Wingrove Estates is the winery in town where filming for this movie is taking place, and Harley owns every bit of it.
“Thank you, again.” I nod, and he walks out, closing the door quietly behind him.
Taking my shoes off, I don’t bother to look around. Instead, I walk over to the couch, and flop back with a sigh. I rest my head on the cushions behind me, and—apparently—doze off without washing the smell of my flight off me.
Chapter ten
Jenna
I startle awake.
The sound of loud rustling, conversations and laughter erupts from the foyer, causing my body to fling into an upright position.
Checking my phone, it’s nearly showtime for Olive, and I have twenty minutes to get ready and be out the door. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I scramble in a daze, leaping off the couch.
I run through my mini to-do list out loud.
“I need to shower, unpack, put on some makeup, do my hair and…shit, I don’t have time to do any of that.” I shake my head in frustration with a loud groan.
Dragging my suitcase away from the front door, I don’t bother to give myself a tour.
I’ll do it later.
Instead, I frantically rip the zip open, and rummage through my bag to find something presentable but not too over the top. I sift through bike shorts, baggy t-shirts and leggings before I find something that doesn’t look like I’ve just rolled out of bed. “Thiswill do.” I pull out a soft, lilac, summer dress with thick straps that sit over my sun kissed, freckled shoulders.
It has a cinched waist line—chosen carefully so I don’t look like I’m wearing a potato sack—and flows nicely down my legs. I don’t buy casual dresses that hug my thighs. Having them rub together, and the inevitable chafe that will follow, isn’t something I can be bothered dealing with, so I do my best to avoid it all together.
Tucking the outfit under my arm, I rip open the duffel bag that holds my shoes and find my nude sandals right at the top. Scrambling to my feet, I head for the open door across from my bedroom that I assume is the bathroom and sigh in relief when I’m right, lunging to turn the water on.
I shower the quickest I ever have, tie my hair up in a neat, loose bun, apply some mascara, and a thin layer of lip gloss, and sigh as I pat the sweat off my upper lip with bunched-up toilet paper.
Making my way into the kitchen, I sink into one of the three bar stools at the island in my kitchen, and I feel my phone vibrating in my hand. Turning the screen to face me, my best friend’s name appears on the screen.
Cassandra:Got my times wrong, oopsie.
Cassandra:She isn’t on for another hour. Be at yours in 40.
I heart react to the message to let her know that I’ve read it, place my phone face down on the kitchen countertop in front of me, and relax against the backrest of the stool.
Finally taking in my surroundings, the layout to the apartment is similar to my home back in California.
From where I sit, I can almost see everything. The L-shaped couch in front of me is a light gray, with a splash of pink and black in the form of cushions to give it some color, and a matching thin, pink throw blanket placed neatly over an armrest.
Spinning around, I take in the gray kitchen. Gray cabinets, even the gray fridge, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself. It seems Cassandra’s design input began and ended with the front door. She would never have approved of this much of the same color.
Though, there is a glass vase on the counter full of orchids, and I know she had that personal touch put there just for me.
My phone vibrates again just as I sit down on the couch after giving myself a mini tour of my apartment, and I see her name light up again.
Cassandra:We’re a little early.
Me:Coming.
Grabbing the purse I arrived with, I throw my phone inside, along with my new keys, and bank card, before closing the door behind me.
I dip through the crowd that’s still growing in the foyer, laughter continuing to erupt from every corner, and I sneak out unseen, grateful no one seems to notice their hairstylist zipping through the room.
It seems they’re having a last minute introductory party with the complimentary alcohol Harley stocked the fridges with.
