Page 67 of The Bad Girl List

“I, uh, I guess so.” Dom’s eyes flick to her beaming family.

In all our time talking, she never once mentioned that she worked on my family’s label redesign. I wish she had said something to me, but I can understand why she didn’t. And from the pride in the faces of her family, it’s obvious why she hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell them she was no longer with Presidio.

I got her into this mess. That means I have to do something to get her out of it.

“Dad, it’s the weekend and Dom is on vacation,” I say. “It’s not fair to ask her to work.”

Helen says, “I’m sure she doesn’t mind.”

Dee says, “Dom, you don’t mind, do you?”

Mom says, “Dom has always been the artist of the family.”

Dom says, “I’m not really prepared. I don’t have my computer or any of my notes or the design brief–”

“No work,” I say firmly. “It's Sunday dinner, and I promised Dom a tour of our Viognier block.”

I take her by the elbow and rotate her body so that she faces the door. Tension oozes off her. We are faced with a wall made by her mom and two aunts.

“Excuse us,” I say firmly. “Dom and I are going to walk off our dinner.”

They fold apart like an accordion divider, making room for us to pass through them. Louise openly watches us, but the aunties only have eyes for the design boards. The three of them close back up behind us, continuing to exclaim over the artwork as I guide Dom past the table and out onto the veranda. She doesn’t say a word until we are off the porch, over the gravel walkway, and into the vineyard. Her tension seems to ratchet up with every step we take.

Finally, she speaks.

“Trevor, I have to tell you something.” Her sandaled feet send up puffs of loose dirt from the vineyard.

“I already know.”

“What?”

“You lost your job over my family’s label redesign.”

She stops. “How did you figure it out?”

I turn to face her. The moon is almost full, washing her smooth skin in pearly light. “The look on your face. Your reaction back there. The little you said about your job.” I rest my hands on her shoulders. “You could have told me.”

She visibly wilts. “I had no idea who you were when I met you. By the time I figured it out, it was just embarrassing. I almost had a heart attack when your dad first saw me at your house. I didn’t think he recognized me. ”

“Dad never forgets a face.”

She grimaces. “I won’t make that mistake twice.” Her chin tilts up, eyes searching my face. “Thanks for bailing me out in there. What are you going to tell your dad about me?”

“I’m not going to tell him anything. I’m not the idiot who fired you. I’ll let your ex-boss explain to my dad why you aren’t available to work with him directly on the project.”

“I’m not sure what’s going to hit my mom harder,” she says. “The fact that I broke up with Oliver, or the fact that I no longer work at Presidio.”

I wish I could say something to make her feel better. I wish I could gather her in a hug and squeeze all that tension out of her body.

“Do you want to go back inside and keep an eye on things?” I ask her.

She hesitates, looking back through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, then shakes her head. “You know what? I’m over this whole thing.”

At first, I think she means she’s over me, my family, and this whole fiasco I’ve orchestrated. I think she means she’s done with me.

But she isn’t finished. “If they find out, I’ll deal with the consequences. I’m tired of being stressed out. Annika is right. I need to stop worrying about what everyone will think and just live my life. I need some fresh air. Will you take me on that walk?”

“Of course.”

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