Page 46 of Love on the Vine
“Olivia, give me your phone,” said Claire as we drew nearer. “You’ve been photographing the vines all day. You should have a photo of yourself.”
“You’re right.” Olivia smiled and held her phone out. “Oh no, the battery’s dead.”
I took my phone out and passed it to Claire. “Use mine. Just remind me to send it to you.”
“You should be in the photo too, Jake.” Claire waved me toward Olivia. “Ah, come on. I know how much you love photos of yourself.”
I rolled my eyes at that but pulled Olivia closer, surprised at how natural it felt to hold her in the space between my shoulder and my heart. She wrapped her arm around my waist, and just as Claire was going to take the photo, King jumped against my leg, pushing me off balance and sending everyone into peals of laughter.
“Mais quelle pute!” cried Claire as she scolded King.
Only then did I notice that I still had my arm around Olivia. I held on a little longer, then let it drop away.
Chapter 14
OLIVIA
Iran my finger over the material of the dress hanging against the wardrobe, hesitant to put it on. But what choice did I have? It’s not like I could wear my jeans to the sommelier competition.
We were leaving Savigny-lès-Beaune tonight and heading straight to the wine festival near Cluny that Jake had been roped into. He didn’t seem too thrilled about going, but I was looking forward to it.
I’d only brought two dresses suitable for an evening out—this one was the most daring—so of course Jin had chosen it when he packed my bag. Black and formfitting with a slit up the long skirt, it displayed just enough cleavage to be sexy without being vulgar. I’d argued that it was too much and I wouldn’t have the opportunity to wear it, but Jin had insisted. Just like he’d insisted on packing my sexiest underwear and flimsiest sundresses.
Luckily, I’d thrown a pair of jeans and a couple T-shirts in my suitcase after he’d left, or I would have been working the vines in a miniskirt and halter top.
Taking a deep breath, I slipped the dress over my head and stepped back to check out my reflection in the mirror. Okay, soJin had been right to choose it. If I had any hope of getting Jake to kiss me again, it was in this dress.
There’d been a moment yesterday in the vines when I thought that he might have been tempted . . . but no. It didn’t happen, even though the setting was perfect—the sun dipping down over the vines making everything glitter and gold.
He may not have kissed me, but he had trusted me enough to confess that he was struggling with his taste. That meant something, right? We’d grown closer over the past week. So close that I was the only person who knew his terrible secret.
It certainly explained his moodiness and—I hoped—his reluctance to eat my food. It must be devastating for someone whose whole career, and a big part of his identity, had been built on his taste. I only wished there was some way I could help him.
A knock at my door made me jump.
“Do you want me to take your suitcase?” came Jake’s low voice, and my heart fluttered as usual.
“Um, okay. Just a minute.” I quickly swept my hair into a low, loose chignon—the only updo I had mastered—and swiped on the red Chanel lipstick Callie—the queen of red lips—had bought for me in Paris. With one last look at myself in the full-length mirror, I opened the door.
Jake, devastating in a blue-gray suit, stood frozen in the hallway. As his eyes roamed slowly over my body, sparks ignited over each inch of my skin. Knowing I had left him speechless made me feel powerful in a way I hadn’t known was possible. So this is what Callie meant when she said I needed to channel my inner sex goddess.
“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands over my ribcage and down my hips. “Jin packed my bag, so I can change if it’s too much.”
His mouth hardened when I mentioned Jin’s name like he didn’t know if he should yell at him or give him a raise.
“No, it’s fine.” His voice was clipped as he looked past me, a bit too deliberately disinterested, and I suppressed a smile.
He bent down to pick up my bag. “I’ll just take this and meet you out at the car.”
“Okay.” I followed him to the car where Claire and Clémence were waiting.
“Tu es magnifique, ma belle!” exclaimed Clémence. “Will you let me borrow this dress?”
Claire guffawed and pretended to check the dress size. “Even twenty years ago, I don’t know if you could have worn that. Not your style, my dear.”
“Too bad Stéphane isn’t here. You would have made his evening.” Clémence winked and dug her phone from her pocket. “Let me take a picture for him.”
“No photos,” Jake interrupted, a twinge of annoyance in his voice. “We’re running late.” He opened the passenger door for me and, after hugging the sisters, I slid into the buttery leather seat.
