Page 11 of Love on the Vine
“Thank God!” Jin wrapped his arms around her, and she laughed, that same husky laugh that had my blood warming the first time I met her.
When Jin finally let her go she asked, “So, Jin, do you live in Shanghai?”
“No, doll, I live upstairs.”
“Jin lives here when he’s in town for work,” I explained. “But most of the time he’s between Shanghai and Singapore.”
“Your English is perfect,” Olivia said.
“It’d better be after two years at Harvard Business School.”
As Jin eagerly launched into a recital of his professional biography, my phone buzzed with a missed message. Relieved to have an excuse to leave, I said, “I need to make a call. I’ll let you two get acquainted.”
“Work?” Jin rolled his eyes. “Or is that one of your girlfriends calling?”
“Yeah, that’s it, Jin.” All I needed now was for him to remind me that I hadn’t been laid in months. Or was it a year now? I’d lost count.
However, if my reaction to Olivia was any indication, my body was clearly keeping score.
* * *
Upstairs I closed the door to my room and checked my messages. Two missed calls, one from Lucie and one from my mother. Fantastic.
My mother could wait. Our relationship was strained at best, and we sometimes went months without speaking. But since my father passed last year, she’d been calling more often, hinting that she’d like to come to Moustiers for a visit. I’d never invited her here for the simple reason that it had never occurred to me. And for the moment, I had more than enough houseguests.
Better to deal with Lucie first or she’d keep harassing me.
“Enfin!” She laughed, picking up after the first ring. “I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore.”
“As if that were possible,” I replied. Lucie and I had met when I first came to France. We’d dated off and on in our twenties until we’d wised up and decided we were better off as friends.
“You never know with you,” she scolded. “Now listen, I have important news.”
“Okay.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me what it is?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me even if I don’t ask.” I wandered over to the desk and flipped through the unopened mail. Bills, invitations to events I had no intention of going to, nothing interesting. “Does this have anything to do with the new magazine?”
Lucie’s family owned a French media and lifestyle company second only to LVMH. They’d launched a new food and wine magazine last fall and Lucie was now at the helm. She’d been bugging me to do an interview for months, but I hated that kind of publicity, even if it was good for business. And God knows that wasn’t going well these days.
“No, this is much bigger news. I’m getting married!”
I froze, my thumb still stuck under the envelope I’d been about to open and sat down in the leather armchair. “Seriously?”
I couldn’t imagine her settling down. Lucie had never been interested in marriage. She’d made that very clear when we were together, claiming that she got bored too easily. We’d never been exclusive, and that was fine with me.
“It’s crazy, I know. But I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” Through the phone, her voice practically vibrated with happiness.
“Is this Michele we’re talking about?” The last boyfriend I’d met was a banker from Milan with a bald head as shiny as his over-polished loafers.
“No, that ended last year. You haven’t met him yet. I’ll bring him to your birthday party.”
“You’re not throwing me a party this year,” I warned. For some reason she insisted on “surprising” me every year at my birthday. She found it hilarious that I never celebrated it. Turning another year older was the last thing I wanted to think about, especially now that I had decided that lusting after the twenty-three-year-old in my kitchen was something I ought to do.
“We’ll see,” Lucie teased. “Anyway, I want you to come to the wedding. It’s in late September.”
“Jesus, you’re not fooling around, are you?”
