon as Jules released her, Marcus stepped forward. “My turn.” Sliding his large arms around her, he squeezed gingerly. “It’s going to be awesome being in a partnership with you. I hope this means we’ll get to see more of you.”

Jac stepped out of his arms and tapped his broad shoulder with her fist. “Just let me know when it’s safe to go another round with a paint brush in the cask room. I’ll be there.”

“Go on, girl. You made a mess in there last time. No way will I let you anywhere near there again. Had to deal with—what’d you call him, FIG?—in the aftermath.” Laughter rumbling, Marcus gave a mock shudder. “But any time you want to come back and teach the teams how to make fine art with corks, you stop on by. I know we can use your skills. Plus, any artwork you create will automatically go on display at the gallery in town.”

Jules piped up, “It’s one of our investments as well. The first one, actually. Now Denise is the toast of the northern California art scene. Ah, the sweet smell of success. Marcus, I think in the future, success is going to be scented with basil and rosemary.”

“And don’t forget, thyme and parsley,” Jac quipped as she followed Jules through the screen door. “Got to say, I feel a song coming on.”

Marcus started humming ‘Scarborough Fair.’

Jac’s future, slightly dim and tarnished only an hour ago, was suddenly shiny and bright again.

The rolling chair scooted a bit and groaned as Luke threw himself into it. After eight hours at the negotiating table and another eight on the medical floor, Luke’s moan overrode the sound the chair emitted. His legs ached from walking up and down the ward during the night, assisting the skeleton staff of nurses and the few aides who crossed the imaginary picket line created by the nurses’ sick-out.

Maybe, if Brian helped on the floor, the jerk would be more sympathetic to the nursing staff’s demands. As it was, they were headed in the wrong direction. Brian had reintroduced a previously negotiated demand as a bargaining tool in the last session. Instead of settling this thing, he’d dug the hole deeper.

A pit Luke couldn’t fathom finding his way out of. He slumped over the counter-height desk and pulled a keyboard toward him to enter the last thing he’d done for a patient. His eyes were so bleary from sixteen plus hours in the fluorescent lighting of the hospital, it took him a second to focus on the right computer screen. A couple of keystrokes and one huge yawn later, he navigated his way into the patient record and added the note.

Footsteps, accompanied by the whine of rubber wheels, squeaked on the highly polished linoleum floor. Luke craned his neck over the desk to see a new patient arriving from the emergency room. Bella Robins was at the head of the gurney, guiding it toward him.

Luke’s back twinged as he shoved out of his chair. “Hey, Bella. They recruited you to help too?”

Her smile was grim. “We were told it was all management hands on deck until the sick-out is settled. Didn’t realize until they pointed at me I was considered management.” Her gaze scanned him quickly. “Whoa! You’re still in the same clothes I saw you in this morning. Have you been home yet?”

“Nope.” Luke unhooked the patient’s chart from the holder at the foot of the transport bed. He scanned the moaning man’s name and compared it to the record in the computer. “He’s in four-three-oh-five. I’ll help you move him down. What about you? Get any rest yet today?”

“I had a couple hours off at the end of my regular shift. I signed up for eleven to seven since I can sleep late tomorrow. Can you hurry up and fix this?” Bella dug in her feet and grunted as she pushed the gurney forward.

Luke grabbed the side rail to help, jostling the patient. The man groaned again and Bella expertly stuck a basin under his chin and gently maneuvered his head to the side. All without breaking their forward momentum.

With his stomach rolling queasily, Luke focused his attention on the last door on the left side of the hallway. If he could guide the cart without seeing the man spewing the contents of his stomach, he’d be okay. “I’m doing the best I can. For what it’s worth, I’m on the nurses’ side.” He wanted to explain to Bella he had a way to settle the dispute in the next ten minutes, if only Brian would listen to reason. But he didn’t want to be disloyal or act sketchy.

“Bet you’re wishing you’d stayed in Florida.” Bella’s tennis shoes screeched as she tried to slow the bed so they could navigate the over-wide door to the patient room. Why hadn’t he thought to bring tennis shoes to change into? His feet might not ache so much.

“I like it here. I think the opportunity is good, but it does rain a lot.” Luke opted to omit his career with St. Simeon’s could be numbered in months, or weeks. “Hey, about your friend, Jacqui. We were teammates at the camp.”

Bella tossed him an assessing glance. “Yeah, she told me. Right before she canceled our dinner plans for tomorrow night. So, you guys have a date?”

He should feel bad that Jac had called off an evening with her friend for his sake. He didn’t. His heart accelerated at the knowledge he’d be with Jac in eighteen hours, if everything went well at the bargaining table. Luke pulled the foot of the bed through the door and wheeled it around to slide into place against the wall. “We do. Wish I’d gotten to know her better when we first met. I like her. She’s great.”

“She is. But she’s going through some shit with her cousin right now. I don’t know where Jac’s going to get the funds to pay off the farm’s tax bill with the county.”

Luke’s shoulder wrenched as his feet stopped but the bed didn’t. “What are you talking about?”