“Well, yes. Duh. Everything else in this town is barely edible. We should ask the owner if she’ll open up a location in LA.”
I say nothing about his uppity attitude. It’s just the way Calvin is. And I’m grateful to have him here with me, especially considering I’ve been shit company.
Calvin finishes his glass of wine, I store mine in the fridge, and we leave for The Orchard.
* * *
Jo is behind the bar,and when she sees me, she smiles and comes out to give me a hug. I’m taken aback by the show of friendship, and I lean into her embrace. Despite the sex scene I shot with Calvin earlier today, I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve felt human touch. Libby’s kisses are sweet, but they don’t count.
Jo nods at Calvin and walks back behind the bar. “What can I get for you?”
Calvin orders a cabernet. I ask for sauvignon blanc.
“This one is my favorite,” she says as she pours my white wine. “It’s from a vineyard about an hour east of here.”
I thank her and take a drink. Crisp. Cold. Perfect.
Two people settle in at the end of the bar, and Jo goes to help them.
“She’s pretty,” Calvin comments. His face is upturned as he takes a drink, but his eyes are on her.
“Beautiful,” I correct. “Those cheekbones. No contouring happening on that face.”
My wine is half empty when Jo makes it back over to us. She balances two empty water glasses in one hand and uses the other hand to fill the glasses with ice from an unseen station below the bar top.
“How’s it going out at the HCC?” She fills the glasses with water and slides one to each of us.
I grab it and take a sip, buying myself a few more seconds. I wish I had something better to tell her.
“I’ve moved back into the place the studio rented for me.” I nod my head at Calvin. “He’s staying with me.”
Jo nods her head once, slowly, scrutinizing me. I can tell she sees past my casual tone of voice.
She doesn’t press for details about Warner, which I appreciate. Leaning her forearms on the bar, she says, “The Haydens are a tough bunch to pin down. They’re modern cowboys with an Old West attitude. Makes for some interesting experiences.” She doesn’t elaborate, and I get the feeling she has some stories to tell.
Starting with Anna. I’m dying to hear about her, even if it no longer matters. Warner wouldn’t talk about her, I didn’t feel right pressing him, but my curious nature is berating me for never finding anything out.
I sip my wine, affecting a relaxed posture, and ask, “Jo, did you see the piece on Warner’s ex-wife?”
Her hazel eyes narrow. It’s like she has an uncanny ability to detect bullshit. “Anna?”
I nod.
“I saw it. I thought it was uncouth of that… reporter? Journalist? Can you even call him that?”
I shrug. I’ve never given much thought to the title. I just know they can make you glow, or they can stain your image, all with a few words.
Jo’s irritation with the articles subsides, and her demeanor softens. “He went after one of our own,” she explains. Her eyes flicker to Calvin. He’s being abnormally quiet, to the point I almost forget he’s here.
“Go on.” He flicks his hand toward us and pulls out his phone. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here playing poker.”
I look back to Jo. “Warner never told me much about her, and that article took me by surprise.”
She crosses her arms in front of her and leans a hip against something unseen under the bar. “Are you asking if he abandoned Anna at a treatment facility?”
I shake my head adamantly. It’s not even a question. “Warner would never do something like that. It’s more… general confusion on my part. I don’t understand what happened with Anna.”
“I’m almost as clueless as you. All I know is that Warner and Anna were the golden couple, high school sweethearts, blah blah blah, and then Anna slowly started fading away. Fewer and fewer town activities, I didn’t see her at school events—” Jo pauses to refill my water. “I have a much younger little brother who’s about Peyton’s age, so I’d seen the family around for a long time by then. The family of four seemed like they went to a family of three, and then I heard Anna left town.”
