Page 53 of You Had Me at Merlot

Leighton peered out the window. “You haven’t moved. Still close to work.”

“The best part.”

They bid their driver, who Leighton called Robin, good night and made their way to the elevator. “No doorman,” Jamie said, feeling the need to point out her working class lifestyle.

“Most buildings don’t have doormen.”

“Yours surely does.”

Leighton leaned back against the side of the elevator as it ascended. “Does that matter?”

“No.” She placed a hand over her heart. “I love my place.” The elevator dinged. “And here we are.”

She scooped up the envelope leaning against the door, let them in, and watched Leighton’s face as she took in what Jamie always thought of as a homey space. “Jamie. It’s the same place, but not really at all.” She pointed to the wall that showcased a series of framed photos of landmarks from around the city. “I love this series.”

“Thanks. I bought them right off the wall of the café. I love whatthe photographer did with light and shadow.” She grinned, her heart squeezing pleasantly that Leighton had noticed them. Details mattered. The deep violet throw pillows on the lime green couch with the sculpted back. A large bookshelf, filled to the brim with the stories she’d lost herself in over the years. A few framed and matted classic rock albums that reminded her of the music she’d grown up with. To make up for the square footage, the ceilings were high, which was one of the reasons she’d snatched the apartment up years ago. The last time Leighton was here, she’d not taken the time to see it through her eyes. It was fun doing so now.

Leighton strolled through the short entryway into the living space. “I’d live here.”

Jamie took joy in the compliment. “Thank you. I really like it here.” A beat. “Not that I wouldn’t trade for the lap of luxury. Is that kind of your speed uptown?”

Leighton laughed and took a seat on the far side of the couch grabbing a glimpse of the view which offered a sliver of the river if you looked to the far right. She wasn’t sure Leighton had. But something about her making herself at home pleased Jamie very much, stripping away any element of formality. They were no longer guest and host but just a couple of business partners having a drink. Sigh. And maybe friends? She honestly couldn’t keep her head and heart from mingling. It was a problem.

“My apartment is too big. I’ve always thought so,” Leighton said.

“Then why hold on to it? I imagine you could move into most any place you wanted.”

Leighton tilted her head, searching for the words. “I was hoping it wouldn’t just be me there one day. I guess I’m holding on forthat.”

“Oh.” Jamie imagined Leighton hand in hand with a girlfriend, a fiancé, a husband or a wife, and immediately set the image aside. It wasn’t one she cared for. She also refused to imagine herself in that role at all, making the overt reaction confusing. Something to examine another time. “How about that drink? Got the papers right here.”

Leighton beamed and followed Jamie into the kitchen just off the living area. She easily found the bottle of prosecco she’d purchased recently for this very occasion and went to work on the cork. She could feel Leighton watching her.

“I’m impressed with how easily you’re maneuvering that thing.”

“I work at a wine bar. It’s all about finger placement.”

Leighton’s eyes went wide and Jamie heard her words, cueing the laughter. Both hers and Leighton’s. “Yeah, I just said that out loud.” Her face had to be going red as so much heat hit her cheeks. The cork popped, and they laughed even harder, tears pooling in Jamie’s eyes. “Oh my God. Too many metaphors here. I just can’t.” She wiped the tears.

“The timing on that cork…” Leighton wheezed.

“The best.” Jamie shook her head, wrestling for control again. They took a minute to compose themselves, and Jamie poured two flutes of bubbly.

“Now the reason for our assembly.” She produced a bundle of paperwork. In reality there would be many more signatures in a formal setting, but the last page felt like a big deal. With a flourish she applied her signature, to which Leighton applauded and raised her glass.

“A toast to the future of Bordeauxnuts in New York City. Hell’s Kitchen has no idea how lucky they’re about to be.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jamie said and touched her glass to Leighton’s with a soft clink. They sipped their prosecco and grinned. Now what? Jamie was suddenly hit with a shot of nerves and turned to her counter, where she found her Bluetooth speaker. Music, something to cover the silent tension in the room, was needed because all she could concentrate on now was Leighton’s big Bambi eyes, Leighton barefoot in that dress, Leighton standing in Jamie’s kitchen like a Christmas present to unwrap. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all.

She found a station on her phone that was essentially mellow soft rock, turned, and knocked over her own drink. “Dammit.” Little tipsier than she’d thought.

“I got it,” Leighton said, quickly retrieving a roll of paper towels in the same moment Jamie grabbed a dish towel to soak up the stray liquid. They met at the counter and worked together in an overlap to clean up the spill.

“Do you think this is a bad omen?” Jamie asked. “Spilling the celebration bubbly can’t bode well.”

“I don’t know,” Leighton said, meeting Jamie’s gaze from merely inches away. “It doesn’t seem so bad right now.” The implication was clear.

“No.” There she went, telling the truth. In the moment, she didn’thave the capacity not to. The room was a little swirly, and Leighton smelled amazing. Beachy and sweet. Her eyes were soft, and Jamie so vividly remembered what they looked like right before she was kissed. Yes, kind of like that, she thought as she leaned in, pressing her lips to Leighton’s. Good God. Better than she’d even remembered. She sank into a heavenly oblivion and didn’t want to return. Leighton parted her lips to receive the kiss, and perfection ensued. She was transported in time back to that night in this very apartment. Desperate to live in the feeling for a little while longer, she stepped closer, clinging to the euphoria, to Leighton. She went up on her toes and cradled Leighton’s face just as her tongue slipped into Jamie’s mouth. Satisfaction. Yet Jamie was desperate for more while savoring the pace of the kiss. Leighton angled her head, and their lips clung, made to fit. Heat descended like a lightning bolt, and the blur that was real life seemed a distant distraction. She didn’t care. Leighton’s tongue explored her mouth, and the center of the universe shifted. How had she gone so long without feeling what she was in this very moment?

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