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“And will you tell the chef we’re ready for dinner?”
“Aye, aye, boss.”
“Thank you, Adam!”
Sam and I went outside, where the early evening cold whipped straight through our coats. “Eep!” she said. “Hurry!”
We power-walked with our wine in the direction of the cottage. “Wait, why are we going this way?” she asked. “Aren’t you on the other side?”
“We’re going to the cottage.”
“Oh, fun! I haven’t been out there since you were building it. Is this why you told me to bring my bathing suit?”
“Yep. There’s a jacuzzi on the deck. We can relax in there after dinner.”
“Sounds fab. So, catch me up. How are you doing? How’s the wine biz?”
“I don’t really know where to start.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think I need a glass of wine in my hand when I tell you. Because it is alot.”
The wind picked up, fiercely blowing across the frozen ground, and my teeth began to chatter. Sam and I picked up our pace, nearly jogging to the cottage. Was there a storm coming? I hadn’t checked the weather earlier, thanks to the Red Blotch drama.
When we got inside, she put the bottle on the island. “Holy shit, it’s cold out.” She unzipped her jacket and tossed it onto the new couch. “Wow, this place looks great. Very minimalist. Elegant. Good job, Mags.”
It wasn’t so much my design as it was Vito’s. But I didn’t say that. Instead, I opened the wine bottles to let them breathe. Then I found glasses in the cabinet. Vito’s cappuccino cup was still in the sink. I stared at it for a beat, thinking about his strong hands cradling the ceramic, his mouth hugging the edge of the rim . . . his gorgeous, capable mouth . . .
Sam made a noise. “Uhhh, Mags. I think one of your renters left behind a pair of shoes.”
I looked over and found her examining Vito’s running shoes that I had returned. “No, those belong to the current tenant.”
She blinked at me, her lips parting. “There’s a renter here?” Her eyes swung to the staircase. “Like, right now?”
“No, no. Let’s sit in the jacuzzi and I’ll explain.”
While she went to change, I darted outside and turned on the jacuzzi. Then I came back in and used the upstairs bathroom to change into my suit. Little touches of Vito were everywhere, like his hair gel. Contacts case and solution. A razor. The room even smelled like his fancy Italian body wash. I bit my lip, my ears growing warm. Was I blushing? I stared in the mirror and tried to cool my overheated skin. Sam would definitely notice.
By the time I returned she was drinking her wine and staring at the espresso machine. “This looks new. It wouldn’t have anything to do with that Italian man who came into the café and asked where to buy one, would it?”
“When was that?”
“Oh, a few days ago. He was very handsome. Mid-thirties. Gram gave him John’s information when he asked about a contractor.” She pinned me with a knowing stare. “You wouldn’t happen to know him, would you?”
“He’s staying here.”
Realization dawned and she nodded. “He’s the renter.”
“More like a guest. Owner. Boss.”
“What?”
“No more questions until we’re in the jacuzzi.”
We took our wine and hurried into the warm water. When our teeth stopped chattering from the short dash in the freezing cold, she flicked water in my direction. “Let’s hear it. What is going on out here?”
So I told her.