Page 3 of Backroom Boy
She grinned and turned back around. I nearly swallowed my tongue, knowing exactly what had been on the table had I wanted to go there. My dick was pissed at my morals, unable to find enough room in my jeans after walking with Delta Bishop. As soon as she was in the back door of the house, I rushed down the path, veering left and heading straight to the pool house, slipping inside and locking the door.
“Fuck!” I said to my empty room.
I flopped down on my bed and grabbed my cell phone to text my buddy Dante that I’d arrived in Merlot in one piece, which I’d forgotten to do when I first got here. He hadn’t been happy when I got the job and decided to leave Auburn Hill for the summer. But he knew how much my dream meant to me and promised to support me. That was what best friends did.
After that was done, I stripped off my jeans and T-shirt and climbed into bed. I could have sworn I still smelled that mango scent. As soon as I laid my head down on the pillow, my hand shoved into my boxers and wrapped around my dick. It was still semi-hard from the encounter with Delta. Just thinking of her thick lips and sweet dimples had me hard and ready. I stroked up and down twice, rubbing hard enough to cause pain. I didn’t want to be beating off to the vision of Delta Bishop, but that’s exactly where my brain went. Envisioning those lips around my cock had me breathing hard. A few more tugs and the thought of her hair all around me, I’d made a mess on my stomach.
“Fuck,” I whispered, getting up again to clean up.
That shit couldn’t happen again. “Just put her out of your head and focus, Lukas,” I pep-talked myself.
I was here to learn.
Period.
2
Delta
“Delta!” Daddy’s tone was far too harsh for the headache brewing between my eyes that morning.
I took another sip of coffee before turning around and answering him. “Yes, Daddy?”
“Did you read through the folder I gave you last week? I need you ready.” He grabbed the plate of eggs and toast Mom handed him, smoothing his tie and sparing me a quick glance.
My stomach churned, a result of too much alcohol and not enough food in the last twenty-four hours. I couldn’t really blame myself though. It had been my last day of freedom before a summer of enslavement by my own father. No matter how many times I told him I wasn’t sure if running the winery was what I wanted to do with my life, he insisted on involving me anyway. The school year had just ended and here I was in a pair of black slacks and a starched white shirt bright and early on Monday morning, reporting for duty.
“Yes, Daddy. I read through it all like you asked.”
I would never share the fact that I’d been insanely interested to see the profit margin of an established winery. The number of zeroes had surprised me, even though we’d never been hurting for money and I lived in one of the most expensive houses in Merlot. Assuming and knowing were two different things.
We were filthy fucking rich.
“We only have the summer before you go back to Stanford, so you’ll be doing double duty. You’ll work the lowest jobs just like I did and just like my dad and granddad. I’ll also be pulling you into some higher-level meetings, so clear your calendar for the next two months.”
He exited the kitchen with Mom to eat breakfast at the long dining table. That was that, I guessed.
“Yes, Daddy,” I sighed to the empty kitchen. I grabbed a piece of toast and jammed it in my mouth, knowing I’d need the calories to get through working whatever menial jobs he threw my way.
Glancing down at my cherry pink nails, I sighed again, thinking about all the salon trips with my sorority sisters and the wild parties and the late nights giggling in our dorm room. Being home under my parents’ watch was going to be like a punch to the dick. Unwelcome and painful.
* * *
“This is Rosie. She’s the manager for the tasting room. Once you graduate from the back room, you’ll report to her.” Daddy swept through a doorway after pointing out a tall brunette behind the long countertop.
She smiled at me and I waved back before rushing after Daddy. He’d already introduced me to five other people as we went through the winery and I’d promptly forgotten all their names. Didn’t people believe in name tags anymore?
“Sure Rosie doesn’t need an extra hand pouring today? I read up about every varietal.” I floated it out there, full of both hope and desperation. If I had to work at the winery all summer, it would be really great to be out there where I could chat up the customers and keep things interesting.
Daddy tossed a dark look over his shoulder. “Nice try.”
I sighed and resigned myself to my fate.
The wooden floors were just as nice in this new area, but the lighting was terrible and the furnishings were sparse in the huge room I found myself in. A single person stood bent over an industrial steel sink against the far-left wall, up to his elbows in soap suds. A smattering of steel appliances surrounded him. Ah. We must have arrived at the infamous back room. The place I’d earn my street cred before being allowed to play with the big kids in the tasting room.
Daddy spread his arms out and grinned. “This will be your domain. No detail is too small, no effort goes unnoticed. Do your best work here and I’ll know you’re ready for more. Today you’ll work on cleaning all the glasses from the weekend rush, restock the wines out front behind the bar, and inventory the cheese and crackers so we know what needs ordering. Aprons are over there.”
He gestured to a small coat closet of sorts before giving me a pat on the back and walking out, whistling. I put my purse away, sliding my phone into my pants pocket, and grabbed a black apron emblazoned with our company logo. I always thought the two gold B’s wending around a bishop-shaped chess piece looked a bit like they were wrapping around something more phallic, but I never shared that with Daddy. I couldn’t help a chuckle as I tied the apron around my waist. That would not have gone over well.
