Page 27 of Twin Babies For The Grump

The front two buttons of her white short-sleeved blouse are undone, and her black slacks are just a little more rumpled than they should be.

“Coffee?” I ask, tilting the second empty mug at her.

“Please,” says Tess, taking a seat. “Cream, no sugar.”

“Really?” I snort with laughter as I prepare it. “I would have thought you were a sugar girl.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “You’ve already gotten me in bed, let’s skip all of the cheesy pickup lines.”

Setting the mug down in front of her, I slide into the chair with a mug of my own. “Good. I only had the one at the ready, anyway.”

“I would have thought that you were big on them. You just look the type,” says Tess.

I raise my brows. “I look the type?”

Her cheeks flush. “You know, out at the bar, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, I see. This is about bringing you home in San-Fran.” I take a long sip, mulling it over. Eventually, I decide to just keep to the relevant topics and point out, “I didn’t need a pickup line to get you in my bed.”

The blush gets even darker. “Touché.”

I look her over hard, and then admit, “But it might not have been pure chance, either.”

“You did know who I was,” gasps, Tess, looking offended.

I’m quick to hand-wave that idea away. “No, not that. I just—have you ever thought much about fate?”

Tess laughs. There’s a flicker of irritation curling through my chest; my sister always acts the same way.

“Sorry,” says Tess, sounding sheepish. “I just wouldn’t have thought that the King would, you know, buy into that.”

I flinch at the sound of my nickname. “Sorry about that. But the point is: do you know how many people live in San Francisco? How many people visit that city? To be there for a random visit, to stop at that specific bar the same night as me— and then all of this happening… I don’t know. I think that’s a lot of coincidences in a small amount of time.”

“When you lay it all out like that, I suppose I can see it,” Tess says. “It was pretty lucky that your father hired me. I was late for the interview.”

I snicker. “You were late for it?”

Tess frowns, just a little. “Don’t laugh! My car had a flat tire, and I didn’t have a spare. I had to walk halfway here!”

“You must have really wanted the job.”

“Delia Winery has a great reputation, and I’ve always wanted to do this. I mean, growing up in Napa Valley, the vineyards are sort of always there,” says Tess, with a shrug of her shoulder. She takes another sip of her coffee, Blanc coming in through the door behind her and settling on the ground underneath the table.

I reach out with one bare foot and rub at her flank. “That makes sense, I guess. I remember being a kid out here. It felt like the vineyard went on forever.”

“That must have been amazing.”

“It was,” I tell her. “And… You worked close with my dad, didn’t you?”

“I was full-time, unofficial manager,” admits Tess. “He was having a hard time keeping up with things, and I wanted to learn more about making wine. He taught me everything I know.” A pause. “Your father was a good man.”

“He was,” I say, pleased to hear her speak so fondly of my father. But even as that pleasant warmth is settling in my chest, a colder realization comes up behind it. I know that we’ve got a connection. And it does feel like fate is telling me what to do. But—

“I don’t know what the cameras are going to think about this,” I say, the topic change sudden. I clear my throat, letting myself slip easily into the hard-assed persona that turned Bale Enterprises into such a stand-up advertising company.

Tess looks startled at the change in tone. “What do you mean?”

I gesture back and forth between us. “This. Us. You said it yourself; Delia Winery is well-known in the area. My father had a strong reputation. If I’m going to keep the same connections he had, I need to make sure that my taking over the business only enhances the way that people view us.”

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