Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,45

her brief outings in the vineyard. With the change of scenery, his dark good looks were even more striking. Clearly, she wasn’t alone in her feeling on this; the two women at the table next to her were stealing their own glances.

Mateo and his lunch companion stood and shook hands. The older man left. Mateo, still standing and looking toward the door, noticed her and gave a nod. Sadie wondered if she was supposed to go over and say hello, cursing her social awkwardness. Yes, she probably should.

Crossing the room seemed to take an extraordinary number of steps.

“Hi, Sadie. What brings you out here?” he said, his black eyes sharp.

Before she could answer, her name was called for her food order.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. Now, this was awkward. She had to return with her food, essentially inviting herself to eat with him. But whatever—they basically worked together. Or he worked for her grandfather, so it was like a business lunch.

When she returned with her fish and chips, he pointed out the window.

“A table opened up outside,” he said. “Do you want to grab it?”

Sadie never understood the appeal of outdoor eating. She was sure this feeling was the product of growing up in Manhattan. The outdoor restaurant tables always seemed to be on a bus route or jutting out onto the sidewalk, and all the people walking by looked at you and your food. It was different out here, with the view of the water and the fresh air. But she was a creature of habit.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“Those outdoor tables are prime. I’ve never seen one passed up.”

“I’m more of an indoors person,” Sadie said.

“That’s interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“Because your grandparents are farmers,” Mateo said. “You can’t get more outdoors than that.”

Sadie shrugged and sipped her Diet Coke.

“You shouldn’t drink that,” Mateo said. “It’s poison.”

“It’s not the healthiest, but . . .”

“No, it’s poison.”

“That’s a little judgmental coming from someone who works at a winery.”

“You think wine is poison?”

“I mean, alcohol isn’t good for you. That’s not exactly breaking news.”

“Everything in moderation,” Mateo said. “Except toxic chemicals.” He smiled.

“Fair enough,” Sadie said.

Was Mateo flirting with her? Or was he just extremely opinionated about soda? It was hard to say.

“So,” Mateo said. “You’re going into your senior year?”

Sadie nodded. Hmm. Asking about her age was a possible sign of interest.

“What’s your major?” Mateo asked.

“English. I’m working on my thesis this summer. Did you, um, go to college?”

“Stanford,” Mateo said.

“Really?”

“You don’t have to look so surprised.”

“I’m not surprised.” She was shocked. “It’s just, why did you come back to the vineyard?”

“I thought about moving to the city after school but decided to return to the North Fork. It seemed there was no better place than a vineyard to put my degree in sustainable development to use.”

Sadie found that incredibly hot. Mateo was flexing. Mateo was definitely flirting with her.

“Listen,” Mateo said, leaning closer, “I’d rather you not mention seeing me here today.”

Sadie found her pulse racing. Clandestine. She was into it. “Totally. I get it.”

“I don’t want your family to know I’m already interviewing.”

“Wait—what?”

“The man I was talking to. It was about a job.”

“You’re quitting?”

“I have to start looking before I get laid off. I have my father to think about. He doesn’t just work at Hollander, he’s lived there my entire life.”

Oh. The sale.

Mateo stood up. “For now, though, it’s back to work,” he said.

“Yeah, um—okay. See you back at the winery.”

He smiled. “Remember: stay off the poison.”

“Right,” she said. “No soda for me.”

Sadie watched him leave with just the subtlest sinking feeling. The entire room seemed to dim. Mateo had that kind of energy about him.

When he was out of sight, she reached for her Diet Coke.

Twenty-three

The bride posing for photos on the veranda steps reminded Vivian of her younger self, a hopeful, bright-eyed blonde adorned in lace and duchess satin.

“Can I get a photo with you, Mrs. Hollander?” the bride asked.

“Oh, I’m not dressed for the occasion,” Vivian demurred. The truth was, she happened to be wearing a fabulous lavender ribbon tweed knit dress by St. John. She always dressed for the weddings. She’d witnessed hundreds at the winery, and the power of them never faded. Two young people—or, in some cases, older people—beginning a life together. Optimistic. Passionate. Surrounded by loving friends and family.

Her own wedding had been a source of strain and anxiety. Her parents disapproved of her engagement—not because she was too young, or because she might not finish college, but because of