Something in the Wine (29 page)

“I’m sure it won’t take more than an hour,” her boss said when she stayed silent. “I’ll pay for the overtime, of course.”

Annie glanced back and forth between the phone and the window. Proving herself as competent and reliable was important to her. But saying yes to her boss would mean not getting to spend time with Drew. She paused when she realized how important spending time with Drew had become.
How did that happen?

“Annie?” Mr. Cargill asked. “Are you still there?”

“Yes,” Annie said. Her thoughts were racing while she tried to come up with a compromise that would make everyone happy. But this time, there was no compromise. It was either her boss’s needs or her own. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cargill, but I can’t come in. I’m on my way out the door for an important appointment.”

Silence answered at the other end of the line, showing her how surprised Mr. Cargill was by her answer.

And he wasn’t the only one who was surprised.

“Oh.” Mr. Cargill sighed. “Well, I guess the problem will still be here on Monday.”

“I’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow morning,” Annie said. She finished the call and stared at the phone in her hand.
Wow. I said no to my boss.
She shook her head and grinned at herself.
Sarah would be proud. And Drew.

The doorbell rang.

Drew! Finally.
Annie set down the phone and hurried to the door to buzz Drew in. After a few seconds, she heard footfalls on the stairs and peeked through the peephole. Her heartbeat accelerated at the sight of Drew walking toward the door, dressed in a gray button-down shirt and faded jeans that clung to her strong thighs.

The knock on the door made Annie jump even though she was expecting it. She ran her palms down her pant legs again and opened the door.

“Hey, Annie.” A warm smile brought out the dimples in Drew’s cheeks.

Annie smiled back but didn’t know what to do with her hands.

Drew solved that problem by giving her a hug.

Tiny shocks raced up and down Annie’s body. She allowed herself to melt against Drew for a moment before she pulled back. “Let’s go,” she croaked.

“You didn’t catch a cold too, did you?” Drew directed a worried gaze at her. “You sound a bit hoarse.”

“No, I just ... um ... no. I’m fine.” Under the pretense of getting her purse, Annie turned away to hide her burning cheeks.

But instead of waiting at the door, Drew followed Annie inside. “You need to change before we go.”

“Change?” Annie stared down at herself and bit her lip.
You look like an accountant. Then
she straightened her shoulders.
What do you care if she likes the way you dress?

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to explain. I had a great idea on where to go for dinner. It’s not a restaurant, so I had to do some last-minute preparations. That’s why I’m a bit late.”

So it hadn’t been Lynn who had made Drew late. The tension receded from Annie’s shoulders, and she inwardly growled at herself for caring where Drew had spent the night. “Where are we going?”

Drew shook her head. “I’m not telling you. It’ll be a surprise.” Her dark eyes glittered like those of a child with an exciting secret. “Just dress warmly. Jeans, a sweater, and a jacket. And sensible shoes because we need to walk some distance.”

As Annie walked toward her bedroom to change, a thought shot through her mind,
A woman in sensible shoes. Didn’t one of the websites say that’s another term for lesbian?

* * *

“Where are you taking me?” Annie asked for the third time.

Drew smiled and threw a quick glance at her puzzled passenger before she focused on the road again. “Don’t be so impatient.” She reached over and nudged Annie’s knee. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Annie said without any hesitation.

Her tone said it wasn’t just an empty reassurance.
She really trusts me.
The realization made Drew feel better than she had when she won an archery competition. She suspected that Annie’s trust was a prize that was harder to achieve than half a dozen bull’s-eyes in a row.

They rode the rest of the way talking about Drew’s work in the vineyard and about the novel Annie was reading.

Finally, after an hour, Drew turned into a small parking lot. “We’re here.” She got out and circled the car to open Annie’s door for her. Doing little things like this for Annie felt good even though Drew scolded herself for treating Annie like a date.

“Here? But that’s ...” Annie got out of the car and paused. Her chest lifted and fell as she breathed in the salty air. “We’re at the beach.”

“Yes.” Drew lifted a large basket and two blankets from the trunk. “I thought we could have a picnic.”

One of Annie’s brows rose. “A picnic? In November?”

Drew suppressed a smile. Clearly, Annie wasn’t the adventurous type. “Anyone can have a picnic in July, and this is California after all. We won’t freeze to death.” She settled the handle of the basket in the crook of her arm and lightly touched the small of Annie’s back to guide her.

Side by side, they strolled along the wooden boardwalk that ran the length of the cliff above the beach. An elderly couple sat on one of the benches, and a woman had taken an easel down to the beach, but otherwise, they were alone. Seabirds flew daring maneuvers around them.

If we’re lucky, we’ll also see ... Ah, there they are.

Two ground squirrels skittered over the planks. Instead of running away, they approached Drew and Annie. One of the squirrels lifted up on its hind legs as if to see what the humans had brought.

Drew reached into the covered basket and pulled out a handful of peanuts. She handed half of them to Annie. “Ever fed a squirrel?”

Annie shook her head but willingly took the peanuts. “Wow, you came prepared. How did you know there’d be squirrels at the beach?”

“I’ve seen them here before,” Drew said. “They’ve gotten used to people and can get quite pushy. Last time I was here, they nearly stole my granola bar, so I thought I’d bring some nuts with me, just in case.”

They sat on a bench and dropped peanuts at their feet.

A third squirrel scampered over and chased off the other two.

“Hey!” Annie waved her index finger at the squirrel. “Don’t be such a bully.”

But, of course, the squirrel didn’t listen. It gobbled up the treats until its cheeks bulged.

When all the peanuts were gone, the squirrel ran down the boardwalk, its bushy tail fluttering in the wind.

Drew watched Annie take it all in. A sense of awe made Annie’s usually controlled face glow. Drew smiled, glad she hadn’t just taken her to a restaurant. Moonstone Beach was one of her favorite places, and she was happy she could share it with Annie. “Come on.” She stood and led the way to the stairs. The wind picked up as they descended to the ocean.

Instead of sand, tiny, colorful pebbles covered the beach. They strolled along the shore, stepping over driftwood or stopping to pick up shells every once in a while. Waves crashed against rocks jutting into the ocean, and in the distance, seals soaked up the last rays of sunshine.

God, this is ridiculously romantic.
A few times, Drew barely resisted the urge to take Annie’s hand.
Maybe bringing her here wasn’t such a good idea after all.

One glance at Annie made her change her mind. With her golden hair blowing in the wind and her cheeks reddened by the breeze, Annie looked more carefree than she ever had. She walked with her head held high, not slouching as she often did.

Next to a large piece of driftwood, Drew set down the basket and unfolded one of the blankets for them to sit on. When Annie sat cross-legged next to her, Drew settled the second blanket over their laps. “Is this okay?” She nodded down at the shared blanket.

“Of course,” Annie said, but her gaze wandered to something behind Drew.

Drew turned and followed her gaze.

A bit farther down the beach, a woman made use of the gorgeous fall weather to paint a seascape. The woman glanced at them and then looked back at her easel.

“That’s not your mother, is it?” Drew asked.

Annie jerked around. “What?”

“The woman with the easel ... she’s not your mother, is she?”

“No,” Annie said. “My mother lives in Fresno and doesn’t come here to paint. I don’t know the woman.”

What is it, then? Is she uncomfortable with someone seeing us share a blanket?
But Annie said nothing, so Drew decided to let it go. She needed to trust Annie to tell her when something made her uncomfortable.

Drew unpacked the basket. Their improvised dinner consisted of cheese, grapes, French bread, and chocolates. When she had remembered that Annie was a vegetarian, she had left her favorite spicy salami at home. She uncorked a bottle of her best Cabernet Sauvignon and poured Annie a glass, then filled her own. “It’s not a four-course meal,” Drew said, “but it’s the best I could do at such short notice.”

“Oh, please, don’t apologize. This is the best dinner I’ve had in ...” Annie shrugged. “Probably forever. I’ve never had a picnic on the beach.”

Drew lifted her glass. “Then here’s to picnics on the beach. May there be many more of them in your future.” One second after she had said it, Drew scolded herself.
That’s practically telling her you want to spend more time with her in the future.
But Drew knew giving in to that wish wasn’t healthy.
After Thanksgiving, you need to keep your distance, at least until you get rid of that damn crush and can just be her friend, without daydreaming about more.

Annie touched her glass to Drew’s. “And in yours.”

When they took the first sip, their gazes met over the rims of the glasses.

For a moment, Drew thought she read the same longing in Annie’s eyes, but then Annie’s gaze veered away toward the point where the ocean met the sky.
Just wishful thinking.

* * *

Annie swept a few bread crumbs from the blanket.

Drew lay stretched out next to her, her arms folded behind her head.

The sound of the waves crashing against rocks created a soothing rhythm. The sun was slowly creeping toward the horizon, but the blanket provided enough warmth.

The woman farther down the beach packed up her paints and easel and left.

Finally.
Annie leaned back on her elbows. At last she could enjoy Drew’s company without worrying about how it seemed to others. It bothered her that she cared about what a perfect stranger thought, but she couldn’t help herself.

Again, like a catchy song that she couldn’t get out of her mind, Sarah’s words echoed through her.
Maybe your reaction isn’t about Drew and her sexual orientation. It’s about yours.
“Drew?”

“Hmm?” Drew opened her eyes and looked at her, her gaze warm and open.

Annie swallowed but finally found the courage to ask, “How did you know you’re gay?”

Drew sat up so that she was face to face with Annie. A soft smile played around her lips. “How did you know you’re straight?”

The question caught Annie off guard. “I ... I just ...” She stopped and frowned. She had assumed that she was straight just like everyone else and never questioned that assumption before.
But now I do.
The lump in her throat prevented her from saying anything else.

“As a child, I felt different from all the other girls,” Drew said when Annie stayed silent, “but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was that made me so different.”

Annie gave her a sympathetic nod. She had felt like an outsider during childhood too.

“Then my friends started being interested in boys while I just couldn’t see what was so fascinating about them.” Drew grinned. “Well, besides climbing trees and playing soccer with them.”

“But not being interested in boys doesn’t automatically make you gay, does it?” Annie said. “I was a late bloomer too. In school, I got teased because I just wasn’t interested in all the things other girls liked—boys, fashion, cheerleading ...” That had been one of the most painful times in her life. No one had defended her when the other kids teased her, not even her big brother. Jake seemed to think the teasing was all in good fun. Annie took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.
It was about as much fun as having a root canal.

Drew reached over and squeezed Annie’s knee as if she could read her thoughts. “Kids can be cruel. And no, not being boy-crazy as a teenager doesn’t necessarily mean you’re gay. But when I met my first girlfriend—boom! The connection, the butterflies, the burning passion, everything that I was supposed to feel for a boy ... all of it was suddenly there—with a girl.”

Annie put her glasses back on and stared at the horizon, where the ocean met the sky. Had she ever felt a deep connection or burning passion for anyone?
No.
She had convinced herself that she was in love with her ex-boyfriend, but now—