Page 66 of The Bad Girl List

“Recognize these?” Tim asks with a wide smile.

My mouth goes dry. I shoot a worried glance over my shoulder to where Mom sits. She’s absorbed in conversation with Auntie Dee. “I–I didn’t think you recognized me.”

“I never forget a face,” Tim says.

“What’s going on?” Trevor asks, brow furrowing.

“Dominique and I have met before,” Tim proclaims in a voice that I’m pretty sure is loud enough to be heard all the way in Iceland. “She works for Presidio, the company I contracted with to redesign our wine label. I have to say, I really liked your designs, Dom. I know that may not have been obvious during the meeting, but I was just surprised to see something so unconventional. I asked to speak with you directly the next day, but Sophia said you had an appointment.”

Appointment. Right. With the unemployment agency.

“What are you guys looking at?”

I jump as Mom comes up behind us.

“Your daughter works for the company I hired for our rebranding project,” Tim says.

“You’re working with Presidio?” Mom asks, giving me a look. She’s not pleased I held out on telling her which winery I did design work for.

“We sure are.” Tim flashes me another one of those smiles.

My return smile is so brittle, it feels like it might crack my face in half.

I had been so worried about Mom finding out about Oliver, it never occurred to me to worry about Presidio coming up in conversation. After all, Tim hadn’t said anything when we spoke yesterday in Trevor’s bungalow. I had assumed he didn’t recognize me.

Nope. He’d recognized me alright. He’d recognized me and apparently planned this little surprise

“I wanted to talk to you about your designs,” Tim says. “Sophia promised to have you reach out, but since you’re here, maybe we could chat about some ideas?”

“Helen, Dee,” Mom calls. “Come see Dom’s designs. Remember when she told us she’d been working on a wine label redesign? It was for Moretti Winery. Tim has some of her designs set up in his office.”

Apparently, now that the cat is out of the bag, Mom has decided there’s no need to downplay anything.

It’s like watching a slow motion horror movie, that part when the ax or the knife is about to descend and strike the hapless victim. In this instance, the weapon takes the shape of Auntie Dee and Auntie Helen as they grab their glasses of Late Harvest and bustle over to the office.

I’ve never been good at lying. They are sure to see right through me, especially Trevor’s dad. I have a feeling his salesman senses can spot a lie from five miles away.

I’m about to be found out. Everyone is going to know I’ve been fired. I’m about to be embarrassed and humiliated right in front of everyone–in front of Trevor, his family, and my family.

CHAPTER 19

Terrace

TREVOR

Dom’s agitation is like sandpaper against my skin. As I try to figure out what has her so upset, a memory from our drunken tryst at Zeke’s rises to the surface.

I got really mad and decided to be a rebel, and I’m never a rebel, you know? Like, the number of bad and irresponsible things I’ve done in my life could be counted on one hand. But I decided to rebel against my boss and she fired me for it.

The pieces slide together in my mind. Just a few days ago, Dad had gone to San Francisco to meet with a design firm.

Dom had just been fired from a design firm.

The rebellion she mentioned is sitting right in front of me. It’s easy to see what she meant. Most of the labels look like rehashes of everything else you see on a grocery store wine shelf. An illustration of the winery or vineyard on a cream or white background.

Dom’s designs break all boundaries. They are colorful, unique, and modern.

“I really love these,” Dad says, “but I’d like to see some variations. Think we can chat through them over a glass of Late Harvest?”

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