Page 23 of A Sip of Sherry

“And then some,” Lewis said.

“When?”I asked.“When does she want to meet?”

Phoebe slipped her phone out and tapped the screen.“Her schedule is tight, but she has availability next Thursday.”

Mentally, I counted the days from now.It was Friday, so that would give me a week and a day to come up with the best pitch imaginable.“Give me a time, and I’ll make it work.”

“How’s ten?That way, the tasting room will be closed, and she can get the full experience without a single person in her way.”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll let her know.”Phoebe typed on her screen and then smiled.“Done.”

We both squealed, grabbed each other’s arms, and jumped up and down.

“Okay, I’ll let you go to the museum.”

“Oh crap!”I checked the time.“Love you.”I hugged Phoebe.“Sorry for almost running you over,” I said to Lewis.

An excited bubble welled up inside me as I slid behind the wheel, and visions of centerpieces, floral arches, and champagne towers danced through my mind as I started the engine.This wedding could change everything, not just for me, but for the vineyard.We were already insanely successful, and Grandpa had made a lasting impact on the wine community, but this could elevate us even further.Elevate the town and bring more business to the local shops.I pulled out of the lot with a smile on my face.

All I had to do was not spill wine all over someone’s Bigfoot figurine, then I could start planning the event of the year.

I hurried to the museum, grateful I didn’t get stuck in a traffic jam behind Albert and his tractor, and pulled into the first open spot.I didn’t have much in the way of setup since the décor was pretty much the essence of the museum itself.

However, I had wine, glasses, and napkins with the logo of the vineyard stamped on them.It would most likely be locals, and no one could ever mistake our wine for the competition, but I liked to make sure.There was nothing wrong with keeping the brand front and center to remind people where to get the best wine.

With a case in my arms, I stumbled on the uneven ground, then made my way to the door when the box was lifted from my grasp.“What the…?”

I turned, not knowing what to expect, but I most definitely didn’t expect to be staring into familiar green eyes.

“Ben?”I said, my voice breathier than I liked.“What are you doing here?”

His tousled, dirty blond hair caught the light and my attention.My gaze drifted across his broad shoulders to the box balanced effortlessly in his arms.His faded jeans clung just right, paired with that damn confidence he wore like a second skin.

His lips curved into a smug half-smile.“Isn’t it obvious?I’m helping you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Sure you do.Besides, you’re heading where I’m heading.”

My eyebrows drew together, my natural curiosity getting the better of me.“You’re going to Steve’s museum?Seriously?”

“He invited me when we were at Brady’s cask opening.He’s a hard guy to say no to.I think it’s the sad, puppy dog eyes.”

Steve was far from a puppy dog.He definitely resembled more of, well… Big Foot.

Ben lowered his head and looked up at me through partially widened eyes, a pitiful pout on his sexy lips.He laughed, obviously amused by his own comparison.“Okay, fine.Maybe not puppy dog eyes.More like the unwavering determination of a man who’s spent a good portion of his life trying to prove a large, muscular, hairy primate lives in the surrounding woods.”

“Just wait until he shows you his plaster cast collection.They’re behind glass like they’re the crown jewels.”

Ben bumped his shoulder against mine.“Honestly, that sounds like the most fun I’ve had in months.”

It was the slightest of touches, but it spread through me like wildfire.I kept my eyes forward, refusing to look at him.It also made me wonder if he’d been home alone at night.A weird sense of hope bloomed inside of my chest.I shoved the feeling down, refusing to acknowledge it, and forced a smirk.

“Don’t get too excited.Steve’s idea of fun includes a detailed slide show that runs about two hours and a heated debate over blurry photos of what he calls ‘Big Foot sightings,’ but if you ask me, they are just shadows from the trees.”

“So you’re a skeptic?”

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