Just a Kiss: The Single Girls Wine Club (A Wine Country Romance #1) (2 page)

It had been like throwing a dart for the first time and hitting the bull’s-eye for Sarah to score the lease for the Vine Café's sweet location on 1st Street East. She found it just a few months after moving there. The shop was smack dab in the heart of Sonoma, right across the street from all of the action at the Sonoma Plaza. The community gathered there for farmers markets in the summer, the Harvest Festival and the blessing of the grapes in the fall, and Santa visited every second week of December to light the city’s Christmas tree.

But Sarah wasn’t appreciating much of anything because she’d barely made it out of bed. She’d spent a brutal night deliberating every ‘What if?’ and ‘Why?’ of her new role of movie star mentor. When she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d slept face down, drooling on her pillow through her three thirty alarm.

Sarah rummaged through the deep recesses of her bag in the dark, quiet alley for her keys.

“What the heck… I just had them in my hands,” she said to the little orange tabby who always managed to appear at the side door of her café. She shook the purse harder until she heard a familiar muffled jingle and then pulled the keys out.

Sarah unlocked the door and stepped inside the kitchen with kitty following behind. Comforting smells and gleaming stainless counters welcomed her. She filled a ramekin with the organic cat food she'd finally succumbed to buying at The Granary, and placed it in the corner for the cat. She grabbed her apron from the closet, shoved her not quite dry hair in a net and got busy baking.

By ten, right on schedule, the serious crush of commuters and farmers left and a second wave of customers arrived. Every seat at the marble counter, salvaged from an old San Francisco Victorian, had someone sitting on it. The few coveted tables on the sidewalk and all five tables inside were full. The two takeout lines, one for pastries, and one for coffee were locked and loaded with customers.

Sarah buzzed on rote staying ahead of the orders side by side with Alicia, the part-time barista she’d just hired.

While counting the cups waiting on the counter for pickup Sarah yelled, “One double cap light foam, espresso, mocha light extra shot!” Pivoting back, she grabbed the next order.

“Double shot, caramel macchiato,” she said, ducking behind the espresso machine.

The entire room came to a standstill the second the little bell on the door rang, and he walked in, except Jamie Santino didn’t walk. Swaggering with a casual ease, he flung a look around the room before getting in Sarah’s line.

“You have
got
to be kidding me,” Sarah said under her breath, sneaking another glimpse of the Adonis patiently standing in line. Even though every woman scrambled to offer him a place in line in front of her, he declined and didn’t seem to mind waiting his turn. He caught her peeking, flashed a mischievous grin and gave her a little I-see-you wave.

Jamie Santino didn’t have to do anything to get attention. It was impossible not to look at him. The seated customers seemed to forget about their food and shifted in their seats, begging for a better look. Unless they’d been living in caves, they’d seen his face and other assorted attributes before, either on film, a billboard, a magazine cover or television.

His bare bottom was so delectable, that movie reviewers seeing it for the first time in
After the Lost
wanted to know if he’d used a stunt double. Headlines like
No Butts About it, It’s His!
and
The Power of Perfection
graced many of the tabloids. Jamie finally advanced in line and stood directly in front of Sarah.

He shrugged a strand of sandy blond hair away from his green eyes and she locked onto his gaze. Staying behind the espresso maker for protection, Sarah barely found her voice, “May I help you?”

“Sure can,” he said, his sparkling eyes not wavering.

Sarah gripped the coffee stained rag, hoping it would stabilize her.

He beckoned her with his index finger. “Could you come a little closer?”

He didn’t need to ask. The total package of Jamie Santino, the way he looked, more mouthwatering than anything she’d ever even thought of baking, made her lean toward him without a second thought.

Bending over the counter close enough that Sarah felt his breath tickle her neck and with sex oozing from his voice, he rumbled in her ear, “I guess you’re my boss now baby. Your wish is my command.”

She shot back behind the counter and took a deep breath. “Danica said you’d be coming in. You must be Mr. Santino.” She flung out her hand to shake his in such an exaggerated way, she felt like an idiot, so she forced a smile to take it down a notch. “I’m Sarah Dupont, nice to meet you.”

Jamie didn’t take her hand. Instead, he stepped back and moved his gaze slowly up her arm, lingering at her neck and down to her breasts. He didn’t seem to mind that Sarah was watching. It felt like an hour had passed before he grasped her hand and gave it a firm squeeze, causing her body to surge on contact.

Stop. Stop this right now. He's only an actor. He's just a normal guy who has a GQ rating instead of an IQ; that's all.
She tried not to look too anxious waiting for him to speak.

“Sarah,” he said looking like a lion licking his paws, “call me Jamie, darlin’.”

She nodded up and down.
Yes. Yes, he is so very gorgeous.

“Do you want to get this party started?” he asked flashing his dimples.

Holy hell.

“Let me show you around.” Sarah handed her rag to Alicia, motioning for her to take over espresso duties and ran her hands over the front of her apron smoothing wrinkles that weren’t there. She made a mental note to kill Danica.

“The place isn’t very big, let’s start in the kitchen.” Sarah led the way, with Jamie close behind. She felt the sweat puddling under her armpits, and couldn’t remember if she’d put deodorant on that morning. When she saw how much her hair had flattened and how pale she was in the mirror above the hamper in the kitchen, she freaked.

“This is where it all happens. Yup, right here in this kitchen.” Sarah extended her arm dramatically, presenting the room like it was a dream vacation, and she was a game show host. She stunned herself again when she caught another glimpse of herself in the mirror and noticed two smudges of chocolate frosting in the two worst places possible on the front of her apron.

She shot for nonchalance and said to her staff, “This is Jamie Santino. He’ll be helping us out for a little while.” She held her chin up.

Instead of greeting or even offering Jamie a gesture of any kind, the crew just stood there like dented soup cans.

Great, just great, after all of the work she'd put into creating a comfortable workplace she'd have to survive two weeks of this?

Sarah nodded to Manny, who always knew how to break the ice. “Manny is my right hand, Jamie. You’ll be able to learn a lot from him… Isn’t that so Manny?”

Manny adjusted his pose, so he stood even straighter. He planted his feet, folded his arms in front of him and shrugged. “Whatever you say,” he said, without moving an inch.

Jamie observed him but said nothing.

“And this is our walk-in.” Sarah pointed to the massive refrigerator, thinking of her hairy legs shuffling toward it. “Go ahead, you can open it and take a peek.”

Jamie turned his back to her, opened the latch and bent over for a look inside. She tried to stop herself, but couldn’t resist checking out his buns.

“All righty then.” She sighed.

“So this will be okay?”

“What?"

“My working here?” Jamie asked.

“Sure, why not?” She sighed in resignation. “I think we can handle it for a few weeks.”

“Thank you,” he said, startling her with the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen. “What time do you want me?”

“Anytime.”

“Anytime?” Sparks flew from his eyes, and Jamie maintained a stare long enough to mesmerize her.

“Four a.m. I mean, if you want. I know it’s kind of early, but I usually get here around three forty-five, and I can show you how to make the most delicious shortbread cookies tomorrow.” She wanted to smack herself for babbling.

“I needed you to say yes today.” He moved toward her, and Sarah gasped, simultaneously sucking in her stomach.

“Thank you so much.” He took her hand in both of his, holding it for an instant. He started to leave and stopped. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, leveling her with the naughtiest grin.

Whatever switch that had been stuck on the off position for Sarah turned on.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” Sarah said before taking a big gulp of Honig Sauvignon Blanc. All four women were well into hour two of Chill Hour.

“You know it’s very unbecoming for a lady to slug her wine. It’s not a shot glass,” Danica said. “And who’s the drama queen now? There’s nothing for you to do. Open the door, let him in, and put him to work. He’ll be gone in fourteen days. I don’t see how he’ll change your routine in any way.”

“You don’t know,” Sarah said. “You weren’t there. You can't just sneak Jamie Santino into anywhere, and think people wouldn’t notice. It’s crazy town when he’s there. Insane.”

“Did you have to spend a lot of time training him?” said her landlord, Lulu Castelli, scooting her chair closer to the conversation.

“No, I barely talked to him,” Sarah said. “He's very distracting, let's put it that way.”

“You’re just not used to anything exciting.” Danica crossed her legs and settled back in her chair. “You’re probably nervous because he’s changing your routine, and he’s so frickin’ gorgeous. I almost lost it the first time I met him, and you know how crazy I am about Michael, so that’s saying something. You’re not used to being around guys.”

“Lots of guys come into the Vine Café every day, and I actually employ men,” Sarah said.

Juliet pursed her lips. "Manny and The Egg Man don’t count.”

“You haven’t taken a day off since you moved here, honey,” Lulu said. “Maybe you should go out and roll around with something besides dough.”

“Ha! Good one, Lulu!” Juliet raised her glass.

The four women took sips, relaxing in silence.

“He has that thing celebrities have,” Juliet said. “It’s what makes them so successful. Try not to get too rattled. Remember, he’s just a person.”

Sarah put her glass down. “I’m not star struck. I’m just not prepared to have
that
kind of person, waltzing into my business, ruining everything."

Danica and Lulu looked at each other. “Ever since you moved to Sonoma, you’ve been using your bakery as a hideout,” Danica said. “You’ve always been shy, but it’s getting ridiculous.”

Lulu reached over and patted Sarah's knee. "It's just a little change, honey. It might do you good."

The next morning, Sarah didn’t bother parking her Prius. She stopped the car where it landed in the lot. With her keys in hand, she bolted to the side entrance of the Vine Café.

"Hi, Kitty, let's make it quick. We’ve got a big day ahead of us," she said, shoving the key in the lock. Her blow-dried hair was slicked back neatly, tucked into her scarf. She changed the station from R & B to classical, fired up the ovens, and rushed to get her equipment laid out on her pastry table.

After finding her idiot ex-fiancé bottom up on the treasured table with Samantha (her friend and accountant), bottom down, Sarah considered leaving the table exactly where she had found them on it, in her San Francisco bakery, but couldn’t bear to leave it behind. She adored the table because it was the last item she and her mother had bought before she got sick. Remembering the day they’d found it in an antique shop in Petaluma, and seeing it now, made her think of how proud her mom would’ve been.

She grabbed her cell phone and walked through the dark main room of the Vine Café to the large glass front windows. Streetlights lit the shadowy main entrance. The sun hadn’t begun to show its face yet, and her delivery wasn’t there either.

She hit the direct dial and got an immediate answer.

“Good morning, in the morning!” Bobby, The Egg Man said, sounding like he’d had at least five cups of coffee.

“Hey Bobby, how’s it coming?”

“I’m on my way, Sarah.”

“No worries, I just got a little concerned.”

“Well don’t be. You want fresh eggs? I got them five minutes ago,” Bobby boasted. “Yep.” He chuckled. “I’m in the truck now and you’re my first stop. I’ll drop ‘em by the front door.”

After saying goodbye and hanging up, Sarah scurried to the kitchen, pulled her precious handwritten recipes out of the binder and double-checked the ingredients.

“Oh Kitty, I’m sorry!” she said, noticing the tabby sitting so sweetly in his usual place by the door, waiting. She quickly put a little kibble in a ramekin. “Here you are.” The purring started the instant she laid the bowl in front of him.

Sarah felt heat radiating from the ovens and knew they’d be at full temperature in seconds. All she needed were the eggs and Jamie. She didn’t want to start without him but if she waited too long, there wouldn’t be anything ready at six-thirty when she opened.