A Wright Christmas - K.A. Linde Page 0,69

to get shit done.”

I sighed. What else could possibly make this day worse? Might as well try to get the wine so we could all get fucked up today. Professor Rodgers was only retiring once.

Cézanne She checked off a slot on her to-do list that rested on an actual clipboard. I loved Cézanne to death, but sometimes her organizational skills were so extra. There was a reason she was top of our class and in charge of all of our events.

I stepped away from Cézanne to make my phone call. The Wine Boutique’s number was on the top of the order, and I dialed it with another sigh. This was what I got for being dependable. The line rang and rang and rang. It felt like an eternity before the voicemail clicked over.

“Thank you for calling the Wine Boutique. Sorry we missed your call…”

I hung up and tried again. And again. And again.

No answer.

Their hours said that they were open until six. I had another thirty minutes. They should have answered their phone.

“Gah!” I growled, wanting to throw my useless phone across the room. Of course no one was answering. It was just my day. I checked the address on the sheet again. I knew where this place was. It was only a five minute drive downtown on a good day. Today was not a good day, but I had enough time to still make it. “Cézanne!” She glanced over at me. “No one is answering. I’m going to just…head over there and find out what happened.”

“You’re a goddess, Annie. Truly.”

“I still say that I wasn’t in charge of this.”

“Well, find out who was then, k?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered as I headed back outside.

I braced myself against the cold and hustled back toward my car. As soon as I shut myself back inside, I blasted the heat. The Spirit Ranch was a wedding venue on the north side of town that we’d gotten at an uber discount since it was the off season. But Cézanne had somehow still made the space look gorgeous even going as far as renting an outdoor tent complete with heaters. But with the sun already going down, I couldn’t imagine standing out there. Maybe with enough alcohol in me.

I winced.

Right…alcohol. That thing that we didn’t have.

With a groan, I peeled away from the building and headed toward downtown. The Wine Boutique was nestled in the heart of the city between an old city hall and a historic hotel which had recently been renovated into high-end apartments. The downtown was finally finally beginning to blossom into the Lubbock local scene that everyone had always hoped for. It had a long way to go, but I could see where it was headed.

I parked out front, bracing myself for the cold and rushed toward the front door. My hand settled on the gilded hand and I yanked on the door. I groaned, feeling my shoulder give as I pulled too hard on a door that wouldn’t budge.

“Fuck,” I spat.

The hours on the front door said I had another fifteen minutes, because of course it had taken me longer to get here, before they closed. I peered inside of the darkened interior. A few lights were still on and a woman sat behind the counter, typing on the computer.

I banged on the front door. “Hello!”

The woman’s head popped up in confusion. Then she was dashing across the room, unlocking the door, and throwing it open. I nearly fell inside in my hurry to escape the cold.

“Hey! Sorry about that. I didn’t expect any other customers,” the woman said. She wore a dark blue dress with sensible heels. Her dark hair severely parted down the middle and pulled back into a loose bun. Her lips were painted a pretty dark pink and her dark eyes lightly lined.

“Not a problem,” I told her.

“I’m the owner, Sophia. How can I help you?”

“Annie,” I said, taking her outstretched hand and shaking. “I’m actually here from the medical school. We’re hosting a retirement party for one of our distinguished faculty up at the Spirit Ranch today. We ordered a few cases of wine from here, but it was never delivered.”

I passed over the order form to Sophia, who looked even more surprised when she scanned it over.

“I have this order,” she said instantly, “but it’s for next weekend.”

“No, it’s for today. We’re all back in rotations next weekend.”

“I don’t even have to look it up. I know that I have it for next weekend.”