Page 109 of Love Unforgettable
“Usually it doesn’t just drop in your lap early on. An award such as this one is strived for a bit longer in a winemaker’s career.”
He is. What a dick.
“Hmm. I don’t know. That’s a good point, Sawyer. I guess I’ll just have to win it a few more times then. To make sure I’ve strived appropriately.” I raise my glass at him and walk away.
Is that what everyone thinks?
Doesn’t matter. You won.
You’re right. Chin up.
I exchange my now empty champagne glass for a full one and continue to wander the room. Hoping that not all my encounters will be like the one with Sawyer Grant.
I talk to a few more people, all of whom are very nice. As well as a fellow female winemaker, who makes me laugh the rest of the night.
* * *
I return to my room after another hour at the mixer, stuffed full of champagne, hors d’oeuvres, and industry gossip, only to realize I never unpacked.
And it’s as I’m unpacking that I realize I forgot my dress for the awards event.
Fuck. How does that even happen?
The way I see it, I have a couple options. I can buy something new tomorrow. I can ask Cole to grab it on his way up here or I can go home and get it. If I ask Cole to get it, he’ll see me before I’m ready to go and I won’t get that moment to wow him. If I go home and get it, I’ll lose most of tomorrow at the conference and there are a few panels I’d really like to see. Plus, my own panel that I am heading. If I have to go buy something new, and I want to see said panels, I need to wait until later in the day to go and I need to make sure I find something suitable. And I’ll be totally short on time to do so. I text Kat and Remi letting them know what I did and that they may need to help Cole get my dress. Then I call Cole and warn him that I may need him to grab my dress from my house before he drives up here.
“Sweetness, whatever you need. Just let me know. Is this a special dress or something?”
“No. And it should be easy to spot in my closet, but I can have Kat or Remi grab it for you too. Just tell them it’s the same one I wore to the Law Enforcement Ball.” I give him their phone numbers and tell him that I’ve already texted them.
“How’s your conference so far?” he asks.
“It’s good,” I say. Then I tell him about getting pulled on the panel earlier today, but I don’t yet tell him about Sawyer Grant and his chauvinistic attitude. And I’m not sure that I will.
“Hey, I’m sorry I was reluctant about you coming with me to this thing tomorrow night. I’m happy you are going to be there with me. I still want to keep it on the down low, but I’m happy you’ll be there.”
“About that . . .”
“What do you meanabout that?” He sounds like he wants to say something more.
“I’m happy I’ll be there too,” he says. “Hell, I couldn’t be prouder of you. This is a big accomplishment. I Googled it today. You can down play it all you want, but you’ve done something few people do. And you should feel good about this, sweetness.”
“Thank you,” I smile. “I’m trying. I promise.”
“That’s my girl.” It makes me feel good when he says that. I like the idea of being his girl. Unless he’s just saying that because it’s a saying. I mean, Kat has said that to me before and I’m not her girl. At least, not like that. Not like in the way I want to be Cole’s girl.
“Am I?” I ask.
“Are you what?”
“Am I your girl?”
“Sweetness, if you have to ask I have clearly been doing something wrong—”
“No,” I interrupt. “You haven’t. I just get unsure about things sometimes.”
“Lexie,” he says. “You are my girl. For as long as you’ll have me, you are my girl.”
“How can you know that?” I cringe as I ask it. Because I’ve asked it before. And I’ll probably ask it again. I’m so lame that way. Why can’t I just accept what he says and go with it?
