Kisses Sweeter Than Wine. Heather Heyford
Sam saw her standing there, he came flying around his desk.
“Doc. You all right?”
“I’m fine.” She picked his phone up off the floor, dusted it off on her shirt, and handed it to him. “What’s going on? You look upset.”
“Upset? Damn right I’m upset. My vintners have gone to a lot of trouble and expense to haul cases of their wine over here to ship to subscribers starting today, and now I find out there are problems with the website?”
“Take a deep breath.” Red lowered herself into the chair across from Sam. “So what I hear you saying is, you have wine ready to ship, but customers aren’t having a positive subscribing experience. Is that right?”
“Right.” He kept up his restless pacing. “How am I supposed to fix it? Do I look like a programmer?”
Maybe, if said programmer had smoldering eyes, a nose that listed slightly left, and flat abs.
“What about Keval? Can’t he help?”
Sam scraped a hand through his hair, making it stand adorably on end. “If he could get into the system, but he’s locked out.”
Finally he took his seat, mirroring Red’s calm body language.
Worked every time.
“I’m really sorry you’re going through this.”
He shook his head, his tempest having blown itself out as quickly as it had started. “I’ll figure it out,” he said in a more rational tone.
He blinked as if seeing her for the first time. “What are you doing here?”
“I had an actual lunch hour, for a change. Thought I’d eat with Keval, al desko.”
He began gathering the papers strewn across his desk. “First time for any project is bound to hit a few snags. I’ll be here till midnight working it out.”
“Have you eaten? I could get you some food.” Her next appointment would be at her office in a half hour, but if she only ate a few bites of her salad she could run down to Poppy’s and pick up something to go for him.
“I’m meeting a grower around Lafayette in”—he checked his watch—“ten minutes,” he said, standing up, patting his pockets. “Where’d I put my keys?”
Red spotted a set on the end table next to where she sat. She dangled them aloft, and he swiped them from her finger on his way out the door.
“Thanks,” he said with that grin that made her weak.
When had her happiness become dependent on Sam’s moods? It was unwise. But she couldn’t help it.
She followed him into the hall. “I hope you get things straightened out,” she called to his back.
In his wake lingered a clean, masculine scent. She closed her eyes and sniffed like a dog with its head out the car window.
Sam should have his own candle.
She opened her eyes to see Holly staring at her with a blank expression and back in the reception area, Keval with his fingertips pressed to his lips.
Red breezed past Holly with a casual wave of her fingers. But there was no reply, just the sensation of pitying eyes boring into her back.
When she reached Keval, he said, “Oh. My. Gosh.”
Red frowned, glancing over her shoulder at where Holly and now Mona stood, both with shell-shocked expressions.
“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“You got it bad,” said Holly gravely.
Red scanned her exposed skin for obvious signs of disease. But freckles weren’t contagious.
No. She couldn’t have it all over town that she was gaga over Sam Owens.
What if he got wind of it? They had an unspoken agreement to be mature about their arrangement. Modern and unfettered and free.
She waved off Holly’s exaggerated pronouncement with a smirk. “I’m the shrink around here. I’ll do the analyzing.”
But her denial must have looked as phony as it felt.
“You’re in love with Sam,” Keval stated matter-of-factly.
Red met each pair of eyes in turn.
“No I’m not,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as them.
“Yes,” said Holly, slowly closing in on her like a zombie. “You are.”
In love. From a scientific point of view, she had to admit the evidence deserved serious consideration. She’d been carrying around these mushy feelings for far too long. Something was going on.
“Maybe.”
Keval took her by the arm and led her back to her chair. Everyone started talking at once.
“Are we the first to find out?”
“That is so exciting! How long have you known?”
“Does Sam know?”
“One at a time, please! Yes, about a month, I think, and no.”
“Sit,” said Keval, pressing on her shoulder, giving her no choice.
“I’m in love. I’m not an invalid.”
In love. There. She’d said it out loud.
Sweet relief flowed through her. She’d been struggling under her burden even longer than she thought. She fanned her face while the three fussed and fluttered around her.
“What can we get you? Some water?” Without waiting for an answer Holly dashed over to the water cooler, opened the spigot and scurried back, sloshing water in her wake.
Keval upended his brown bag and there was the sound of crinkling plastic wrap. “Here.”
Red lowered her cup from her lips. “What’s this?”
“Vegan sandwich. Hummus and cashew cheese. Clean protein.”
What little appetite she’d had disappeared. Gently, she pushed it away. “Thanks, Keval, but that’s your lunch. I still have my salad. I’m fine, you guys. Really.”
“That’s why your cheeks are all pink.”
“When aren’t my cheeks pink? It’s a package deal. Comes with the hair and freckles.”
Keval hauled his chair around his desk to directly in front of hers, facing backward. He straddled it and folded his arms across its back. “I want you to tell me everything, starting from the beginning. Go.”
The temptation to get it off her chest was overwhelming.
“I—”
What was she doing?
She sealed her lips and sprang to her feet.
She’d made a colossal mistake. She couldn’t tell Sam’s entire staff that she’d been sleeping with their boss for months on end. It might not violate any HIPAA laws, but it was a gross breach of trust.
“I didn’t come here to talk about my love life. I have to get back to my office. I have clients coming….”
Keval glanced at his smart watch. “It’s only twelve twenty-five. We have plenty of time.”
Red picked up the bag containing her untouched salad.
“It’s too late now,” crowed Keval. “The cat’s out of the bag.”
“None of your beeswax.”
Maybe she could grab some bites between clients.
“He has no clue, does he?” Keval