do.”
“Well, stop it. Sex isn’t the answer to everything. Look at us. We’re doing much better now that we’ve stopped having sex.”
“Speak for yourself.”
She ignored the comment. No way she was stepping back into that mess. Sleeping with Kyle was nothing but a distraction. Sort of like her semi-great life. She was just comfortable enough to not be motivated to find something better.
“I need goals,” she said firmly. “And a plan to achieve them.”
He leaned close and smiled at her. “How about we start with a second round of drinks? Then we’ll conquer the world.”
She raised her glass. “I’m in.”
* * *
Mackenzie felt like she was four and it was the night before Christmas. She was excited and happy and filled with anticipation and possibilities. In her head she knew there were about a thousand steps to be taken between where she and Bruno were and buying Painted Moon, but just thinking about what could happen made her so happy.
Over the next couple of days, she did her job at Bel Après, but all her downtime was spent thinking about what she would want to do differently if given the chance. She had so many ideas, so many things she wanted to try and change and expand.
Rather than talk to Rhys, she contacted her divorce lawyer for a recommendation for a business lawyer who could help with the partnership agreement. A two-hour phone call and yet another check for five thousand dollars later, she officially had her second lawyer on retainer. Along with the contract and the receipt for the check, the lawyer had sent her a list of articles to read on starting a partnership, including a couple on pitfalls and mistakes the novice could make. He’d included an NDA that she could print out as needed and get people to sign.
As she’d promised Bruno, she didn’t say anything to anyone—not Rhys or Stephanie, although it was difficult to keep quiet. At times she thought she would burst from the gloriousness of the secret.
She drove back from inspecting the vineyards in Oregon. Midday, midweek meant the traffic wasn’t bad and she got to her office in time for a late lunch. The chef had left quinoa salads with a peanut dressing, which sounded delicious. Mackenzie was starving—she’d skipped breakfast to get an early start on her day.
As she poured the small container of dressing over the vegetables, grains and chickpeas, she wondered if Rhys had slipped away for a fast-food lunch. He refused to eat quinoa on principle. Something about being a guy and standing in solidarity against grain oppression.
She was still smiling about that when he walked into the upstairs break room, a large envelope in his hand.
“I was just thinking about you,” she said with a laugh and waved her salad. “Did you eat yours?”
Instead of grinning back at her, he half turned away. “I went out for lunch.”
“Rhys? What’s wrong?”
He tensed, then faced her again, his expression serious. “Nothing. Did you look at the Seven Hills vineyards?”
“Yes. The irrigation is working fine and I’m loving how the grapes are ripening. We’re going to have a good year.”
He made a motion toward the hallway with his hand. A man she didn’t know walked in. “Mackenzie Dienes?”
She looked from the stranger to Rhys and back. “Yes.”
“I didn’t know how to do this,” Rhys told her. “I didn’t know the right time or—”
The other man took the envelope Rhys held and offered it to her. She instinctively took it.
“You’ve been served,” the man said and walked out.
Mackenzie stared at Rhys. “I don’t understand.”
He hunched a little. “I know. It’s the divorce papers.”
She nearly dropped the envelope as the meaning of his words sunk in. Divorce papers? Yes, she’d seen a lawyer, and this was where they were headed, but she hadn’t thought, hadn’t expected...
All the happiness of the previous days evaporated, taking her upbeat mood with it. Her body seemed to deflate, as if she were getting smaller and smaller and would, in a very short time, disappear.
Slowly, carefully, she put the large envelope on the counter and fought against the need to scrub her hands until every trace of the paper had been erased.
“Mackenzie?”
“It’s okay,” she said, not looking at him and hoping she sounded less upset than she was. “We talked about this. It’s the next step, right?” She faked a smile as she finally turned to him. “I’ll look these over, then get a copy to Ramona to review.”
His gaze searched her face. “Are you all