Page 81 of Sweet Escape

The server arrives then, cutting off our conversation. But when I see it’s Harper, I can’t help but laugh inside. According to Murphy, she’s great at her job, except for when I’m around. My sister says it’s because I’m intimidating.

“Hello, Mr. Hawthorne,” she says, giving me a tight smile. “Can I get either of you something to drink?”

“Chardonnay?” I ask Vivian.

She smiles and nods.

“A bottle of last year’s chardonnay, please.”

Harper nods and then scurries away, not telling us about the specials or asking if we’d like to order any appetizers, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“She looked terrified. What did you do to her?” Vivian asks, one eyebrow raised.

I shake my head, smiling. “Nothing! I didn’t do anything. She’s easily flustered by handsome men, would be my best guess.”

Vivian barks out a laugh. “You know, I always figured you were a guy who couldn’t fit his ego through a doorway, and you’ve finally confirmed it for me.”

Lunch goes pretty smoothly after that. Harper manages to take our orders without having a meltdown. Vivian and I talk about the vineyard and what it was like for me, growing up in a small town and then taking over the family business.

It’s easy. Natural.

Like everything is with Vivian.

But she’s leaving tomorrow.

The thought has stayed ever present in the back of my mind throughout the day, and remains at the forefront as I pay the check and we finish off our last glasses of wine.

I can barely admit it to myself, but the truth is right there, plain as day.

I don’t want her to leave.

I don’t want these two weeks to be the only thing we get.

Not that she could stay.

That would be unrealistic.

And I am a realist over everything else.

But maybe ... this doesn’t have to be the end.

Not yet, anyway.

I wait off to the side while Vivian and Murphy chat for a few minutes, and then the two of us leave the restaurant and meander back to the house.

“So, what are you going to get up to for the rest of the day?” I ask as we come to a stop next to Vivian’s rental parked in our driveway, stalling for time.

She shrugs. “I need to pack, but ... I’m not really sure what else. Probably practice one of my new songs. Or something.”

“The one about my massive, oversize grapes?” I tease, trying to keep the tone light even through the twinge of sadness.

Vivian pokes my stomach. “Obviously.”

I lick my lips, trying to think of anything else to say. Wondering what Ishouldsay.

She can’t just leave, right? I mean, not that abruptly.

I swallow hard. “Is this goodbye, then?”