Bea is the only one who knows about my past, and my history with Cassandra. Or should I say, the history that I used to wish for?
And I guess Austin knew too.
But the moment we all moved away to go to college, I was in his rear-view mirror and forgotten about, once and for all, and he took her right along with him.
I figured that all of those feelings I once had, had finally disappeared, but now, I’m not so sure.
The universe loves to fuck with me. I know that now more than ever.
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I shove my phone back in my pocket, let out a deep breath, and make my way toward the only boardroom at Wingrove Estates to meet with our wine makers and creative marketing team for our quarterly catch up.
"Good afternoon, everyone." Pushing open the double doors, I admire the view immediately. The room overlooks the vineyard, with the town in the distance, and I never tire of seeing it.Even when I moved to Charlotte and had penthouse views, nothing could top this.
Taking a seat at the head of the table, we discuss multiple different wine flavorings for our winter launch, in time for Thanksgiving and Christmas, in five short months.
We settle on a smooth, Cabernet Merlot blend, fused with spiced fruit and blackberry characters, a lingering finish of oak.
"Have you hired someone to organize our stall at the Grangewood Carnival?" Simon, one of the marketing guys, asks, as we're all packing away our laptops and notepads.
The Grangewood Creek carnival is a yearly event, but I don’t have the time to organize the Wingrove Estates stall this year. I have too many properties in development all over the country, all that require my attention. Cassandra’s showing up looking for a job couldn’t have come at a better time.
"No, not officially. I have someone in mind. I just interviewed her, actually. If all goes well, she’ll have plenty of time to take care of everything."
All nodding, clearly pleased with my response, they rise from their seats and clear out from the room. Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I stare at her name for what feels like an hour before I suck it up and type out a text.
Me:Hey, Herring, it’s Harley. If you’re free tomorrow, would you like to meet in my office to formally discuss the position? How does 1pm sound?
Herring:Great, I’ll be there.
I tell her we’re going to discuss the position, but the job is already hers if she wants it.
I just kind of want to see her squirm in front of me.
Now that I’ve finished my meetings for the day and I’m off the clock, I call Bea, because her text response was typical—way too vague and not good enough.
"Hey, stud," she says with a chuckle, and I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me.
"Don’t'stud'me. What are you playing at?" I huff, sounding more frustrated than I intended, but she knows me well enough to know when I’m actually pissed, and right now is not one of those times.
"You always wondered what you’d do if you ever got the chance to see her again. I thought I’d let her show up on your doorstep so we could find out." She doesn’t sound apologetic in the slightest. She does, however, sound pleased with herself.
"You didn’t think to give me a heads up?" I mutter through a clenched jaw, closing my office door to make our conversation more private.
"Would you have said yes if I gave you a heads up orasked your permission?"
I must’ve been silent for too long, because she speaks again before I do.
"Exactly. But hey, Wingrove?" The seriousness in her tone flicks my frustration to concern.
"Yeah?"
"Something tells me she’s looking for a friend right now. It’s not my place to say anything, but her breakup with Austin was..." she hesitates.
"Was what?"
"Brutal," she finally says. Bea is typically a sarcastic person down to the bone. The fact that she switched from sarcasm to serious so quickly tells me everything I need to know, and it leaves me feeling more protective of Cassandra than I have of anybody in a long time.
"What did he do to her?" I sit in my chair, running my hands against my day old stubble, furious over someone I haven’t thought about in almost a decade.
