have orgasms with Oliver, do a little drawing, then go back to have dinner with Grandpa. Often Oliver accompanied her for dinner, though they left the sex and the orgasms at home.
She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been happier. Oh, she was still very worried about her grandfather, and was now busy dealing with her newest assignment. The studio had called, saying they loved her sketches and wanted her for the project. She knew as well as anyone that this could be the film that got her some major attention. Aside from that, she was also busy talking to appraisers and auctioneers about the wine collection. And surrounding all that business and activity, a happy glow of personal contentment swirled around her just about every minute of the day.
She and Oliver did more than just have the most amazing sex. They cooked together, walked together, laughed together. She’d gotten him to open up a little more about his savaged career, and even got him to admit that, with his change in lifestyle, he probably could afford to put out a shingle and take on only the clients he truly believed were innocent.
Only one thing could pierce her glow of contentment: thinking about what awaited her back in L.A.
“Hey, chickie, whatcha doing?” Tommy asked when she’d answered the phone late one afternoon.
She hadn’t told him about Oliver. The only person she’d even hinted to about her relationship with him was Madison, to whom she talked every other day or so. Her sister had been her other half since birth. They had the kind of bond few people ever experienced with a sibling. Madison knew how to keep a secret, so they usually told each other everything. But even Madison didn’t know the whole story. Candace had kept some things from her, the most intimate things. She’d protected the relationship, wanting to keep it private for as long as it lasted. But the fact that it couldn’t last much longer was crushing her.
“I’m shopping,” she admitted. “I’ve got to buy a new dress.”
“For?”
“There’s a big winery owner’s ball tomorrow night,” she said, still wondering if she’d made the right decision in saying she would attend with Oliver.
Their relationship so far had been mostly about sex. Drinking wine, talking about Grandpa and him teaching her what he’d learned so far about the wine business had taken up some time, too. But other than that one dinner/dessert they’d shared at Wilhelm’s, they’d never actually gone on a date. So last night, when her grandfather had told them he wanted the two of them to go to the event, since he had already RSVP’d for himself and Oliver, her first instinct was to refuse. Then she’d met Oliver’s eye from across the hospital room and had seen the gleam of interest there.
She couldn’t deny being curious. She’d gotten to know him as a working man. This formal, black-tie event might be her only chance to catch a glimpse of the man Oliver had been before his life imploded. Not that she didn’t adore the man who’d taught her things about her body she’d never even known, but she wanted to learn as much about him as she could, while she could. She wanted to discover all his facets and imprint them on her memory, to tide her over for the long and lonely years that stretched ahead.
It was getting harder to think about those years, harder to envision the life she’d chosen for herself. Even the sound of Tommy’s voice, which usually made her happy, twisted the knife in the wound. For a few days, she’d been able to pretend she was at the start of a relationship that could change her life.
Maybe it still would. Maybe she’d change from a normal, happy woman to a heartbroken, never-able-to-love-again sad case.
Love? What the hell are you thinking, girl?
“Sounds fancy.”
She was still too busy tripping over the word love in her mind to respond.
“Where is it?” he asked.
She finally shook her head, forcing away thoughts she wasn’t ready to deal with, and replied, “At a hotel in San Francisco.”
“Nice. I love that city.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Do you think anyone would notice if I walked in the parade? I could blend in with the crowd.”
“Maybe...if you covered yourself with gold body paint from head to toe and wore a rubber gorilla mask on your face.”
“Party pooper.”
She shrugged as she walked around the square in Sonoma, eyeing the windows of various