St. Helena Vineyard Series: Sweet Satisfaction (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  Charles helped ChiChi on with her coat. She said, “Come back and bring a friend.”

  Tori’s smiled quavered. She felt her lip wobble along with a stinging sensation behind her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She left without putting her jacket on. Once outside she slid her arms in and pulled the coat closed. She ground the heel of her palm into her eye. That had been a little too close. The tears had sprung up so unexpectedly. Bring a friend, sure. Sam couldn’t come; she wasn’t here. And Tori didn’t have any friends locally, possibly not anymore. She had really hoped to meet people tonight who weren’t older than her grandparents.

  Tori slowed her pace. Where was she running off to? All she had was her apartment, and that only reminded her she was alone.

  The night had that quality of spring, only a bit chilled, and the scent of fresh growth wafted on the breeze. Maybe she would cut through the rose garden on her way home.

  A motorcycle sped past her with a whoosh.

  The rose garden wasn’t out of the way, but it was dark. Tori huffed and shook her head. No one was around, and they wouldn’t bother if the were. Sitting amongst the fragrance of new buds would be a welcome way to relax after her dance class.

  Another motorcycle rumbled slowly past her. The rider, hidden behind a full face helmet, waved tentatively before zooming off. Had that been the same bike? Tori shook her head. No face, no identity. It could have been any number of people from work. She did try to be friendly with all the growers.

  Tori sat with a thud on the bench in the gazebo. Even in the dark, the rose garden was lovely, and it smelled so nice. She was glad the city use composted organic waste from PnK’s farm now and not manure.

  She should take a picture of one of the roses. The compost would be a good angle for an Instagram post. Nothing ruined the beauty of a rose garden like the smell of crap.

  Even without the smell of it in her nose, Tori could not escape the bullshit that danced in her brain. Erin was one of the first people she had met outside of work. They seemed to hit it off pretty well, plus Ali, but this whole sudden change of plans seemed to be happening more and more. Tori figured if they really wanted to go to the Spigot, they could say so. Tori refused to go in there any more, but she would understand if her friends still wanted to go to their established hang out. She just wished they would say something about it.

  Instead they had to be all mysterious and change plans on her for the entire weekend. They really hadn’t needed to make such a big point of letting her know she wasn’t included. That had been so unnecessary.

  A chill washed over her, and Tori stood. She stepped down from the gazebo and headed into the rows of plants. She would stop by in the morning and get a picture, an open rose with a drop of dew gracefully poised on one of the petals. She found herself humming and following a step step slide together walking pattern. Yeah, she would go back to the dance class next week. It would be good to make friends from a different generation. Maybe ChiChi had more good looking grandsons who weren’t already married.

  ***

  Tori slowed her car at the light. The same motorcycle had been following her for miles. That shouldn’t have bothered her, considering there was only one main route in and out of town, and only two roads that would take someone all the way into Napa. But she kept wondering if it was the same bike she had seen last night. She was being silly. There were lots of black motorcycles and lots of riders in a similar helmet.

  Nevertheless, when the bike stuck to her tail once the highway opened to two lanes and she passed through a few towns into Napa proper, she grew paranoid.

  She tried to ignore the rider as he pulled up next to her at the big intersection. Two lanes turning left. He was going left, too? It was almost too much.

  She kept her eyes forward and did not look over at the biker. She hit the ceiling and jumped out of her skin when the rider knocked on her window. She could see the person was laughing, whoever it was.

  He flipped the face visor up, and yep, he was laughing.

  She rolled down her window and yelled. “Oh my God, Les, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “Pull in up here.” He pointed at one of the fast food restaurants up ahead.

  Tori nodded, and this time, she followed him, easing her car into a spot next to Les’s bike. He opened the passenger side door and slid into her car. Her heart raced. It had to be from the jump scare he gave her back at the intersection.

  “Damn, your car is tiny.” He wiggled, trying to accommodate his longer limbs into the restrictive space of her Fiat.

  “Yep, but it’s a convertible. Besides, it’s typically just me in here. Scoot the seat back.”

  The entire car jerked as Les adjusted the seat.

  Her heart continued to race.

  “Did I see you dancing down the street last night?”

  “Maybe. Why?” Tori hadn’t realized she had been dancing other than for a bit in the rose garden.

  “What were you doing out that late?” Les asked.

  “It wasn’t that late, and I was walking home.”

  “Did you have a date? You were all dressed up.”

  Tori shook her head. “I was at the open-floor ballroom class at the Barre and Tap School of Dance.”

  “Open-floor, meaning anyone can come?”

  Tori nodded.

  “That sounds interesting.” Les’s voice rumbled with an almost laugh.

  “Yeah, well, it’s small. It could use more people.”

  “How long have you been ballroom dancing?” Les asked.

  “About two hours,” she answered.

  She liked his laugh. Les smiled and laughed around her. It wasn’t much but she’d take it.

  “It took me a while to figure out I was following you. What are you doing in Napa?”

  “I’m going to a movie. What are you doing here?” she countered.

  Les chuckled. “I live here.”

  “Isn’t that a far commute?” Tori asked.

  “It’s not that bad. I’m not gonna move to St. Helena until I feel settled in at the Napa Grand and my lease here is up. I’ll probably move sometime in the summer, I guess.”

  Tori really didn’t know what to do. Les was sitting in her car, chatting, as if it was nothing. Right, friends—it was indeed nothing. She was the one making it into a big deal in her brain.

  “Who are you meeting?” he asked.

  Tori was confused for a moment. She hadn’t said she was meeting anybody. “Oh right, the movie. I’m on my own. I was going to go with some friends”—but they really aren’t my friends and so I’m stuck doing social things all by myself—“but they couldn’t make it, and I was really in the mood for a movie theater movie. You know popcorn, the big screen, that whole experience.”

  Les nodded. “Why not just go to the Solitaire?”

  “They don’t typically play the movies with the big explosions.” Tori shrugged. If she wanted an intellectual art film experience, she could have stayed in town. But she wanted mindless mass market action adventure or a rom-com.

  “What are we seeing?”

  She tilted her head at him quizzically. “We?”

  “A movie sounds like fun. Mind if I tag along?”

  “Okay. Do you want to move your bike, or is it okay parked there?” Tori asked. She was a little shocked that she was now going to a movie with Les. It wasn’t a date, but it was a million times better that being here with Erin and Ali, just because it was Les.

  They agreed on a horror movie. When Les said he wanted to see it, and she said yes. She hated horror movies, but for Les, she could give one a chance, couldn’t she?

  Big mistake.

  About twenty minutes in, she flipped up the divider arm between them and hid behind Les’s shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  She flinched at another exploding head. “I’m fine. I’m forwarding my therapist’s bill to you,” she whispered back. She cowered behind him for the re
st of the movie.

  The credits began scrolling, and Tori grabbed Les’s arm, yanking him out of his seat.

  “You should have said you didn’t like horror,” he said as he followed her from the theater.

  “I didn’t think it was going to be that gross.”

  They continued the conversation as they walked to Tori’s small car.

  “Sorry the movie freaked you out.” Les pulled Tori in for a brief hug.

  Maybe the icky movie had been worth it. Now that she thought about it, she had spent the entire movie clutching his arm, and now he hugged her.

  “I’ll see you at work?”

  She waved as he sauntered off.

  She didn’t want to friend zone herself. She knew she was crushing on him pretty hard. If this was the only way she was going to get any friends around here, she could handle it. There were worse things than being stuck in the self exiled friend zone, like not having anyone to talk to at all.

  Chapter 7

  “Hey, Tori. Could I borrow you and Karen for, like, five minutes?” Chef asked as they deposited the last trays of produce for today’s delivery.

  Tori looked to Karen for confirmation. She shrugged.

  Returning her attention to Chef, Tori said, “Sure, what’s up?”

  “We want you two to test some desserts for us,” Chef responded.

  Tori brushed her hands against the thigh of her jeans before following Chef into the dining room. Karen quietly followed.

  One of the round tables was set with four place settings and an array of desserts. Les was chatting with the hotel owner, who was already seated.

  A single butterfly in Tori’s stomach flapped in happiness to see him. Had he gotten better looking somehow this week? It wasn’t until he smiled that the rest of her nervous butterflies began to riot.

  “Hey, Les, Marc.” She greeted the two men and took a seat as Chef indicated. Karen sank into the chair next to her.

  Les began talking. “We just want your opinion on a few new desserts we’re considering.”

  Tori excitedly shifted her attention away from Les, as gorgeous as he was in his bright white, perfectly clean chef’s jacket, and onto the confections in front of her. Les had already proven to be an expert at cheesecake. He had to be or Chef would never have hired him. What was she about to thrill her taste buds with?

  The door from the kitchen swung open. A quick glance let her know she did not need to pay attention. Josh. She thought that by ignoring him, he would eventually stop pestering her. She could hope.

  “Jeez, Chef, you could have asked me. I’d tell you Hernandez bakes crap. These two won’t know quality taste,” Josh whined. Josh always whined.

  “I want an untrained palette. Their opinions will be more valid than yours as a trained chef,” Marc responded, justifying the selection of taste testers.

  Tori stared at the space in front of her, trying desperately not to let Josh bother her.

  “Look at her, she’ll eat any—”

  “Stevens! Back to the kitchen,” Chef yelled, cutting him off.

  Maybe she needed to rethink having taken back this delivery route.

  “I’m just saying…” Josh persisted.

  “One more word out of your mouth, and you are fired. One thing. Try me,” Chef growled.

  The swinging door flapped as Josh retreated into the kitchen. Tension swept from Tori’s shoulders with Josh’s exit.

  “Thank you, Chef,” Les muttered.

  Tori looked up. Les was staring at her. His expression soft, like he wanted to ask if she was okay.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Tori nodded.

  Les slid a small glass dome in front of Karen and then gave one to Tori. It wobbled a bit, so it wasn’t glass. Gelatin? In the center was an arrangement of flowers. It looked like a dust collector her mother would put on a shelf. It was too pretty to be a dessert.

  “I can eat it?” Karen asked the question Tori was thinking.

  Tori poked at it with her spoon a few times to make sure it really wasn’t solid.

  Sharp and clean, slightly fruity, the flavors sparkled on her tongue. “This is the fanciest Jell-O I’ve ever had.”

  “That’s too strong,” Karen whispered as she pushed the plate away from her.

  “I think it’s fine. I like the flavors, but I can’t place them,” Tori admitted.

  “Sparkling white wine, from the DeLuca vineyards, of course, for the clear layer, and a sweet cream panna cotta for the base. I wanted something that was sweet, with local flavor. And not too heavy for the summer.”

  Marc seem to like it, since he continued eating his piece.

  “Good flavor,” Chef agreed as he put his spoon down.

  Les passed around plates with small pale cubes dusted in confectioner’s sugar.

  “What are these?” Tori asked. The powdery white cubes were different colors under the outer coating, and slightly bigger than a square inch.

  Karen picked a cube up and blew on it, scattering the sugar like fine powder.

  “Those are Turkish Delights,” Les explained. “There will be six, two of each flavor, in a serving.”

  Tori bit one of the paler cubes in half. Her teeth slid through the jellied candy. It tasted like the sparkling wine gelatin. Delicate yet sweet. She popped the entire next cube into her mouth and let the sugar dissolve. She closed her eyes as her tongue made contact with the flavor underneath. She breathed deeply through her nose and relaxed around the lavender flavor. The candy had the perfect balance. Not too sweet, and not too lavendery. The last one made her think of her grandmother.

  “What’s this one?” Tori pointed to her mouth. “The first one I had was the sparkling wine, the second lavender, but I can’t place this one.”

  “That would be rose. I selected the flavors that would best represent the valley, with out being overbearing.”

  “You want to serve candy in the restaurant?” Marc asked.

  “It’s the kind of light accompaniment that would be perfect for a tea serving or a lunch dessert. We can call them Grand Delights or Napa Delights. If they are popular enough, you can package them up and sell them in the gift shop,” Les suggested.

  The next piece Les indicated was a yellow wedge with thick white frosting, and accented with a perfect curl of lemon zest. The cake was light and perfect. A salted caramel blond brownie, and a decadent chocolate and sour cream cake followed.

  “The chocolate is too heavy, I think,” Marc commented. “I thought you were going for lighter faire for the summer months? The Turkish Delight was a surprise. But I’m not sure on this one. The brownie is too sports bar.”

  “We need something chocolate,” Chef replied.

  “I can work on something else if the cake is too much,” Les added.

  Tori scooted her chair back, ready to return to work. “Those were great. Thanks for asking us to help.” She was a little disappointed there hadn’t been cheesecake. Les had mentioned he specialized in her favorite dessert, and yet nothing.

  “Oh, we’re not done.” Les smiled before turning away. He bent over and pulled something from the lower level of the serving cart behind him.

  Tori’s eyes went wide.

  Les held two long white rectangular plates with five round mini towers of cheesecake.

  “I don’t eat cheesecake.” Karen quietly pushed out of her chair. “I’ll see you in the truck.”

  Everyone watched as she quietly left.

  “Is she okay?” Marc asked.

  “She’s just really quiet and shy.” Tori screwed up her face. “And socially awkward. But I think she appreciated being asked to help out. She said something.”

  Tori turned her attention back to the cheesecakes. Now this is what she was hoping for. She smiled with delight as Les slid the long plate in front of her.

  “Are you going to do a cheesecake flight? That would be awesome.” She looked at Les expectantly.

  “Hadn’t thought about that. Hmm.” Chef tap
ped his fork against his mouth. “That might be worth looking into.”

  “A flight?” Marc asked.

  “Yeah, you’ve had them. It’s like a wine tasting where you get a smaller portion of different flavors. People have been doing it around here for so long, but they don’t call it a flight, just a tasting,” Les answered. He turned to Tori. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  “Sorry… I… ah… yeah.” She slid the fork into the first cheesecake. Chocolate by the coloring. It was delicious, smooth, and perfect. The coco flavor was almost as intense as the cake earlier.

  She wanted to dive in and finish the entire small piece, but Karen was waiting and there were four more mini-cakes.

  The next one played a myriad of flavors across her tongue. She closed her eyes and savored the nuances of a red wine combined with white chocolate. She may have moaned.

  Les watched as the tip of Tori’s tongue touched the morsel of food on the fork. She guided the fork into her mouth and closed her pink lips around the piece of cheesecake. The fork slid ever so slowly from between her lips, wiped perfectly clean. His body pulled. What he wouldn’t give to be that fork right now.

  Stop it, dude, that’s just Tori.

  She focused on a bite of a different flavor. Mouth, lips, tongue. She made a stuttering mew of a moan. The look on her face… Les felt a throb in his crotch.

  Chef cleared his throat and put his fork down. Les looked over at Marc, who shifted uneasily in his chair. Damn, Les wasn’t the only one thinking that Tori might be enjoying her cheesecake a bit too much. Then again, what would it take for a man to satisfy her to that level?

  Les started clearing the table as Tori sampled the last flavor on her plate. Watching made him feel almost dirty, like he had been caught sneaking into his tio’s Hustler collection.

  He shook his head. Tori was cute and all, but no, not Tori. Not with her plus-sized jeans.

  That was when his brain began to argue with him. Shut the fuck up, Les, you’re beginning to sound like Stevens. Why not Tori?

  After a few false starts and a voice crack, Chef managed, “You certainly enjoy your cheesecake. That was positively…”

  “I feel like a bit of a voyeur having witnessed that,” Marc added under his breath.