At Wits' End - Kenzie Reed Page 0,19
And a bedroll up in the loft.”
“Oh, hooray,” he says, with very little enthusiasm. “I cannot live like this. I need a refrigerator.”
If memory serves, Donovan likes to make himself these gross smoothies made of things like road tar, gravel and weeds. Maybe those aren’t the exact ingredients, but I smelled one of his smoothies years ago when I still lived in town and he stopped by the Espresso Self coffee shop, and I nearly heaved. He’s always been driven about absolutely everything – school, work, sports, exercise, diet. He gave up his family’s orgasmic chocolate-chip cookies in high school and switched over to some low-carb low-taste food regimen, and apparently he’s stuck to it ever since.
“You need a fridge so you can store that sludge you call food? Is that part of your ‘no-pleasure’ regimen? What are you punishing yourself for?” I scoff. “Being a Witlocke? I’d say that’s punishment enough.”
“Oh, pleasure is a very important part of my life.” His gaze goes warm and hungry, and sweeps over me from head to toe. I bite my lip and cross my arms over my chest to hide the fact that my nipples are now swollen buds of desire. This round goes to Donovan.
“I thought you were such a workaholic that you didn’t have time for fun. Got a girlfriend waiting for you back in L.A.?”
He smirks. “Jealous?”
“Psssh.” I make a hissing sound of contempt. Yes, weirdly, always, but I’ve also always been able to squish that crazy part of my psyche down until it barely exists. Anyway, from what I hear, his relationships never last long. Not that I’ve kept my ear to the ground when it comes to Donovan and whoever he’s messing around with, but that Instagram influencer babe who pushes liquid cleanses and publicly weighs herself every morning was clearly all wrong for him.
“In answer to your question, I have short-term relationships with like-minded women. My work schedule has left me no time to develop a relationship.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shakes his head. “There’s no Wi-Fi. You do understand I run a business, and I’ll be working this summer?”
“We’re getting internet next week too. I hope. Depending on their schedule. In the meantime, there’s Wi-Fi at the winery. And an office. Well, a small crowded one, but we could fit in a little desk for you…maybe in the hall.”
My aunt has a winery with a tasting room and a wine cellar right next to the vineyards. It’s ancient, and the building and equipment are all in desperate need of an upgrade, which will happen as soon as the money fairy waves her magic wand over our heads. Good Wi-Fi, though.
“No, this won’t work.” He shakes his head decisively. “We’re going to have to stay at my family’s guest cottage. Sorry.” He bends over, picks up my purse from where I set it on the floor, and hands it to me. “Let’s go.” There’s a snap of impatience to his voice.
I shrug. “Enjoy. And give me back my purse. Thief.” I reach for it, and he holds it up so I can’t reach it.
“So you’re going back on your word?” He glares at me. “Typical Ribaldi.”
That’s such utter bull-fertilizer I can barely restrain myself from laughing. “Witlocke” is a synonym for “liar”.
“I kept my word, or I wouldn’t be wearing this.” I hold up my left hand and wiggle my ring finger, with the chintzy zirconia ring I bought for myself. “I went through with the wedding.”
“Staying in the guest house was part of the agreement!” His voice is raised now.
“The original agreement was that I would marry one of Phillip’s sons! You were never even in the running!” I shout.
“Oh, so you wanted to be married to Jonathon?” he snaps. “I’m so sorry I came between you and your dream man. Wait, no, I think it was Mia’s coochie that came between you and your dream man.” If I didn’t know better – and I do, unfortunately, know how little Donovan actually cares about me – I’d swear he sounds jealous.
We stand there bristling with anger and glaring at each other.
The door flies open with a bang, and I let out a shriek of alarm then clap my hand over my mouth. Carrie and her twin sister Tonya, who owns an interior decorating business and furniture shop, stroll in uninvited.
The two of them visit the same hairstylist, and right now their hair is the exact same shade of flame red, glossily