Page 100 of Gone With the Wine

I tell him about the award, which of course he knows nothing about. I show him the website listing all the nominations on my phone. “There’s my name!”

Antonio and others congratulate me, and so does Jansen, but I can tell he’s holding back, too. We need to be alone to celebrate this properly.

“Come over later,” he says in a low voice. “We’ll have a little celebration party.”

More excitement fizzes in my veins. “Okay.”

When I get to his place later, he has a dopey Moose snoozing in his bed and a bottle of Billecart-Salmon Brut Réserve chilling. I clap my hands. “Oh my God. I love that wine.”

“I’ve never had it, but it came highly recommended.”

I hurry over to Moose to give him gentle cuddles before he attempts to jump all over me and hurts himself. “Are you okay, little buddy?” I stroke his back. “You’re a brave boy, aren’t you? Good boy.”

Jansen pops the cork rather expertly, then pours wine into pretty egg-shaped champagne glasses. He hands me one, picks up the other, and says, “Congratulations, beautiful. This is just the start of an amazing journey for you, I’m sure.”

His words touch me and make my heart trip. “Thank you.”

Our eyes meet and hold as we touch our glasses together then sip the sparkling wine.

“Mmmm.” I hold the glass up. “Fizzy. Citric.”

His lips tip up with amusement. “Light bodied.”

“Yes.” God, I…like him. So much. I take a big breath. “My boss says we’ll talk about a promotion and a raise when I get back.”

Jansen’s expression doesn’t waver, although his eyes dim slightly. “Good for you. Congratulations on that, too.”

“Thanks.”

I’ve known all along I have to go back to Argentina. Maybe I’ve had fleeting thoughts about what it would be like to stay here. To be truly involved in Caparelli. And see Bar Down flourish. But those were just musings. Not real. And now…I have even more reason to go back.

Chapter22

Bianca

The harvest dinner at Belmonte isn’t super fancy, but I think I should wear something nicer than cut-offs or jeans. I’m not exactly a fancy person and I have exactly one dress here with me—a cotton sundress. Maybe this is a good excuse to buy something new?

There are a couple of small shops in town, but this warrants a trip to Napa where there’s more selection. When I ask Ana and Millie for advice on where to go, they want to come with me. So we’re going to do lunch and a little shopping.

“Okay, so what’s going on with you and the hockey player?” Ana asks.

“Jansen.”

“Right.” She grins.

“He and Miles have been running together,” Millie says, which I already know. “Miles thinks he’s a great guy.”

So do I.

“It’s just a fling thing,” I say, though the words feel hollow.

Millie’s driving and she parks in a parking garage in downtown Napa. We stroll down the street and around a corner and she leads us into a women’s wear boutique. I look around. It’s cute! Kind of funky, with a couple of purple velvet couches, bright pink pedestal tables, plants, and wicker-shaded pendant lamps.

I’m distracted by a display of jeans and sweaters, but Ana gently pushes me away from them and toward the rack of dresses Millie is already rifling through.

“Long or short?” she asks.

“I don’t know.”

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