Shattered Read online

  “He’ll be at the Bianchi’s anniversary party in a couple of weeks.” They’re celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary with a party at the winery. We’re both invited and it’s not something either of us would feel comfortable skipping.

  “Are you taking a date?” Emily asks then jumps sharply as Vivien elbows her. “Ow! I’m not suggesting she run out and find another boyfriend. I’m simply saying that it may be wise to bring a buffer, a friend who can distract from the awkwardness.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “You’ve met Luke, right? Showing up with a date would definitely make things worse.” He doesn’t show it all the time, but Luke has a jealous side I don’t want to awaken.

  “Those are your co-workers, Jessica, he’s the one that should be feeling awkward, not you.” I can tell Vivien is a little more testy than normal, probably a residual reaction from her prior mother-in-law rant.

  “Do you think he’ll bring someone?” Emily asks.

  “No,” I say too quickly. Then I get the chills. “Oh God, I hope not.” I have multiple scenarios currently running through my head and none of them end with me having a great time at this party. “What if he brings her?” My stomach lurches and I quickly take a drink of water to try to calm it.

  “Who? Claire?” Vivien shakes her head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “For all I know he’s with her now.”

  “Jessica, Luke loves you. I can’t imagine him wanting to be with anyone else.” Emily flags down our waitress. “We’re going to need another round, please.”

  “They’re having a baby. It’s likely that some of the feelings they had for each other will come back to the surface.” I admit one of my deepest fears for the first time out loud to my friends.

  “You think he’s going to end up with her.” Emily looks like she just figured something out.

  “Obviously the thought has crossed my mind.”

  “I can’t picture it.” Vivien shakes her head. “Not with the way he looks at you.”

  “Exactly, we’ve all seen the look,” Emily says, and Vivien giggles.

  “What look?”

  “The look Luke gives you sometimes. The look that says I can’t wait to get you home and tear your clothes off.” Emily pantomimes ripping open Vivien’s shirt and they both laugh.

  “He does not.” I blush.

  “Does he rip them off with his hands or his teeth?” Emily wags her eyebrows at me.

  Vivien pretends to fan herself. “If Ed looked at me like that, I’d probably rip my own clothes off.” She turns to Emily “Does Rob look at you like that?”

  “No, but I do rip his boxers off with my teeth sometimes.” Emily winks at her and we all laugh.

  The subject is changed to Emily’s relationship and I’m thankful to not have to listen any more about how Luke used to look at me.

  “Monica, can you send me the guest list for the Bianchi’s party?” I ask, twirling the cord around my finger.

  “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you needed it.”

  “Yes, I need to make sure we have enough staff coverage,” I lie.

  “Isn’t that something Andre should be in charge of? You’re busy enough, he shouldn’t be pawning his job off on you.” Monica sounds irritated and I know why. Our special events manager has a reputation for delegating more of his responsibilities than he should.

  “He didn’t. I just want to make sure everything is accounted for. A second set of eyes so nothing falls through the cracks.”

  “That’s a good idea…” Monica pauses. “Total headcount is two hundred seventy-six right now, but we should leave a buffer on top of that.”

  I don’t really need the headcount, but ever since the thought crossed my mind during dinner the other night, I want to see that list. He’s probably not bringing her, but I need to mentally prepare if he is. “Sounds good. Linda needs my help with something, so just go ahead and email it to me. Thanks, Monica.” I hang up before she has a chance to ask any more questions.

  I tap my pen anxiously against the desktop. I’m already thinking of a new reason I could give as to why I need the actual list, when I see the new email from Monica pop up in my inbox.

  I quickly open the spreadsheet and do a search. The cursor moves to the guest in question almost instantaneously. Luke has accepted the invite and there is a plus one added to his name.

  My stomach drops.

  “You ready to head over to the party?” Ryan, head winemaker for Bianchi winery, pops his head around the corner of my office door.

  I look down at my fitted black dress I changed into an hour ago. “Technically.”

  “What’s the problem?” Ryan steps all the way in and I take in his tall frame. I’m used to seeing him in jeans and a polo at work and I mentally note how well he cleans up.

  “Ryan, can I ask you to do something for me and not ask any questions?” Ryan’s a good friend, someone I can trust. We had some issues last year when, in a misguided effort, he tried to protect me from Luke. He didn’t trust him for a while, but once Luke and I were engaged he saw I was happy and went back to being a supportive friend.

  “Is it something I could go to jail for?”

  I laugh. “No.”

  “Is it something I could get fired for?”

  I shake my head. “Definitely not.”

  “Okay, what is it?”

  “Would you please walk over to the party and come back to tell me who Luke is with?” I cringe in embarrassment. I’ve been dreading walking in that room and seeing Luke with someone all week, especially if it’s who I suspect. I thought about asking Luke, but every time I typed out a text or started to call him, I got too nervous and chickened out. After not talking for a month, I didn’t feel in a position to ask.

  “Sure thing,” Ryan says with a wink, and true to his word doesn’t ask any questions.

  I finish applying my lipstick and spritz on perfume while I wait for Ryan to return.

  Ryan doesn’t say anything when he sits in the chair across from me.

  “So?” I prompt.

  Ryan only hesitates a moment before seemingly remembering our agreement. “He’s with a tall blonde woman.”

  I don’t know how tall Claire is, but I do know she’s blonde. Emily and I were drinking wine at her house one night and she talked me into letting her find Claire’s social media accounts. In that moment I felt like I needed to know what she looked like. I immediately regretted my decision after seeing numerous pictures of a beautiful, happy, blonde woman with an exciting life full of travel and friends.

  “Thanks, Ryan.” I know I have to go to this party, so I try to shake off the sick feeling in my stomach. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Ryan and I arrive to a spectacularly decorated barrel room. Soft candlelight flickers against the wine barrels and beamed ceilings. Soothing classical music from the string quartet wafts through the air, mixing with the hum of joyful conversation. I don’t chance a look at the tables. I would prefer to save the moment I see Luke with her until after I’ve had a glass of wine.

  Ryan stops to talk to Monica, but I merely wave a hello to her and continue toward my destination. I’m standing in line at the bar when I hear my name.

  “Jessica!” Andi, Aaron’s wife, walks toward me with open arms and pulls me in for a hug when she reaches me. “So good to see you.”

  “You, too. You look amazing. I love your dress.” Andi is stunning in a strappy black dress that accentuates her tiny waist.

  “Thank you.” She glances back at the rest of their group approaching. “Have you met Aaron and Luke’s newest partner Christina?”

  “Not officially. Nice to meet you.” Relief floods my body as I extend a hand to the tall blonde. We had a brief encounter at Luke’s apartment months ago when I mistook her for someone Luke was dating, but we were never fo
rmally introduced. I should have thought of her instead of jumping to the conclusion that Luke would bring Claire.

  She takes it with a genuine smile on her face. “Hi, Jessica. Nice to finally meet you.”

  “We want to start getting Christina more involved with this project and figured tonight was a good time for her to meet everyone. Hi, Jess.” Aaron gives me a hug.

  “Hi, Aaron.” I catch a glimpse of Luke over Aaron’s shoulder. He’s looking around the room. He looks calm and collected while my heart threatens to leap from my chest.

  “At this time, we’re going to ask everyone to take their seats, so we can get started,” the hired emcee announces.

  I excuse myself and find Ryan. I asked Monica specifically if she would make sure we were sitting by each other. He’s always good company and hanging out with him may be my only shot at salvaging this evening.

  We take our seats at one of the circular dining tables. We’re sitting with other winery professionals from the valley, probably because Ryan and I know most of them. Mr. and Mrs. Phelps own another winery in town and have been friends with the Bianchis for years. Jeff Sturgeon, the winemaker from Starlight Winery, and his wife are seated to my right. Jeff did some consulting work for the Bianchis years ago, before they hired Ryan, and they’ve been friends ever since. On the other side of Ryan are the Maxwells. They own a local tour company and have been bringing their groups to the winery since they opened for business.

  Some are still finding their seats when I see Leo, the Bianchis oldest son, walk up to the mic. I haven’t seen him in years, but his resemblance to his father instantly reminds me who he is.

  “Good evening, everyone,” he says confidently, causing the stragglers to quickly take their seats.

  “First of all, my siblings and I would like to thank you all for coming this evening. I know it means the world to my parents to have you all here to celebrate with them tonight. I think we would all agree that the love they have for each other is carried forward in the love they have for their family and friends.”

  Everyone claps as waiters begin filling glasses with sparkling wine.

  “My family has an expression that most of you have probably heard at one point or another: you can’t run a winery without some shattered glasses. This started as something my parents would say to me and my siblings when we were young and helping my parents here on the weekends. It was designed to make us feel better when we would break something or otherwise screw up, but it’s become more than that. It’s become a lesson on accepting challenges and difficulties as part of life, as part of marriage. My parents will tell you their marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s their ability to embrace life’s messiness that has made their marriage so durable.”

  At this point, Leo grabs his glass of wine from the table and lifts it toward the room as we all follow suit. “To my mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Bianchi. Congratulations on your long and happy marriage. To many more years of cleaning up shattered glasses together. Salute.”

  “Salute.” I clink my glass against those of my tablemates. The message of the speech had nothing to do with me, nonetheless its irony isn’t lost on me.

  Dinner commences, and Ryan and I engage in small talk with the other guests. We discuss how the expansion is progressing and new projects the other wineries are embarking upon.

  After dessert, the music grows louder, and guests begin to infiltrate the dance floor. I excuse myself to step outside for some fresh air.

  I exit the large double doors of the barrel room, eyes glued to a text from Vivien. She’s had another run in with her mother-in-law and needs to vent. I’m not paying attention when I lean against one of the low walls bordering the courtyard.

  “Are you even going to say hello?” Luke’s low voice startles me.

  I jerk my head up in the direction of his voice. He’s standing about ten feet away from me, wearing a scowl.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” I try to explain as Luke pushes away from the wall and walks toward the parking lot.

  “Have a nice evening,” he says sharply as he walks away. I vaguely hear him mutter something else as he leaves. I don’t hear the entire sentiment, but I make out the “fucked up” part.

  I nearly have to jog to even keep pace with Luke’s long, determined strides. If I want to actually catch up to him, I would need to run, not an easy feat in heels.

  “Luke,” I call ahead of me, but he ignores my call. “Luke,” I say his name louder this time.

  “Not now, Jessica.” He doesn’t look back and he doesn’t slow down.

  I pray I don’t twist an ankle and speed up my pace. When I reach him I step in front of him. His eyes threaten to burn holes through me.

  “I said not now.” He sidesteps me and continues into the parking lot.

  “Please talk to me, Luke.”

  He stops, spins around and takes a few steps back to where I have frozen. “Now you want to talk?”

  “I know you’re angry with me, but I wasn’t ignoring you.”

  “Maybe you were or maybe you weren’t ignoring me tonight, but you’ve made it clear you’d prefer little communication with me.” Luke turns his face up to the cloud filled sky and lets out a big breath. “I don’t understand how we got here. We were supposed to be planning our wedding and now we can’t even have a conversation.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Luke.” I say softly. “It’s just so hard.”

  He rubs his hand over his clenched jaw. “I almost didn’t come tonight. I didn’t want to see you upset, but I didn’t want to see you too happy, either.”

  “I get it. I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times over the past month, but I don’t know what to say and I don’t want to make it worse.”

  Luke looks at me for a moment before taking another deep breath and letting his shoulders relax slightly. “I’m sure coming tonight wasn’t easy for you, either.”

  “I’ve been dreading it all week.” I look down at the ground. “I saw that you added a plus one to your name and I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I thought you were bringing her.”

  “Claire? Jessica, I’m not going to bring her to anything. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

  In the spirit of the night I want to believe him.

  Luke runs a hand through his hair. “There’s only one woman I want to be with.”

  My chest constricts, and I look away. “We better get back to the party.”

  “Right. I’ll be there in a minute,” he says with a hoarse voice. “Oh, I thought you should know, I spoke with Claire and explained the situation with the name. We’re naming the baby Finn, after her grandfather.”

  “Oh.” I stand frozen for a moment. The news should make me feel better, yet somehow doesn’t. “That’s a nice name.”

  Luke nods.

  “I’ll see you back inside?” I ask quietly.

  “Sure.”

  It feels hard to breathe as I leave him in the parking lot.

  When I reach the doors to the tasting room, I look back at him. Luke’s standing in the same spot I left him, hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. I resist the urge to go back to him and push one side of the heavy double doors open.

  “Hey, there.” I stammer as I narrowly avoid crashing into Ryan.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah, just talking with Luke.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  I take a deep breath.

  Ryan smiles. “Come dance with me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I hesitate. When Ryan was wary of Luke last year, he did some things that rubbed Luke the wrong way. Luke threatened to go straighten Ryan out more than once, but I was always able to contain the situation. Considering the high stress level of our current situation I’m not sure I would be able ease any tension t
hat could arise between the two men. “I’m not sure I’m in a dancing mood.”

  “Well, lucky for you I’m a great dancer and I know for a fact that it’s impossible to dance with me and not have a great time.”

  I smirk. “Careful, you don’t want to oversell yourself, Ryan.”

  “Come on.” He nods his head toward the dance floor.

  “One dance,” I agree.

  One dance turns into many more. We only stop when I excuse myself for a bathroom break. When I return, I scan the floor for Ryan, looking to see if he found a new partner, but I don’t see him.

  Finally I locate him. He’s standing at the bar talking with Luke. Shit.

  They don’t appear to be engaged in anything too heated, so I return to our table and have a seat. I’m reapplying lipstick when Ryan pulls out the chair next to me.

  “How did that go? I hope you didn’t antagonize him.” I assume Luke had some words of warning for Ryan after seeing us dancing together.

  “It was fine. He just said he wanted you to have a good time tonight.”

  “That can’t be all he said.”

  Ryan laughs. “He said you deserved a night without him fucking it up, so he was going to do his best not to upset you anymore.” Ryan tilts his head. “And that I better not, either.”

  “That sounds more like him.” I nod.

  “Come on, I love this song.” Ryan smiles as he stands, and I follow him back onto the dance floor.

  Chapter 7

  “Did you have fun at the party?” I ask, as Mrs. Bianchi shuffles through the papers on her desk. She and Mr. Bianchi took the week off after the party to spend time with family and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to ask her about it.

  “We did. It was so lovely to have our kids and friends all there to celebrate with us. And Andre did a fabulous job, as always.” She smiles warmly while pulling a pen from her desk drawer. Mrs. Bianchi has always had a soft spot for Andre, our events coordinator, and often overlooks the faults we all see in him.

  “The room looked amazing. So did you and Mr. Bianchi.”