Page 73 of The Potter

“You know,” he says, “I used to think this was free labor under the guise of tourism.”

I look back, my brows pinched in confusion while he grins, pointing to the grapes in my hand. “You’re doing all the picking for them, and what makes it brilliant is you even pay to do it.” He shrugs. “It’s a genius business strategy.”

I can’t keep the laugh bottled up. “Stop. Do not even bring that pessimism into my happy bubble right now.” Tossing more grapes into the basket, I grin. “It might be ridiculous, but it’s not a hospital room or my bedroom. I’m walking on my own without a walker and having a great time doing it.”

I realize a moment too late, when Vance’s smile falters, that I ended up being the one to bring negativity into our fun outing.

By lunchtime, our basket is overflowing with grapes.

“Are you done now?” It’s the same question Vance asked five minutes ago. And unlike last time, I finally give him a different answer. “I think so. My hips are getting sore.”

No matter the scenery, the reality is always the same: I will never be able to climb mountains or run miles. But at least I get to explore, and that’s all that matters to me—new adventures and new memories.

“How about we grab lunch and rest for a while?”

Honestly, I could use a chair and a glass of water, but I don’t want Vance thinking I can’t go on the rest of the day. “Sure. If you’re hungry, I could eat.”

We end up at this cute little café where I shove down all of my food and several bites of Vance’s. “This was really good, thank you.”

Vance tips his chin like he’s too cool to agree with me. “How are you feeling?”

Always the doctor. “I’m feeling like I’m ready to stomp some poor, pitiful grapes.”

Vance finally told me that he booked our tickets to the grape stomping at one o’clock. I don’t quite know what all is involved in the art of stomping grapes, but I’m excited to find out.

“Are you done picking at your food?” I point to the fish and chips mostly untouched.

“I’m done.”

I’m concerned he hasn’t eaten and spent most of our time in the café, looking around as if he was waiting on crotch-sniffer to jump out of a bush and slap him again. Which, I wish she would. I’d love to pop her around a little and show her how it feels. It’s not like I don’t understand what she’s going through, I do. But no emotion, not even grief, warrants putting your hands on someone. Especially someone whom you were friends with. Twat-monger—or Calista—whatever her name is, should know that Vance is grieving just as much as she is. Though, I can get rowdy if she decides to put her hands on him again.

“Good.” I stand from the table and take Vance’s hand. “Let’s go stomp out some aggression.”

“Will both of you be participating?”

Vance waves a hand at the lady behind the desk, shaking his head. “No, just her.”

My eyes shoot up. “You’re not going to do WWE Grape Smash with me? I thought we agreed at lunch that we both need to relieve some tension.”

He makes a face that says,does it look like I offer free labor? “No.Wedid not agree.”

Vance hands over the ticket to the woman and ignores my glare. “Give me your shoes and go rinse your feet with the other generous patrons.”

Grinning, I slip off my shoes and press them to his chest. “Be careful, Dr. Potter, your uppity is showing.”

“My what?”

“Uppity,” I clarify. “You refusing to have fun because it’s technically making the winery money.”

Dr. Potter lifts a brow. “It’s not about the free labor but more about the two-thousand-dollar suit I’m wearing.”

Have you ever? “Why didn’t you wear jeans and a T-shirt?” Who tours a vineyard in a suit anyway?

“I didn’t bring other clothes.” The way he says it all nonchalant is like he has no idea how pretentious he sounds. But, playing devil’s advocate, he wasn’t expecting to stay all weekend. For all Vance knew, he was flying here, spending the night, and flying back. No detours through the vineyard.

“Fine. I’ll accept that excuse this once. But next time, you’re totally stomping grapes with me.”

It’s then I realize that I basically just admitted I want there to be more dates with Dr. Potter. If you can even call this a date. It’s not. Vance is just being sweet and atoning for all the asshole comments and dickish behavior he exhibited the past few weeks. Nothing more.

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