“Okay.”
“If you want, I can give you some lessons in charm on the drive.”
She rolled her eyes and hopped up into the front seat. “Wow. It is nice and warm.”
“See? Now relax. Everything is gonna be great.” I shut the door, hustled around to the driver’s side, and we headed out.
Abelard Vineyards was located mid-way up Old Mission Peninsula, a narrow, eighteen-mile strip of land jutting into Grand Traverse Bay. Its gently rolling hills and surrounding waters not only gave it gorgeous views, but a microclimate that was particularly suited for growing grapes and other fruit. We passed several other wineries and farms on the twenty-minute drive to Traverse City, as well as some luxury vacation homes. Ellie seemed distracted by the scenery for a while, but the moment I exited the highway, she snapped to attention.
“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing around. “This isn’t the way.”
“I have to stop by my apartment real quick.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to show up in jeans, okay?” I turned into my complex.
“Why didn’t you do this sooner?”
“Two minutes, and we’ll be on the road again. Promise.”
She remained silent as I pulled into a spot in front of my building, arms folded over her chest.
“Do you want to come in?” I asked, unbuckling my seatbelt.
“No.”
“I’ll leave the car on so you have heat.” I opened the door and started to get out.
“Wait, I’ll come in,” she said, opening her door too. “I forgot to go to the bathroom at Abelard, and it’s a long drive.”
“Okay.” I shut off the engine and grabbed the key fob, locking the doors behind us.
Ellie followed me into my apartment and looked around. It wasn’t a big place—one bedroom, one bath, small living room and kitchen right behind it—but it was enough room for me.
“Kinda sparse,” she said, taking in my couch, coffee table, and lamp, which was really the only furniture I had.
“Yeah, it’s just a few things my parents gave me from their house. I didn’t know how long I was going to be here, so I didn’t want to buy too much.” After ditching my boots, I went around the corner into my bedroom, gesturing to a door off the hall. “Bathroom is right there.”
“Thanks.”
Inside my room, I took off my coat, lifted my sweater over my head, and tossed it onto my unmade bed. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I traded my jeans for a pair of dress pants and yanked a clean white shirt from a hanger. After buttoning up and tucking in, I zipped up my pants and grabbed a nicer belt.
From the back of my closet, I snagged a small duffel bag and tossed in a good pair of shoes. On impulse, I grabbed a clean pair of underwear, some deodorant, and an extra pair of socks—just in case. I tossed it all in the bag, and at the last second, decided to throw in my jeans and sweater too.
I turned off the light and opened the bedroom door at the same time Ellie came out of the bathroom. We stood chest to chest for an awkward moment—or maybe more like face to chest. She’d taken her boots off at the door too, and in her socks she was a solid eight inches shorter than me. I glanced down at her feet and started to laugh.
“What’s funny?” she demanded.
“Your socks.” They were bright aqua blue with strawberries and some kind of small animals on them. “Are those beavers?”
“Hedgehogs.” She covered one foot with the other. “These are my lucky socks, okay? My dad got them for me. I love hedgehogs.”
“Okay.”
“What’s in the bag?” she asked, pointing at my duffel.
“Whips. Chains. My gimp suit.” I shrugged. “If the party gets fun, I want to be prepared.”
She exhaled, her eyes closing.
“Relax, it’s just my dress shoes. A change of clothes.”
“Why do you need a change of clothes?”
“My mom taught me to be prepared.” I sidestepped her, dropping my bag in the hall and moving into the bathroom. “Didn’t yours?”
She stood behind me, watching as I checked my reflection in the mirror over the sink. “Um, only every single day of my life. I was the only kid in elementary school that had a spare raincoat, umbrella, hat, mittens, and scarf in her locker at all times.”
“I think I stole an umbrella from your locker once.”
“You did. It had hedgehogs on it, and it was adorable. You whacked it against the flagpole, and it got all bent out of shape.”