“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice neutral.
“You know. Taking the assistant to New York City where none of us can keep tabs on the two of you. Where you’re free to walk around and hold hands, kiss her on the street, and f**k her all night in a hotel room. Smart move, man. Smart. Move.” Gage laughs.
I ignore him, digging into my hamburger with gusto. I’m freaking starving, I’ve been so busy with work for the last three days: hardly taking a break, skipping lunches, staying late. Gage had been giving me endless shit, calling me the last two days saying he wanted to meet for lunch. Finally, after harassing me all morning with nonstop texts, I gave in, telling Bryn I’d be back in an hour and that if I didn’t show up at the office by one-thirty, she needed to buzz me and get my ass back there.
When I’m with either Archer or Gage, we usually start talking about all sorts of crap and lose track of time, especially if there are beers involved.
Today, there aren’t. I made sure of that.
“Does Archer know you’re taking her to New York? I assume he does. I only found out because Marina told me after she spoke with Bryn yesterday. Like you’d ever tell us.” Gage laughs some more. “I guarantee at the end of the forty-five days I’m going to find a way out of making this payment to you. Watch me. Why should we pay you when you’re off f**king your assistant?”
“You have a dirty mind,” I mutter, grabbing a fry and dipping it in catsup before I point it at him. “Not everything is about f**king, you know. How does Marina put up with your ass day in and day out?”
“Marina loves my ass. And she especially loves my dirty mind.” He waggles his brows at me like a pervert. “And listen to you, the former king of groupies, chastising me like a prude. You sure as hell need to get laid and quick so we can cancel this entire bet once and for all. I’m tired of dealing with your insufferable ass.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” I mutter, shaking my head, concentrating on my lunch. “You’re the one who wanted to have lunch with me in the first place.” He has a point. I’m grumpy as hell because I want Bryn, and she’s turned off the signal completely. It’s like she barely realizes I exist.
I know why though. It’s because of my father. It’s because of that kiss. I regret her having to deal with my dad and the things he said to her. I wish I could’ve protected her from that.
But the kiss? I don’t regret that at all.
“I asked you to lunch so I could find out where your head is at.” He takes a drink from his soda. “So tell me. Did you plan this so-called business trip on purpose to get her in your hotel room or what?”
“Not even,” I scoff, munching on another fry. “We’re attending a conference—and not some phony one either, which I’m sure you’ll accuse me of. I won’t even have time to think about doing anything else except going from workshop to workshop, attend wine tastings and the like. It’s all about the business, my friend. Something you’ve forgotten since you’re too enraptured with your new girlfriend.”
“Says the man taking his obsession with him to New York City so he can do business.” Gage rolls his eyes. “Give me a break, man. We know exactly why you’re taking Bryn with you. To get in her panties.”
Thinking about Bryn in her panties just about gives me a coronary. So many lost opportunities we’ve had in such a short amount of time. Now she acts like she couldn’t give two shits about me.
I hate it. And it’s all my fault so I have no one to blame but myself.
“Definitely not,” I say firmly. “I think she’s over me.”
“Ha!” Gage points at me, his gaze bright and full of triumph. “You admit it; you two are interested in each other.”
“Yeah well, if she was interested in me, she’s definitely not now. She’s back to the efficient, no-nonsense Miss James.”
“I bet she sure is hot though, when she’s the efficient, no-nonsense Miss James,” Gage says with a shit-eating grin.
Jealousy flaring, I throw a fry at him aiming for his face, but he dodges it just in time. “Shut up, dickhead. You’re acting like a child.” What the hell, I feel like lately we’ve reverted to college talk—when we were young and dumb and talked crudely to and about everyone, especially each other.
“Who’s the child here, throwing food and calling me a dickhead?” Gage shakes his head. “I don’t know if any of us are going to survive these new terms. The longer you go without getting some, the grumpier you become. I bet your Miss James lost interest because you’ve become such a tyrant.”
That can’t be the reason. Can it? I doubt it. I think it has something to do with Dad. I have no idea what he said to her; she’s not talking and neither is he. I called him up a few days ago and flat out accused him of saying something shitty to Bryn but he didn’t give an inch.
Leaving me to conclude that he’s guilty as hell.
“The DeLuca Winery is all anyone’s talking about around town,” Gage says, thankfully changing the subject. “Your reopening was a huge hit.”
“Yeah, it went pretty well, didn’t it?” I’m trying to downplay it more for my own sake than anything else. There are still some deals and transactions in the works—trying to get some regional markets to carry the DeLuca brand, pushing out and growing our distribution list. More publicity opportunities too, ones that I’m hopeful will come to fruition and take DeLuca wine to a national level.