Page 59 of While You Were Trending

I smile at her. “Nice job with Freida today.”

Her eyes half cross as she grimaces. “Thank you.”

“You gonna be hitting some of that wine too?”

“No, I think Heath has something better in mind for me.”

“You all really don’t mind talking about everyone’s sex lives, do you?”

She grins. “Welcome to the Five Minutes of Shame Commune, where we have none.”

Must be nice.

I still feel shame at how I treated Ginny those years that Alex dated her.

And a little more shame that I’m not telling Alex what I’m doing.

But this is my job now.

So that’s what it has to be.

Just a job.

12

THE TRUTH IN OUR STARS

Ginny

Long after dinner and sunset,I slip out of the house, kick off my shoes, and head into the vineyard fields, hands in the pockets of my dress, watching the stars come to life overhead as I drift farther from the lights.

Being under the stars, the scent of ripe grapes around me, the feel of grass and dirt between my toes—this is one of the things that helped me heal the most when I got here.

Not physically, but emotionally.

And not just from suddenly being known asthe wedding wrecker, but a lot of my subconscious wounds from childhood too.

The sun will put on a brilliant show as it rises tomorrow morning, and I’ll drink coffee out of my favorite mug and my mother won’t be here because Cricket’s chickens are better than trained attack dogs and Cricket herself is a miracle worker.

I’ve spent half the day thinking I, too, should go find a private spa and hide for a while, but I’ve now lost three clients due to my video circulating again.

I can’t afford a private spa.

Especially with how tenuous our financial situation has been here at the winery these past few months.

But none of that matters in this moment.

In this moment, I have the stars and the earth and the grapes, and all is well.

Except for the part where I’m tripping over someone sprawled on a strip of grass between two sections of the fields.

I squeak as I fall across a body, the deepoofbeneath me telling my ears the same thing that the scents of cinnamon and leather and bad memories are telling my nose.

And that’s before the low moan of pain telling me I fell somewhere bad.

Somewhere very, very bad.

“What are you doing?” I yelp as I try to scramble off Declan.