Page 6 of Cherished Lands
The nickname hit like a slap, and my spine stiffened. I turned, finding Elliot leaning against the post office wall and wearing that infuriating half-smile. He knew I hated being called 'princess.' Half the damn town called me that behind my back—poor little wine princess, playing at running Daddy's business, wouldn't know real work if it gave her a French kiss.
Never mind that I had a degree in viticulture from UC Davis. Never mind that I'd worked every job at the vineyard since I could walk, from cleaning toilets to managing our wine club. Never mind that in the last year, I'd doubled our direct-to-consumer sales with the online store Dad had fought me on for months.
No, I was just the pampered princess in her ivory tower.
"Everton." I kept my voice cool, professional. The way Dad had trained me to address 'the competition.' "Mailing your going-out-of-business notices?"
His smile widened, and damn if it didn't do things to my insides. "Worried about us, Princess? That's sweet."
"Hardly." I clutched my package tighter. "Though I hear organic farming issodifficult to get right. All those pest control issues..." I let the words trail off suggestively, even as I internally cringed.
This wasn't me. I didn't actually want to perpetuate this ridiculous feud. Yet somehow, Elliot always managed to bring out this side of me. Something about him summoned the incorrigible little shoulder demon who made my self control snap and insisted that I should bait him into fighting with me.
"Yeah, must be nice having Daddy's chemical cocktails to rely on." He pushed off the wall, closing the distance betweenus. He smelled like citrus and cedarwood and sweat. "Though I heard some interesting rumors about your last certification inspection."
Heat flooded my cheeks. We'd passed the inspection, but barely. Dad's refusal to update our pest management practices had nearly cost us our organic certification for certain blocks. Another battle I'd lost.
"At least we can afford the inspection fees." I hated myself as soon as the words left my mouth. The Evertons' financial troubles weren't funny, and I actually respected their commitment to sustainable farming.
Not that I'd ever admit that.
Elliot's eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I'd gone too far. But then his gaze dropped to my mouth, just for a second, and the tension in the air shifted into something else entirely.
Do not think about how good he looks when he's angry. Do not think about how close he's standing. Do not think about that time at the harvest festival when you both reached for the same wine glass, and his fingers brushed yours and?—
"You know, Princess," he said, "one of these days you're going to have to admit that Daddy doesn't always know best."
The words hit too close to home, echoing my own thoughts from earlier. I took a step back. If I didn't put some distance between us, I was going to slap him... or kiss him. Neither seemed like a good idea.
"And one of these days," I replied, forcing ice into my tone, "you Evertons will have to admit that some traditions are better left in the past."
Like family feuds. Like outdated business practices. Like my vagina's reaction to inappropriate objects of attraction.
He smirked that stupid sexy smirk, and my core went molten.
"I'll see ya, Tessa."
God, I love the way he says my name.
And this was exactly why I avoided being alone with Elliot Everton.
My run-inwith Elliot had my blood pumping and my mind whirling. It was time todosomething.
I sucked in a deep breath of cold winter air and pushed through the heavy door of the brick office building. A tiny bell above the door jingled, and an older woman peered at me over the tops of her thick reading glasses.
"Oh, hi dear. What can I help you with?"
I wrung my hands together, more anxious now than I'd been twenty minutes ago when I'd decided on this course of action. "Hi, Jeanette. I was hoping to speak with Natalie."
Her eyes flicked to a closed door behind her before returning to me. "Ms. Choi is on a call at the moment, but if you take a seat, she should be finished soon."
"Sure, thank you," I mumbled, settling into one of the worn leather chairs in the waiting area. My leg bounced as I waited, the tick of the old clock on the wall marking each excruciating second. Finally, the door to Natalie's office opened. She started speaking to Jeanette, but the receptionist cut her off with a nod in my direction.
Natalie's eyes widened subtly as she spotted me. "Oh. Hi, Tessa. What can I do for you?"
I stood, smoothing my hands down my jeans. "I-I was hoping to speak with you."
"Okay, sure." Natalie cast a curious glance toward Jeanette, who simply shrugged. "Come on in."
