Desire and a Bottle of Merlot: (Like Sisters Series Book 5) Chick Lit: A Romantic Comedy (2 page)

BOOK: Desire and a Bottle of Merlot: (Like Sisters Series Book 5) Chick Lit: A Romantic Comedy
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“I think you’re right.” Sasha descended the staircase, heading toward the kitchen. Her new morning ritual was two cups of decaf, orange juice, a piece of fruit, toast, and a prenatal vitamin. Occasionally, she found herself wolfing down two glazed donuts out of desperation for sweets. “It’s going to be really busy around here for a month, especially with planting the grape stock and getting the garden set up. Can you hold this guy off until the Monday after the wedding? You’d just have to sign the paperwork and give him the keys, right?”

“Yep. I’ll accept the offer if the guy can wait until then to close. I’ll tell Jake to get everything arranged. It will all work out fine, babe. Anyway, I have J. J. tonight, so how about the three of us going out to dinner—pizza maybe? I can pick you up at six.”

“That sounds like fun. See you then.”

***

Josh called Jake from the office and explained the situation. He hadn’t met the man who was interested in his house. “Hey, Jake, do you think this guy is in a hurry to get into the house?”

“I’m not sure. He’s living with his folks temporarily in Croton-on-Hudson. He didn’t sound urgent. I don’t think there was a job offer or any family involved. As far as I know, he’s single and just wants to live in Tarrytown.”

“Okay. Run it past him, and see what he says. I’ll accept his offer if we can close on the Monday after the wedding. Let me know. Talk to you later.”

***

Tina stood in line at Amelia’s carryout counter. They were lucky to have a day in April warm enough to sit and eat lunch in the sheltered patio area behind Hair Brained. Vic was stuck at the salon, finishing up a cut and color that took much longer than she’d expected. Now, she only had an hour before her next appointment, not enough time to enjoy their usual noontime meal at Morey’s or Bottoms Up.

“C’mon already,” Tina snarled under her breath. She tapped her foot impatiently. The lady in front of her hadn’t even looked at the overhead menu until she reached the counter with her three complaining kids.

By the time Tina had lunch in her hand and was heading for the door, twenty minutes had passed. She carried two twelve-ounce cups of Diet Coke, two orders of fries, and two double cheeseburgers jammed into a flimsy cardboard tray. As she was going out the door, a man who was texting on his cell bumped arms with her as he brushed by her. He continued on to claim his place in line at the counter, making a slight attempt at an apology, muttered in Tina’s direction. As she teetered on the steps, Tina was sure she could correct the tipping contents of the tray, until the door hit her in the back. Trying to steady the two Cokes was useless as they both came spilling toward her. She gasped as twenty-four ounces of icy-cold beverages saturated her from her neck to her knees.

“Son of a bitch,” she shrieked, stunned by the ice cubes that found their way deep inside her bra, instantly melting against her warm breasts. Tina dumped the cups and ice into the overflowing trash can next to the steps. After cursing for two whole blocks, she entered Hair Brained with what was left of their lunch.
Thank God we still have something to eat after all that, for crap’s sake.

The slamming of the glass doors as she barged in caused the gray hairs and hipsters to spin in their aqua swivel seats and gape with eyes as big as Oreo cookies.

“Hello! Hasn’t anyone ever seen a Coke-soaked woman before? Damn it!”

“What in the world?” Vic said. “Get in the bathroom and strip those clothes off. You’re dripping across the floor. Diane, finish up here for me.” She followed Tina down the hallway to the back of the salon and shoved her into the bathroom, handing her four capes to tie around her body. At least they would cover Tina’s most critical areas for the time being.

Vic tossed Tina’s clothes into the washer, dumped in a scoop of Tide, and set the dial to the smallest load size. She wiped the wet floor with several towels and threw them in the washer, too.

“Now, tell me what the heck happened.” Vic pulled the cheeseburgers and fries out of the wet tray and placed them on a clean towel. She examined them closely. The edges of the buns were a little soggy but not bad enough to throw away. She and Tina stood next to the washer and ate.

“I don’t know. I was minding my own damn business and walking out with our food. Some jerk I’ve never seen before bumped into me. With his bump, and the door banging against me, the cups tipped over, and I got the brunt of it.”

“Did you yell at the guy?” Vic asked hopefully. Tina knew full well what Vic would have done.

“Well, no. He was already heading to the counter, and I was busy tipping over outside. I don’t even know who he is.”

“Tell me he was at least good-looking. A jerk like that has to have some reason to exist, doesn’t he?” Vic smirked as she popped three French fries into her mouth.

“Let me think about that for a second.” Tina frowned, trying to bring the image of the rude guy back into her mind.

“Does that really work? Your frown lines are going to be more pronounced if you do that too much, you know.”

“Shit, you’re right. Okay, I’m thinking… um… uh-oh.”

“What the hell does uh-oh mean?”

“I remember now. Maybe the bump was my fault. I’m pretty sure I was gawking at him through the doors when he rushed up the steps. I just stood there, staring at this hot hunk of manflesh coming toward me, and now thinking back, I’m positive I was blocking the entrance. No wonder he slammed into me, plus he was texting someone.”

“So, let me get this straight: you caused the Cokes to spill because your feet were frozen to the ground and he couldn’t get past you?”

“Yeah… I think that’s how it actually happened. That’s telling me this guy was as good-looking as Max. Damn it. Who the hell was he?”

“Maybe he was someone passing through town or visiting a relative. I mean, if he lived here, you would have recognized him, right?”

“Definitely. He had black curly hair that just skimmed his shoulders, and he looked to be over six feet tall. He seemed muscular… you know… fit. He wore tight jeans and had on a denim work jacket.” Tina frowned even harder as she tried to recall more.

“Stop frowning, and that’s pretty detailed information from someone who saw this guy for two seconds.”

“Actually I had about ten seconds if you count the time it took him to come up the steps. I’m sure I’ll never see him again anyway. Good, the washer’s done.” Tina threw her clothes into the dryer as they continued eating. “Oh yeah, Karen called me when I was walking to Amelia’s. She wanted to know if I was remembering to feed Claire every day. Come to think of it…” Tina laughed. “I’m just kidding. Anyway, she said they would be at her cousin’s farm soon, and so far, the road trip was going fine. She said she would call you tomorrow.”

Lisa Newman pushed through the front doors of Hair Brained and strolled in as though she owned the place.

“Crap,” Vic said. “There’s Ms. Pain in My Ass all-friggin’-ready. Why does she show up fifteen minutes before her scheduled appointment every stinkin’ time?”

“Let Jennifer deal with Miss Hotsie-Totsie for now,” Tina said with a mouthful of fries. “Finish your lunch.”

“Yeah, I know, but she’s a good tipper. I have to act like I give a shit.” Vic jammed what was left of the cheeseburger into her mouth and washed it down with water from the sink. “Lisa, good to see you,” she said, forcing a smile, as she walked back out into the main room.

Chapter Three

Karen glanced at the time illuminated in green on the dash panel of the SUV. She checked the navigation on her cell phone and directed Mario to exit the interstate at Oakley and head south. She wanted him to see Dodge City, the famous frontier town of the Old West. The points of interest she wanted to show him included Front Street, part of the Boot Hill Museum. Front Street was a partial reconstruction of Dodge City as it had looked in 1876. There was enough time to walk through the Boot Hill Cemetery and have a drink at the Long Branch Saloon. They stepped up to the plank boardwalk and entered through the wooden swinging saloon doors. A long, ornate oak bar was to their left. They walked across squeaky wide plank floors. The copper-painted tin ceiling glistened in the light of the period chandeliers. They sat at the bar, listening to the piano player tap at the keys. The bartender wore a handlebar mustache, waxed and twisted at the ends. He dressed in a starched-white shirt, bow tie, and a vest. Suspenders held up his wool pants. Karen ordered two cold mugs of the Long Branch’s famous sarsaparilla. The timing was perfect, giving them the opportunity to watch a reenactment of two gunslingers’ shooting it out on Front Street before they had to continue on, heading toward Yoder.

“Kind of fun, right?” Karen asked after they left.

“It was great, especially the Long Branch Saloon and the gunfight. Thanks for suggesting it. I had no idea we were that close.”

“Yeah… I remember going there as a teenager with five of my boy cousins on my dad’s side. I was sixteen and driving my dad’s car with all the cousins piled in with me. It’s funny how it seemed like such a long distance, but it was only an hour and a half from Hoisington. Some things just stick in your mind so clearly. I remember driving past miles of stockyards and the awful smell, and buying fake bullet-hole decals that we put on the windshield of my aunt’s car.” Karen laughed. “She thought those bullet holes were real for about ten seconds. Back then, Dodge City wasn’t quite as touristy as it is now, but it was fun seeing it again. It looks like we’ll arrive at Elton and Irene’s just after they sit down for lunch. I guess I should explain the proper etiquette and rules to follow around the Amish.”

“I have to follow rules? That sucks.” Mario turned the radio down and chuckled. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I’m actually serious right now.”

“Really?” Mario checked the rearview mirror and sped around a tractor riding the shoulder of the road. “Sorry… okay give it to me.”

“You wish, smart-ass. Anyway, don’t touch the women.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked with a head jerk in her direction.

“It means don’t shake their hand or hug them. Just politely say hello, or whatever, when I introduce you. You can shake hands with the men, though. That’s okay. I can hug the women, but not the men. It’s their way, and we have to respect it. Also, don’t swear! Just be nice, polite, and courteous, and everyone will get along fine.”

“Have you ever slipped with the swearing?”

“No… weird, huh? I guess I never swore until I met Jack. He can cause anyone to curse.” Road signs appeared. “We’re getting close. We only have about nine miles to go.” They turned south on State Highway 96. “Okay, turn left on Mayfield Road.”

Mario slowed down and made a left-hand turn onto a dirt road that probably wasn’t even wide enough for two cars to pass each other. “Wow, we’re actually out in the middle of nowhere, right?”

“Not as much as you think. Hutchinson is only ten minutes away, and it’s a decent-sized city. Yoder is tiny, but they have the essentials. Okay, slow down. Their farm is the next one on the right, where the bottoms of the trees are painted white.” Karen grinned, reminiscing about the time she’d commented to Elton about the white paint on each large locust tree at the front of the farm’s property line. He explained that he painted the trees not to show off but because they were hosting a wedding at the farm and he wanted things to look nice. What he didn’t understand was how Karen knew about the trees without being there herself. She explained how she’d typed the farm’s address into Google Earth on her computer and had zoomed in on the farm, showing close-up detail. The white paint on the trees had been clearly visible.

Elton had sat with his mouth agape, trying to grasp that type of modern technology. His only words had been, “Well, I’ll be.”

Mario pulled into the driveway and parked. “I don’t see any cars. They must be gone.”

“Seriously, dork… they drive horse and buggies. C’mon. Let’s bang on the door.”

Mario followed Karen around to the back of the small house. A much larger, two-story farmhouse stood right next to it. The squeaky sound of a hinge signaled the screen door was opening. A woman grinning from ear to ear stood in the entryway. She wore a simple light-blue dress that fell to midcalf, thick black stockings, and Croc clogs. The white apron tied around her waist showed traces of food that had been wiped on it and had deep pockets stitched into the sides. The white head-covering she wore was starched and pleated with the ties hanging straight down and covered every inch of her hair. She was slight in frame and probably in her mid-forties but looked older. She stood, holding a tiny barking dog, waiting for them to reach the door.

“Welcome, Karen! How did we get so lucky to see you this soon again? Come on in… Elton, Karen’s here.”

“Well, I’ll be. Good to see you, and you’re just in time for dinner.” He pulled himself out of the simple brown stuffed chair and adjusted his suspenders.

Karen and Mario entered the house through the enclosed back porch.

“Dinner?” Mario asked in a whisper.

“That means lunch in the Midwest.”

***

They entered the kitchen, and Karen made the introductions, explaining that Mario was a dear friend. A lunchtime bounty filled the table. Irene had already set two more place settings as the men discussed the weather. Mario looked around, surprised to see the house appeared the same as anyone else’s other than the walls being void of family portraits. He followed the pipes with his eyes, seeing how they led to lighting fixtures and the appliances.

Irene noticed him looking. “It’s propane gas lines. We have some creature comforts too. Elton, go fetch Rose. She’ll be so excited to see Karen again.”

Elton’s pants, full of patches, were dirty from the morning chores. He slapped at the ground-in soil, laughed at his own disarray, and disappeared out the screen door.

“Sit, sit. There’s plenty of food. Help yourselves.”

The lunch menu consisted of fried chicken, a macaroni casserole, carrots, and potato salad. A loaf of white bread and a stick of butter sat in the center of the table. Mario noticed two fruit pies cooling on the countertop.

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