Page 15 of Let it Breathe
Lori stood up and adjusted her cleavage.
"Lori." She looked at me. "Sit down." I turned toward CJ. "I'll handle this."
Our offices were in the back of the main building of the winery. I looked down at my tweed dress with the V-neck and flared skirt. I wished I had grabbed my blazer off the back of the door. I checked my face in the mirror before stepping into the tasting area.
Donovan had his back to me. He looked different in jeans and a thin black long-sleeve sweater. He stood next to a guy his same height but a little thicker. He wore jeans and a blazer. They were huddled together talking in hushed tones.
The vineyard was quiet on weekday mornings. A group of three ladies was in a private tasting room off to the right. Instead of approaching Donovan and his friend, I stepped behind the bar on the opposite side.
"Mr. Bryant," I said. He turned, and when our eyes met, I swear my body remembered all the things he did to me in his hotel room in San Diego at once. My face felt flush, and my hands tingled. I held on to the edge of the bar as he walked toward me, his eyes—those damn eyes—taking inventory again.
"Ms. Darielle." He reached out his hand, and I shook it. It seemed forced, formal, and wrong. After his lips had kissed me in the most intimate of places, a handshake seemed inadequate. The way his eyes devoured me and what I imagined he had in mind was inappropriate. I was so grateful for the two feet of wooden bar between us. "This is my business manager and friend, Calvin Newman."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Newman."
"Pleasure is mine, Ms. Darielle." He shook my hand and winked.
"Please, call me Chai." I stared, trying to pick up on any hint that Mr. Newman knew what had happened between Donovan and I. Guys talk, right? If he did, he didn't let on.
"Lovely name," he said with a nod and a huge smile. "Chai. Like where they store wine."
"Very good. You've been doing your research," I said and tilted my head and peered at Donovan.
"So," Donovan said. He frowned at the both of us but turned toward Calvin. His actions seemed rehearsed. He tapped the bar with his fingertips.
"So I have been looking at some investment opportunities for Mr. Bryant. I ..."
"We," Donovan chimed in.
"We saw your presentation at the summit and wanted to learn more."
My father had come out on the main floor followed by CJ. He blinked when he saw Donovan as if he couldn't believe it. He was a fan.
"Sure." I motioned toward my father. "Donovan, Calvin, I'd like you to meet my father, Charles Darielle."
"Mr. Darielle"—Donovan gave him his million-dollar smile and shook his hand—"it's a pleasure to meet you. Your place here is beautiful."
"Great to meet you. This is my son, CJ." Donovan shook CJ's hand as well. CJ grinned, unable to contain his excitement. He wasn't a fan, but Donovan was famous and he affected people.
"Welcome to Darielle."
"As I was telling Chai, we are interested in some unique investment opportunities and were impressed with what we've heard about Darielle, so far."
"Terrific." My father grabbed Donovan's shoulders and led him to our wall of fame. My brother went behind the bar and pulled out one of our best vintages and a few glasses. He set them on a small table near the wall and opened the bottle as my dad talked about our history and our mission. Donovan and Calvin listened intently and asked thoughtful questions. I watched Donovan and waited for a sign his visit wasn't what he intended. He was professional and had my father and brother charmed.
He practically ignored me.
Why did that bother me?
They tasted the wine, and it was CJ's turn. For someone who wanted to sell our family business, he was the most knowledgeable about the wine itself. He had an amazing palette and could describe the nuances of any wine in a way that made the most ignorant taster nod and agree.
"You can pick up on the hard fruit with the subtle flowery notes."
Donovan and Calvin nodded and took another sip. They enjoyed the wine, and it gave all of us a great amount of pride. I hadn't seen my father smile like that in months. He was enjoying himself. I missed seeing him happy and excited about his family business. Usually, it stressed him out.
"Chai?" my father said. The whole group had turned in my direction.
"I'm sorry."
"Mr. Bryant asked if you would show him the winery and the barrel room while we talk with Mr. Newman here about the financials?"
Donovan had his eyes on me, studying my face. I forced myself to smile as I nodded, but my insides were a mess.
"Follow me," I said and blushed as Donovan leered in my direction. The last time I found myself alone in a dark room with Donovan Bryant ... let's just say it was not going to happen again.
