Chapter 14
A few days later, Sake handed Bill Papa’s credit card when they pulled into the gas station. Bill had been running late and hadn’t taken time out to stop for fuel before he picked her up.
“What’s this?”
“Snaps for the petro.”
Bill waved it away. “I got it. Save that for something else.”
“You always get it. You never let me pay for gas once in the past week. Only thing I’ve charged since I’ve been in Napa is Taylor’s food. I hate sponging off Papa, even for that.”
Bill directed the attendant to fill it up, then told Sake, “I can afford the gas. And I hardly think a couple bags of dog chow are going to break Xavier St. Pierre’s bank.”
“Just because Papa has money doesn’t mean I’m going to throw it away on every little thing.” Sake had a lot of respect for money. At least while she was confined here in the Valley of the Wine, she didn’t have to worry about what she was going to eat and where she’d sleep. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that her father had simply handed over his card. Was it some kind of a test? Would his disapproval come storming down on her once she reached a certain arbitrary spending limit known only to him?
Welp, he wouldn’t catch her abusing his hospitality.
“All set to switch seats? High time we got you out on the highway.”
Sake’s breath froze in her lungs. Driving in town was one thing. What with all those stop signs and red lights, she never got going fast enough to fear losing control.
“I haven’t driven on the freeway before, remember?”
“Twenty-nine hardly qualifies. The speed limit’s only forty-five along this stretch and it’s only two lanes. Nothing to get bent of shape about.
“Besides,” he added, settling back on the passenger side, “it’s a beautiful summer evening. We’ll find someplace good to eat at in St. Helena.”
He leaned forward to help her gauge the traffic. “Now’s as good a time as any.”
Sake took a deep breath and stepped on the gas.
“How do you ever get used to looking at everything at once? The road, the instrument panel, the mirrors, back to the road . . .”
“Practice. You just keep doing it, and one day, you realize you’re not even thinking about it.”
“Promise?” She laughed nervously.
“Sure. You’ll see.”
“But how do you know everyone else on the road’s gonna do what he’s supposed to do, at the same time?”
“Ah, there’s the rub. Driving is kind of like living. It takes a certain amount of faith to make it work.”
“Just one problem with that. How’re you supposed to have faith when everyone you ever knew let you down?”
“How come you ask such tough questions?” He chuckled softly. “I don’t have all the answers. All I know is what’s right for me, and that is if you stay on the straight and narrow and watch out for the other guy, you’re putting yourself in the best possible position for good things to happen. That make sense?”
“You mean, be defensive? Now you’re talking. I can do defensive.”
“Believe me. I know.” He gave her a look, but she couldn’t spare the attention to argue.
“You can pick it up a little. You’re only going forty.”
“Give me a break. I’m a little nervous here.” Nevertheless, she squeezed down harder with the ball of her foot. “Speed isn’t exactly my jam. Hard enough to do all that needs done while going slow. Don’t know how I’m expected to do it while I’m on the fly. What am I? Wonder Woman?”
“Hm. And here all this time, I thought it was your love of restaurants that kept us close to town.”
A smile sneaked out of Sake. “You know I like to eat.”
“Ditto. St. Helena’s only about fifteen miles north of here. There are restaurants up there we haven’t tried yet.”
“Fifteen miles?” All her fear came rushing back. “I got to drive fifteen miles?”
Bill felt a rush of empathy. “I know you’re uncomfortable with highway driving. But don’t you think we’ve been putting this off way too long?”
“Is that why you didn’t want Taylor to come tonight?”
“Sake. You’re going to be driving to work every day, starting Monday.”
“I know,” she admitted. “I set up my appointment for Saturday at ten.”
“Saturday,” he replied “Perfect timing to start your new job. The officer might even take you out here on the highway for your test. Get used to that idea so you don’t freak when it happens.”
“Too late.”
“You just need to build your self-confidence. Do you want me to pick you up a little early tomorrow morning? Let you drive to the test site to warm you up?”
“That’d be cool.”
“You’ll be fine. I promise. While we’re headed in this direction, I want to stop and check on my new listing while it’s still light outside. Meant to run over this afternoon, but work was crazy. Seems like all I got done today was putting out fires.”
She turned on the radio and a tune she liked filled the car.
“Watch for the sign that says El Camino.”
Why hadn’t she thought of playing music while she drove before? Gradually, she accelerated until the speedometer read fifty.
“You think they’ll let me listen to my tunes when I take my test?”
“Don’t see why not, as long as you keep it down to a reasonable volume.”
Before she knew it, they were turning off the highway onto El Camino. Then he guided her into to a shopping plaza.
“You see this? This mall is my future,” Bill said from where they idled in a far corner of the lot with a wide-angle view of the adjoining storefronts.
Sake peered out at a dry cleaner, an acute care place, an insurance agency, a wine store, and a couple of cafés.
“Looks like any other bunch of stores to me.”
“It’s fully leased, well-maintained, and has a great mix of services for the people who live in the surrounding developments. That’s what makes it so valuable.”
With his usual enthusiasm, Bill buzzed on about cost per square foot, something something, return on investment, and so on. He had no idea his face glowed in the summer sun slanting through the windshield.
To be real, there was nothing outstanding about Bill’s appearance. Medium build, dark hair, clean-shaven . . . he was more gravitas than glitz. The best words to describe Bill Diamond were solid and trustworthy.
But this evening, as he rambled on in his undecipherable real estate-ese, those late-day rays highlighted his best features: his square-cut jaw, his great skin . . . the clarity of purpose in his green eyes. Abruptly, his monologue ended and that laid-back, boyish grin of his split his cheeks, punctuated by the dimple on the right.
When had she started looking for that dimple?
“Looks like all the lessees are doing well this time of day. Parking lot’s full, customers are patronizing the cafés. That’s what I came to see.”
“Okay. But what makes it ‘your future’?”
“You remember that house we drove by the first time we met?”
“The one with the big trees and the little backyard?”
Bill nodded. “If I can sell this center, I can afford to buy that house.” There it was again, that look of wistful determination.
He turned to her. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“What are your long-term goals?”
Sake sniffed. “Been too busy figuring out what I’m doing today to worry about tomorrow.”
“Dude! There must be something you want more than anything else.”
“I’ve never even lived in the same place for more than six months. You really think I’d have long-term goals?”
“Everyone needs goals. And to reach them, you have to be proactive, not reactive. Look at your sist—”
Sake felt her face fall.
“Sorry. Not comparing.” They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment until Bill spoke up again.
“Ready to go? I’m starved. I just remembered there’s this place up in St. Helena that looks like a castle, serves great food.”
 
Bill was right—the restaurant did look like a castle. A sprawling, Gothic stone castle, complete with towers.
Peering up at it, Sake followed Bill along the walkway toward a courtyard shaded with olive trees and orange umbrellas.
A perky woman about Sake’s age wearing a pristine white shirt and black vest handed them menus. “Welcome to the Culinary Institute. I’m Chris, and I’m also a student.”
Sake had only glanced in passing at the sign out front.
“I’ve heard of this place,” blurted Sake. Papa’s words came back to her: It’s a fine school . . . and it will make you an expert in the field.
“You like to cook?” Chris fairly bubbled over with enthusiasm.
“Actually, I’m more of a baker.”
“The Institute offers an associate’s in pastry arts.” Chris leaned close and cupped the side of her mouth, letting Sake in on a secret. “We culinary majors call the bakers ‘pastry princesses.’” She straightened again. “All kidding aside, though, you ought to check it out. Its graduates are placed all over the world.”
“For me it’s just a place to get awesome grub,” said Bill, showing more interest in his menu than hearing about the cooking school.
Sake looked around, cautiously curious. “Where are the classrooms?”
“We share the same cooking facilities with the restaurants here. Before you leave, go inside and watch the chefs at work in the open kitchen, and you’ll want to check out the shop, too. It’s chock-full of everything having to do with cooking.
“Tonight we have some lovely appetizers, starting with a lovely burrata with creamy fresh mozzarella, local heirloom tomatoes, and an olive relish. If that sounds good, I’ll be right back with them.”
Watching Chris bop away, Sake told Bill, “The staff sure doesn’t dress like that back at Bunz. And if Francine acted that chipper, Teeny would accuse her of being on something.”
“Did you say you’d heard about this place?”
Sake had never been one to put her business out on Front Street. She’d never told Bill the details of her deal with Papa. All Bill knew was the date she was going back home, and that until then, she was expected to stick close by the mansion so Papa could keep an eye on her.
“Papa mentioned it. It really chaps his hide that I left school without finishing. He made me promise to get my high school equivalency before I leave here. I been working toward it online.”
“That’s an excellent idea, Sake. I’m glad to hear it.”
“But you know my father—he couldn’t just leave it at that. He wants me to go on and get my associate’s degree. Just because my sisters went to college doesn’t mean I have to. I wish he’d get that through his head.”
“Maybe he has a point. . . .” He shrugged, fingering the edge of his place mat.
Sake soaked in her surroundings. The gray stone architecture, the swaying palm trees . . . the sweet scent of magnolias and the mellow strains of guitar music. The idea of actually studying baking here, in this place—assuming she could get in, which wasn’t likely . . . she couldn’t even.
But then the server was back with the breadbasket and the starters and all thoughts of college were forgotten, as she sat outside in the sultry summer evening next to Bill Diamond.
Bill wasn’t the kind of guy whose face stopped traffic, like Rico, but he took care always to be neatly pulled together. Bill Diamond was a decent, respected man. A man of integrity. Plus, he smelled like dark woods and warm spices, a deeply sensuous smell that made Sake want to curl herself around him.
Did Bill notice details about her, too? Or to him, were all of their dinners out over the past weeks nothing more than an extension of driving lessons? She thought back, looking for signs that he thought of her as anything more than a poor little rich girl who needed his help. He never would’ve kissed her that day in the alley if she hadn’t totally wigged out. All he’d meant to do was calm her down.
Still, when Bill’s shoulder lightly bumped into hers when they finally left the cooking shop for the car, she wanted more than anything to believe he’d done it on purpose.
“It got dark,” Sake said with a start.
“You didn’t notice while we were eating?”
She’d been too busy noticing how round the shoulder muscles inside his shirt were from working out at the gym. The way he always held her chair for her and spoke with kindness and confidence to everyone, lowliest server to wine mogul.
But now that she had to drive back—in the dark—all the usual fears sprang to life. Then a brand-new, irrational one joined the others. What if a coyote runs out in front of the car?
No sooner had Sake pulled out onto the main road, than Bill’s Bluetooth rang, cutting off her music.
“When will he be back?” asked Bill, suddenly all business. He reached around to snag his briefcase out of the back and began rummaging blindly through it.
Without the music, Sake’s heartbeat ratcheted up again. This was the first time Bill had taken a call while she was driving. He knew she was even less sure of herself driving in the dark. Shouldn’t he be keeping an eye on her?
“After Labor Day?” He switched on the interior light to study an important-looking paper. Shit, he mouthed emphatically, brows knit together in a frown.
Whoa. Salty language, for Bill. That scowl on his face was worrisome. He was usually so in command.
He stuffed the paper back into his case and shut off the light.
“Who’s handling his business while he’s gone?”
Sake couldn’t resist another glance his way, to see if that look was still there, in the dashboard light.
“Yeah, I’ve tried, but he’s hard to get hold of too. Hold on—”
Bill jerked his head toward her, muffling the phone in his shoulder. “Watch where you’re going.”
Startled, Sake stiff-armed the car back into her lane. But she must have overcompensated because—oh, no—from out of nowhere, a car rushing by on her left blared out an angry warning.
Her heart started pounding. She tried not to look Bill’s way again. But the glare of headlights that seemed to be coming straight toward her was blinding.
In her side vision she saw Bill pinch the bridge of his nose and try to refocus on his call. “Is he taking messages while he’s away?”
She could hear the measured restraint in his voice.
“Next time you talk to him, I’d appreciate you filling him in. It’s a primo location. I know he’d be interested.”
When the call was over, he turned to Sake. “Dude! How many times do I have to tell you? This car is my life! Nothing can happen to it! When you’re driving, the only thing you should be looking at is the road. Not me. Nothing else but the road!”
Everything—keeping a fast car on an unfamiliar road in the dark while remembering all the things he’d taught her, the possibility of wandering coyotes, the sheer terror of damaging the car of the man whose opinion she valued, and now, getting yelled at by said man—rushed together to incite a panic attack.
Blood roared in her ears. How much farther? Cars started passing her.
“Why are you slowing down? You have to go with the flow of traffic! Otherwise you become a hazard.”
He was obviously still irritated, and though it might not be all because of her, he sure made her feel that way.
But she’d deal with Bill later. Sometimes you just had to stop the bleeding, and this was one of those times. Right now it was going to take everything she had to get them back to Napa alive—and intact.
God, she hated to drive. She would never pass the test for her Ls. That meant she couldn’t take the job at Mon Rêve. Couldn’t take any job up here in the outback, where everything was spread out all over creation and they didn’t have the most basic modern conveniences to help you to get from A to B.
Tense silence blanketed the car’s interior. The twenty minutes it took to get back to Dry Creek Road seemed like twenty years.
“Sorry I got so bent out of shape,” sighed Bill when Sake finally turned into Domain St. Pierre.
He was bent out of shape? The moment she braked, she pounced. “Hear this, Bill Diamond. You best save Mr. Bossy for the office. The last man who talked down to me got himself mollywhopped and I ended up in the gray bar motel. So get off my bumper, like now.”
“I said I was sorry,” he said, miserably. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of this guy I want to sell the strip mall to for weeks, but he’s been tied up back east. Now they’re telling me he just left for vacation—”
“You think that’s all you have to do is say ‘I’m sorry’ and it’s all gravy? That’s like trying to drink from a fire hose.”
She swung open her door and stamped one booted foot on the ground.
“Sake—wait. There’s something I have to tell you.”
Oh, God. Sake braced herself. Here it comes.
“I’m sorry to be telling you this now when you’re already so upset, but I was planning on telling you tonight anyway because it’s the right thing to do. I have no problem keeping Taylor for you and teaching you to drive. But that’s it. I’m not interested in anything more serious.”
“You think I’m interested in you? Don’t be giving yourself props where they’re not deserved.”
“Good. I hope you won’t take it personally.”
Then how was she supposed to take it? He was done with her. She was too much of a hassle. His life had been so much simpler—so much better—before she’d crashed into it.
“It’s just that I’m a lot older than you. We’re in different places in our lives, you know? You’re just starting out, and I’m, well, thinking about settling down. And now, for the first time, with this listing . . . it’s within the realm of possibility.”
“You’re not that old. Not with that baby face.” Okay, no, that was a lie. He didn’t have a baby face. He had a sweet, lovable face. But she wasn’t exactly in the mood to dole out compliments.
“I’m no macho man. You think I don’t know that? It doesn’t matter. It’s more of a stage than an actual age I’m talking about.”
And to think she’d begun to feel something for him! She was such a loser.
“I just wanted to make it perfectly clear that you’re not the only woman I’ve been, er, going out with, before things went any further.”
“Understand this, Bill Diamond,” Sake lashed back without missing a beat. “You’re putting way too much on this. I don’t care who you go out with—tonight, tomorrow night, or any night, you get me?” She braced her left hand on the seat to hoist herself out.
Bill reached for her forearm. “Sake, stop. Wait. You’re a beautiful young woman, but you’re just starting out. You’re going to go through a lot of guys before you’re ready to settle down.”
Sake huffed. “I’ve done fine till now without your advice. I’ll figure out how to get my dog back tomorrow.” She got out and slammed the door.
“Sake, wait! Du—”
She whirled around, pointing a threatening finger. “Say ‘dude’ again. One more time!” she dared him. And then, at his silence, she spun away and marched off toward the house.
Bill called to her from over the roof of the car.
“What about your driver’s test?”
“Game over,” she yelled without bothering to turn around. “I’m not taking no test. I’m going back to civilization, where they got decent public transportation.”
Where she didn’t need Bill Diamond.