He wasn’t exactly getting that tonight, but at least right now she was being casual with him, relaxed. She was laughing in that way she’d laughed at the bar, and not the more cheerful, less sexy laugh she gave customers.
“You weren’t totally wrong about that,” she said. “Some of them are definitely snooty. Especially the big, very expensive ones. Most of us, though, are just small businesses, where our product happens to be something people imbue with all of those elite markers. I’m happy to do it sometimes, too, when it gets Noble where I want us to be, but I do have to remember most of it is bullshit. People have been drinking wine since the beginning of time! Literally! It’s great, don’t get me wrong—I love wine and I love our winery. But still.”
The car stopped with a jerk, and Luke looked away from Margot for the first time since they’d gotten in the car.
“Oh,” he said. “We’re at my place.”
She looked out the window, too.
“So we are.” She didn’t sound embarrassed at that—was he glad about that? He wasn’t sure. She didn’t sound anything. He wished she’d sounded something.
He opened his door.
“Well, good night, Margot. See you tomorrow.”
Did she remember that this time last week, they were sitting next to each other at the bar, her leg pressed snugly against his, just hours from that kiss outside, and then that electric walk back to his place, and then . . .
“Good night, Luke,” she said quietly.
The car drove away as soon as he got out. He stared after it for a few seconds before he sighed and went inside.
Seven
“YOU DROVE HOME ALONE with him?!” Sydney said. “Was that really the smartest thing to do?”
Margot took a sip of her martini and sighed.
“No, of course it wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” she said. “But I’d left it to Taylor to organize getting the cars to take everyone home, and I forgot—or, maybe, didn’t even realize—that we were the only two people who live in Napa. And by the time I realized it, it was too late. What was I supposed to do, say ‘Oh, guys, I can’t be alone in a car with Luke—exactly a week ago, I slept with him, you see, and I’m still wildly attracted to him, no matter how much I try not to be, and I’m afraid I might jump him in the back seat of this car’？”
“Well, at least you didn’t jump him in the back seat of the car.” Sydney grinned as she picked up her negroni.
Margot looked around. It was Monday night, Sydney’s night off, and they’d gone to a restaurant they both liked, up in St. Helena. They were sitting along the wall, by the window, with no one around them. She was sure they would run into someone they knew there; they always did. But at least no one could overhear them for now.
“Yes, thank God for that. But . . . honestly, it was almost as bad, Syd. Okay, no, obviously not anywhere near just as bad, but like, we talked the whole way home. We lost track of time, talking. Like we did at the bar that night, but even more so, because now we know each other better. It was . . . bad. I need to make sure I’m never in a car alone with him again.”
Sydney raised an eyebrow. “You just . . . talked? That’s what was so bad?”
“Yes!” Margot realized, by a few turned heads, that she was just slightly too vehement. She lowered her voice. “Sydney. I like him. That’s dangerous. I’d forgotten that part. I’d just remembered the sex, and how great it was, and how much fun we had, but like, I’ve had great sex before. I figured I’d make myself find someone else to sleep with, get him out of my system, and everything between us would be no big deal. But I forgot that part of the reason—probably, the whole reason—I went home with him in the first place was because I liked him. And the more time I spend with him, the more I like him. It sucks!”
“Well . . . you could still fire him, so you can go out with him?” Margot rolled her eyes, and Sydney laughed. “Kidding. You could hope he quits?”
Margot sighed.
“He will eventually, of course—he’s only in Napa Valley for a few months, he told me so at the bar that night. But that means that when he quits it will be because he’s leaving town, so that doesn’t really advance my cause.” She took another sip of her drink. “I don’t even know why I’m talking like this—it’s not like the two of us would eventually ever really date. He’s far too young for me, first of all. This is just a very unfortunate crush I have on someone who happens to be one of my employees. Like all crushes, I’m sure it’ll go away as soon as I find out more about him. He’s probably a jerk to waiters or a troll to women online, or tells women he likes them better without makeup, or something.”