Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Everyone ready? Where’s Kay?” he asks.
“Speak of the devil—you summoned her,” I quip as Makayla steps in, dangerously gorgeous in painted-on jeans and a red sweater that barely grazes her midriff. I didn’t expect to be this turned on by her being clothed, but here we are.
And I can’t wait to peel those clothes off her and let them pool in a heap on my bedroom floor.
Alex rises, just as mesmerized. Oscar’s eyes widen; he can’t stop tracking her as she saunters to the coffee table. If she notices our blatant staring, she doesn’t seem bothered. She slips her hands into her back pockets and flashes us a brilliant smile.
“Are we ready to go?” she asks.
“Sure,” I agree, stumbling over the word.
“Great. Let’s go—I’m starving.”
Tension hums in the air, sharp with want. Still, she has a point—we need real food. I set my bottle down while Alex drains the last of his soda, and we file out the door.
“Do you have your keycard?” I ask Makayla.
“Got it,” she replies, holding it up.
“I’ve got one too.” Oscar’s attempt at conversation is so awkward it’s almost cute.
I start to roll my eyes, but Alex elbows me in the ribs. One quick look tells me everything—give Oscar some breathing room with Makayla. He’s right; if Oscar can break the ice, the rest of us can follow.
I hang back as we head down the hall, letting Oscar and Makayla take the lead. It feels strange after what happened earlier, but soon enough conversation flows easily.
“How was your flight?” Oscar asks politely.
“I’ve had better,” Makayla replies. “I’m glad I made it, though.”
“Really? Ours was pretty smooth,” he mutters, making it hard for me not to roll my eyes again.
“Oh, I had some issues with mine. Ended up boarding a different plane with a layover in London,” she says.
At least she’s keeping the conversation afloat, no matter where he clumsily steers it. Bless his giant heart.
“Where were you laid over in London? Heathrow?”
“Yes. I’d love to see more of London soon. I’ll bet photos and travel blogs don’t do it justice,” she says.
“Oh, it’s a beautiful city. Crowded as hell in the touristy areas, but there are some parts that are timeless and charming. I think you’ll love Kensington Gardens, among other things,” Oscar replies. “You used to love going to art exhibits, right?”
“I still do.”
“Then you’ll want to hit the museums. The National Gallery and MoMA are incredible,” he says—and I’m almost proud of him. “You were a history buff too, right? Bryan had to sign off on that field trip your senior year.”
“Right—the dig site in Indiana.” Makayla laughs softly. “I was obsessed with archaeology and anthropology back then. I took a few college courses for extra credit but never had the nerve to pursue it seriously.”
“How so?”
“I’ve always loved wine more.”
Alex and I trade a confused look. Catching it, Makayla shrugs. “The winemaking process—the agricultural and scientific sides. From seedling to bottle. Even the sommelier angle…”
“Right—Bryan wasn’t thrilled about that, seeing as you were underage,” I say with a wry smile.
“I’m pretty sure he was glad to let you go off to Indiana instead,” Oscar replies.
Conversation ebbs and flows as we head toward the restaurant, and with every minute my faith in Oscar returns. “Last year saw a slight drop in our revenue, which is why we’re putting in a little extra effort this year,” he tells her at one point while recounting our business development milestones with Bryan.
“Are you always working?” she teases.
“Pretty much.” He shrugs. “Owning a company’s no small thing, and even with Bryan, Alex, and Kellan pulling their weight, there’s always more to do. Right now we’re drafting a pitch for a promising start-up that just hit the market.”
I’m done with the gory work details, so I cut in. “Tell us what you’ve been up to, Makayla. There’s got to be more to your life than a horrible boss.”
Oscar gives us a curious look. “Horrible boss?”
“Oh, that’s a long story,” Makayla says. “But thank you for asking, Oscar. I have more going on in my life than just the job. As of last week, I’ve been putting together a business plan for my winery,” she replies, surprising all three of us.
“Already?” Alex arches a brow.
“Strike while the iron’s hot, right?” she quips.
“You want to open a winery?” Oscar asks.
“Yes.” She stops in the middle of the hallway. “It’s always sounded romantic—growing your own grapes and building a label. Wine’s one of my favorite things in the world, so it makes sense, right?”
“They do say that if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life,” Oscar agrees.
I realize we’ve arrived at the elevator already, and don’t want this conversation to end. “How far along are you on that? Do you have a business plan?”
“Not yet,” she admits, “but my parents left me a generous patch of land out in the California countryside. My uncle still manages it. There’s a small house, though it’s been vacant for years. In their will Mom and Dad said I could do whatever I wanted with it, and a winery feels perfect.”