Somebody Like You (Starlight Hill Series Book 2) (9 page)

Due to her great housekeeping skills, thank you very much. She’d learned how to make much of small spaces. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“My family.”

“What about them?” She took a few steps away from him, and all those sexy male pheromones.

“Look, let’s get this straight. I understand that my family can be loud and intrusive. But they mean well. You have to get along with them. If you’re going to work here.”

Crud. Billy was laying down the law, but a strange thing happened. Rather than piss her off it started to turn her on. His jaw was tight as though the words cut.

She jammed her hands on her hips. “
If
I’m going to work here?” No way could he take this away from her now. She’d quit before she’d let him fire her. “Billy, you told me I could have control!”

“You do have control. Just make her feel like she’s got some, too. Even if she doesn’t. Got it?”

“Do you want me to make this venture a success or not?”

“You know I do. But it’s a family business first.”

One in which a non-family member had the control, mostly because she was the only one who knew what she was doing. “Do you still want me here?”

“You know I do, and I think I’ve made that clear enough. But this is a family business and everybody has a place in it. My family means everything to me.”

Brooke’s breath caught. “I thought baseball meant everything to you.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “You have a lot of stereotypes about jocks, and you need to get over them. Maybe you don’t know me at all.”

“All right, I’m sorry.” This was new, backing down.

But the look on Billy’s face was all badass and protective and she found herself wishing she was a part of his family. If she had been, she’d bet that George would be regretting the way he’d passed her over for that promotion. Or rather the way he’d dangled it in front of her like some carrot, so she might consider marriage to a narcissist.

“Why can’t you handle her? It’s hard for me to believe that a hell raiser like you can’t handle a middle aged woman.”

“Oh please all that hair raising is greatly exaggerated. Just because I drive a Harley and jumped off the Merlot Bridge on a dare.”

“And skydive. Yeah. I know about that. You don’t seem to be afraid of anything.”

Oh but she was, only she wouldn’t let him know about it. It was a small phobia, and she now had it under control. Mostly. “Fine. Here’s the thing. I don’t want Eileen to hate me if I’m too honest with her. I don’t like family conflict, so I just stay out of it.”

“Deal with her like you would with your own Mom.”

“I can’t even handle my mother. Mostly I ignore her.”

Billy continued to stare, like he was trying to decide if he could believe her. “Bummer.”

Well. Why did he care? “Sorry, not everybody can have your perfect family.”

“Perfect? We are talking about my mom, right? And Scott? Let’s not even start with Pop, who put a prizewinning tip in an old cereal box he now can’t find.” Billy cracked a smile.

That stupid grin made Brooke’s special parts start to tingle. “Don’t try to act like you don’t realize your mom could easily win Mother of the Year.”

“Once upon a time, sure. Okay. If I’m being honest here, I do have a hidden agenda. You deserve the truth.”

They were still standing near her striped blue and white couch in the middle of the small room, and Brooke found that she backed up a few more steps. A man, being honest. Would wonders never cease? “I’m listening.”

“Well, you can bring your eyebrows back down to your forehead. It’s not that shocking. Not in today’s day and age.”

What kind of bombshell was he about to drop on her? Who was gay or needed a transgender operation? “It’s okay.” She tried to sound reassuring.

He shook his head slowly. “No, it isn’t. My mother has been introduced to Internet dating.”

“Is that all?” The whoosh of relief fell out of Brooke so audibly she worried about what Billy might think.  “You made it sound so serious.”

“You might think it’s not a big deal, but my brothers and I aren’t happy about this. There are a lot of creeps out there. Unfortunately, I know some of them. And I sure in the hell don’t want my mother dating them.”

“Of course you don’t. So you want to distract your mother with the winery? Is that it?”

“You’re catching on. Wallace thought she could help with the menu. Except I’d hoped she’d leave her new health kick off the menu. She tried to serve me tofu roast for dinner.”

Brooke winced. “Tofu and roast don’t belong in the same …”

“Sentence,” Billy said with her.

For a moment Brooke only stared at the man. She wished her boss didn’t have to be so sexy, and also finish her sentences. “Thanks for telling me. Now I can think of ways she can help around here, without re-inventing the entire winery experience.”

“I want her to feel needed. Relevant. That’s all she probably needs, anyway.”

“Sure. Of course.”

“Pretty sure every mother needs that. Right?” He grinned.

“Right.” She thought about Mom, and the farm. All that shampoo Mom made that she simply wanted Brooke to use and enjoy. So what if she already had enough to last her a lifetime? 

Billy was a good son, and Brooke was such a bad daughter.

Brooke spent the rest of the afternoon with Eileen, listening to her suggestions and nodding. Writing notes as if she would actually consider serving lemon grass as an appetizer. Please.

The point was, she and Eileen were both women. And Brooke knew a little secret about women. No matter the age, they wanted to be cherished. And Eileen had probably not been cherished in a long, long while. Brooke knew the feeling.

She had a plan, but Billy didn’t need to know the details. The last thing he’d want to hear about was the fact that his mother needed a love life. Brooke certainly hoped she’d still be making love in her fifties. Weren’t those supposed to be the golden years? The problem was Eileen had gone about it the wrong way, probably because she didn’t know how to meet a good man.

When Eileen had finished with her rhapsody on the health benefits of Kamboosha, a drink she thought should be added to the wine list, Brooke set the notebook down on the counter top. “Well. That’s truly enlightening. Thanks for sharing. I have so much to think about.”

Faking got a bit easier. Kind of like a first date with a man when Brooke would pick at her dinner, and talk about how there was really nothing like a home cooked meal.

“I’ll start taste testing more recipes in my kitchen. Pop will be my guinea pig and then when they’re perfected, I’d be happy to bring them over for you to taste.”

“Great. How long will that take you?” Brooke found the plastic wrap and began to help cover all the samples Eileen had brought.

“I don’t have much else to do these days, so it shouldn’t take long at all.”

“Take your time. So…now that we’re done here, Billy mentioned something about Internet dating?” Brooke coughed.

“Oh Lord, he told you that? I’m not going to anymore. It’s hard to do with all the new words and abbreviations. I don’t have time to learn all that. If I were going to learn another language, it would be Italian. Oh, how I’d love to go to Italy someday. You see, my ex-husband was German and he hated Italians. Did I tell you that? It’s my side of the family that’s Scottish, and we’ve always loved the Italians …”

Brooke let Eileen ramble, while the idea cooked and formed. She’d fix Eileen up on a date. That’s what Brooke would do to help. Help and distract, which was what Billy wanted anyway. He just didn’t understand that the kind of distraction Eileen needed wouldn’t come from tofu or planning meals. It had to come from a man. Of course, not just any man.

No, she was with Billy on that one. She’d check the guy out first. After she found him, that is. Make sure he wasn’t an ax murderer. And also that he didn’t need Viagra, although what was the harm if he did? That pill had been invented for a reason, hadn’t it?

Brooke steered the conversation back from Scotland and bagpipes and Eileen’s sonofabitch ex-husband who wouldn’t even pay for Billy’s Little League. “I’m sure I could fix you up with someone. You don’t need to go through the Internet to date. You’re a beautiful woman.”

Eileen Turlock blushed. “Thank you. But it’s so hard to find men my age.”

“Well, why does he have to be your age?” Brooke winked.

“You think I should go out with someone older?” Eileen seemed to consider it. “There are even less of them.”

“How about someone younger?”

Now Eileen clasped a hand over her mouth, then slowly brought it down. “Younger? How young?”

“Have you ever heard the term ‘cougar’?”

Once Brooke had explained that she didn’t mean for Eileen to go out with anyone her sons’ ages, but someone in the forty-something club, she had actually considered the idea. Brooke promised she’d get back to Eileen, probably even before she was done with the taste testing. They parted, and Eileen had a little spring in her step that Brooke didn’t think she’d imagined.

Now Brooke not only needed to start dating, but she would need to find a suitable companion for Eileen. Someone that Billy and his brothers wouldn’t reject. It might take a while.

Night had fallen at the vineyard, one of her favorite times of the day. The evenings were getting colder now. Even if the days were warm and sunlit, nightfall had a way of reminding every northern Californian of the proper season. But even from inside, the wide-paned window offered a breathtaking view of the evening, hundreds of stars twinkling in the inky black sky.

She never knew, and tried hard not to think about, what Billy did every night in the manor house. Sometimes he did get in late, occasionally with Scott or Wallace in tow, but usually alone. She realized this because from time to time she spied on him. Hard not to do since their houses practically faced each other. Tonight, she saw the light on and realized her sexy neighbor-slash-friend-slash-boss was home.

What’s more, he wasn’t alone tonight. There seemed to be several people over, all of them men. She heard an occasional shout, and quickly determined they must be watching a sports game.

Brooke took a shower, dressed in her sweats, put her damp hair in a ponytail and popped her dinner into the microwave. Tonight she’d be paring her Lien Cuisine with a chilled bottle of Guglielmo Chardonnay. No matter how horrible the meal, it could be saved with a good vintage.

She’d just pried the cork off and poured it into a glass to smell its properties when someone knocked at her door. That wasn’t Billy’s knock. By now, she could tell. His was always rather forceful and strong. This was more like a tap at her door. A rap-a-tat-tat.

Brooke glanced out the wink window to see Ivey, holding a box from Mama’s. She jutted her chin in the direction of the main house. “Is there a stud convention in town?”

Brooke waved her friend in, and stared longingly at the box in her hands. “Some kind of sports event on TV I’m guessing. Must be all of Billy’s friends.”

“That’s right. It’s the Pennant and the Giants are playing.”

“Now how do you know that?”

“I have a husband,” Ivey said, plopping the treats on the coffee table. “Were you going to tell me that you had a concussion?”

“It was nothing. An entire week ago, and I’m fine. Are those Knock You Naked Brownies from Em’s?”

Ivey’s favorite dish, and Brooke had become a convert the first time she tasted the yummy chocolate caramel concoction. Brooke brought out some paper plates. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d eaten dessert first.

“It’s been a while, but I’ve done concussion duty with you before. Why didn’t you call me?” Ivey asked as she set the box down on the small kitchen counter.

“I didn’t need to,” Brooke said, reaching for a piece of chocolate heaven. “Billy took me home and he stayed with me all night.”

Ivey’s blue eyes widened. “Billy stayed with you all night?”

“Take it easy. It’s not what you think. Nothing happened.” Like she would make that mistake again. Usually it took her at least a few months to forget about a mistake so that she might actually repeat it again.

“That’s too bad.” Ivey frowned. “Although, this gives new meaning to the phrase ‘I have a headache’. You really did. Didn’t you? Have a headache?”

“I didn’t have to refuse him. He was a perfect gentleman.” Other than the suggestions he’d made about the shower the next morning. But he hadn’t acted on any of it because he’d probably had second thoughts. So had she. They couldn’t start fooling around and stay professional. She’d already been to that movie. Spoiler alert: don’t sleep with your boss.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ivey took a brownie out of the box.

“Even if I were ready for a relationship, which I’m not, I couldn’t have one with Billy. We work together. Do I need to remind you of my last disaster?”

“Well, that was George. But lots of couples make it work. Jeff and I work together at the hospital.”

“But he’s not your boss. Stop comparing us. You and Jeff were high school sweethearts, written in the stars and all that crap.”

“Don’t get all romantic and gushy on me now.” Ivey rolled her eyes.

Brooke thought about Billy during high school. Lean, athletic Billy dated a lot. Fallon had been his last girlfriend before he’d graduated and headed off to the Minor League. He’d chosen Fallon, the head cheerleader, because she’d been part of that world. Not Brooke.

“He’s not my type. Jocks were never my type. Not in high school, and not now.”

“Maybe it’s time you reconsidered your type. This isn’t high school anymore. You’re both older now, and wiser.”

“Exactly.” Brooke leveled a significant look in Ivey’s direction. “We have a good grasp of consequences.”

“All right, so you’re not going to have a love affair with your sexy, handsome, wealthy boss.”

“But I am going to start dating again.”

Ivey’s eyes brightened, but before she could say another word Brooke held up a hand to stop her. “And I don’t need you to fix me up.”

“Suit yourself. I was going to suggest Noah, a male nurse I’ve worked with before. He’s thirty-something, smart and cute.”

“A male nurse?” Brooke didn’t like the sound of that. Crap, listen to her judgmental self. What the hell had happened to her?

Ivey raised an eyebrow. “Men in the health profession have a good grasp of anatomy. Including a woman’s anatomy. Hear me?”

“Hmmmm,” Brooke said. “He does sound … intriguing.”

“Hey, have you heard anything from Camp Serrano, or George? Anything at all? Does he know you’re working for Billy?”

Brooke shrugged. If he did, and she could hope so, no doubt he’d be worried. Worried she’d make Mirassu his worst nightmare. His biggest competition. She found that she warmed at the idea. 

“When’s the big day for the Grand Opening?” Ivey asked.

“Billy and I agreed to the fifth of December because we could coincide with the town parade.” It wasn’t a typical opening date, and that’s what she liked about it most.

“That’s brave of you,” Ivey said. “Seeing your aversion to the holidays.”

“I’m going to assume the holidays are good to Billy, as everything else is in his life. And I figure I have to get through them one way or another, so I might as well be busy.”

“And maybe this year it will be different. You’ll have a great opening day and all that success will forever change your attitude about Christmas-time.”

“Meh. I doubt it.” Maybe if her parents hadn’t chosen the day after Thanksgiving to have a fight so huge they‘d literally forgotten her in a restaurant. And maybe if every year after that there hadn’t been something awful happen. “Something always happens.”

Ivey sighed. “Look, your cat was old. Ancient.”

“Christmas Day, Ivey. He died on Christmas Day.” Harley had been sick for weeks, then suddenly rallied only to give up the ghost on Christmas.
Merry Christmas, Brooke. Your cat is dead.

“What happened during the holidays last year?” Ivey asked.

“I broke a tooth on Mrs. Deering’s peanut butter brittle a few days after Thanksgiving.” Brooke inspected the brownie she held. Come to think of it, there were nuts in here too.

“There are all coincidences.”

“Right.” Brooke rolled her eyes.

“I hate that you’re such a Grinch.” Ivey stuck her tongue out.

“I’m getting better at faking it.” It was true. Almost no one other than her closest friends knew of her hatred for The Holidays. And maybe it was best to keep it that way.

*****

Brooke couldn’t recall ever being this nervous. In the next twenty minutes, she and Billy had one of several meetings set up with a couple of the more respectable restaurants in town. But Billy was late. She’d told him to let her know when he arrived and they’d leave together.

He’d was supposed to be here after a meeting with his old high school baseball coach, a man he’d been spending way too much time with. Just as she’d suspected, Billy’s heart was still on the baseball diamond. Once a jock, always a jock. But now he was a vintner, or at least said he was. Pop was counting on him, and so was she. He needed to be the new face of Mirassu.

Brooke picked up her phone and texted Billy a pithy clipped message:
You’re late.

Within seconds she had her reply:
Two seconds.

Brooke took one last glance in the mirror. Not much time to primp now.

Why did it feel like a date, when it was no such thing? That would come later tonight, when she’d agreed to give Ted another chance. It hadn’t been his fault that Billy had swooped in with an all-cash deal, and now she saw it more clearly with the benefit of time. So tonight she’d be having dinner with Ted at Chateau La Salle.

If any nasty rumors had spread regarding a mini breakdown she’d had at Serrano’s, she’d put those to rest. The truth was that she had no idea what kind of reception waited for her. In a town like Starlight Hill, the gossip flowed as freely as the wine, and she was certain she’d been part of some of the mill since her rather unfortunate goodbye speech.

She heard a knock at her door and opened it to find Billy, his long hair falling around his neck line, dressed in slacks and a black blazer. He filled the doorway with his large frame and his equally big grin.

“Where were you?” Brooke grabbed her purse, stepped outside, and shut the door behind her.

“I told you. I was with Coach and we—”

She interrupted him. “I thought you were a vintner now.”

“You know I am. Anyway, he just needed some advice.” They walked to the top of the driveway where they had small access parking for employees. Her Harley sat in the back, covered.

He opened the door to his convertible for her, making her feel for a second like they were on a real date.

“You know, people are going to try and take advantage of your experience and your knowledge.” Brooke clipped on her seatbelt as he turned on the car.

Billy rolled down the driveway and glanced sideways at Brooke. “Don’t look now, but you’re starting to sound a little like Gigi.”

“That’s just plain mean. I’m only worried about the time you spend away from the vineyard. It might give people the wrong impression.”

“Right,” he said, making a turn onto Hummingbird Lane. “And Gigi is worried I’ll dilute my so-called star power by hanging with the local high school coach.”

“See, those are two different things,” Brooke said and ignored Billy’s scowl. “Our first stop today is with Giancarlo. He takes pride in his extensive wine list, and we need for Mirassu to be on it.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, listen up. Giancarlo is a widower with four daughters. Sophia is the youngest and sometimes she waitresses for him.” She went on reciting facts about Giancarlo. Everything she knew personally, and then some. Was there anything more flattering than a celebrity who considered one to be important? 

Sure, she would go ahead and use Billy’s fame to their advantage. Not to do so would be stupid.

Giancarlo greeted them in the bar area of the restaurant. “If it isn’t Billy Turlock. So pleased to meet you. Brooke, I haven’t seen you for a while. How’ve you been?”

Introductions were made all around as Giancarlo led them to a table nearby. Giancarlo  talked about the World Series.

“I’ve got old friends on the team, so of course I favor the Giants,” Billy said, “But with a catcher like …”

Brooke tuned him out, focusing instead on his quiet confidence. Finally the conversation turned to her.

“So no longer with Serrano?” Giancarlo asked Brooke.

“We had a parting of the ways.”

“His fiancée was in here not long ago, and she doesn’t know a grape from a pea.” Giancarlo scowled.

“Would that be Chelsea?” Poor girl would be so far out of her comfort zone she might as well be flying a spaceship to the moon.

“Yes, that’s her. Anyway their wine pretty much sells itself. Can you arrange a wine tasting for us here? We haven’t carried Mirassu wines in a while. Naturally, we’ll order several cases.”

Naturally.

“I just want to know what kind of pairings I can suggest.” Giancarlo finished with a gentle smile.

She’d always been fond of him. A fairly young widower in his late forties, he’d been like a father to Brooke. He’d once strongly implied that he had connections to other wineries in the area, in case she ever wanted to move on from Serrano. She hadn’t remembered that until now.

On the way to their last meeting, Billy turned to smile at Brooke. “So glad you’re on my team, Brooke Miller.”

“Ditto. You have a way of making everyone relax and remember that we’re all Americans. And we all love baseball.”

“Well, not everyone.”