One Night, Two Consequences. Joss WoodЧитать онлайн книгу.
one-night lover. He could remember every kiss, every touch, every smell and he wished he could forget. One of these days he’d stop thinking of her … of that mind-blowing night.
Hopefully it would be sometime soon, so that his life could go back to normal. He hadn’t seen another woman, hadn’t had sex for six weeks, and it was time—way past time—to replace those hot memories of the champagne-eyed witch with the very bad pickup lines.
A hand slapping his desk jerked him back to the present. Eli and Ginny were on the other side of his desk, looking at him expectantly. When had they come in? He hadn’t even noticed.
‘Hi … what’s up?’
Ginny and Eli exchanged a long, weird look. ‘You called us to a meeting, Bo,’ Ginny said, pushing her hair behind her ears. ‘Are you okay?’
That would be a negative.
‘Sure,’ he lied, hating the feeling of operating on only one or two cylinders. He ran a multimillion-dollar company—it was time he acted like the super-sharp businessman he was reputed to be. Remembering his wife was normal—to be expected, even—but daydreaming about a hot night with a woman he wouldn’t see again was not. It was utterly ridiculous …
Irritated with himself, he located the file he needed from a pile to his right and tossed it across the table to where his sister and cousin were now sitting.
Dropping into his leather chair, he leaned back and placed his feet on the corner of his desk. ‘Bella’s Folly.’
Ginny leaned forward, clasping her hands around her knees. ‘The land with no owner?’
‘That we know of. If there isn’t a will, then the estate will pass on to her nearest relative. If there is a will, then it’s simple. Either way, we need to find the heir first,’ Eli said, placing his ankle on his knee.
‘Yeah. There is going to be a lot of interest in the property.’ Bo leaned further back in his chair. ‘Moving on from one folly to another … The renovations for the bistro and coffee shop are nearly finished, and I’m flying to New York tonight and will be back tomorrow evening. I need to see some customers, talk to some distributors, and I’ll also interview a couple of chefs for the position of the bistro chef/manager while I’m out there.’
Eli frowned. ‘No candidates from California?’
‘A couple,’ Bo answered. ‘These are better qualified.’
‘We met someone today who had real potential. Someone who knew food and whom we really liked,’ Ginny mused. ‘She could be just what we’re looking for.’
Bo lifted his eyebrows. ‘Is she applying for the job?’
Ginny pulled a face. ‘She’s not sticking around that long—which is a pity, because I think she would’ve been perfect for the bistro.’
Comme ci, comme ça … Bo shrugged. ‘I’ll find someone in New York.’
Ginny shook her head. ‘Just remember that we need the right personality. Someone who will fit in here at Belleaire with us. We want someone who is warm and funny, who can talk to kids and adults alike. Someone who has brilliant people skills and a solid sense of humour,’ Ginny insisted.
The last person he’d come across with a solid sense of humour had turned out to be the best sex of his life.
Better than Ana? Really?
Different from Ana, he quickly amended. Very different.
I thought we were done thinking about her, moron?
‘It would be nice if she was a looker, too.’ Eli added.
Remy had been a looker …
Enough, Tessier!
Bo looked at his watch. ‘I need to get going. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m away, okay?’
Eli sent Ginny a sardonic look. ‘How old are we? Ten?’
‘One of these days he’ll realise that he isn’t actually the boss of us,’ Ginny replied.
‘Somebody needs to keep you two in line,’ Bo told them, and held up his hand as mouths opened to protest. ‘Yeah, I know. I’m arrogant, annoying and bossy.’ He smiled at the two people he loved best. ‘Now, get out of my office. I’ve got a lot to do before I head to the airport.’
Eli and Ginny, not in the least offended, stood up. Ginny, being Ginny, walked around his desk to give him a hug goodbye. It didn’t matter if he was going away for two days or two years. Ginny would hug him as if he was leaving for ever.
THE BELLEAIRE WINE estate was dominated by a triple storey blue stone mansion—and how could it not be? Remy thought, pulling to the side of the broad, Spanish-oak-tree-lined driveway so that she could spend a minute admiring the house.
It had turrets and bay windows galore, balconies and buttresses, and was three storeys of pure whimsy. It looked like a grand old lady who’d had too many glasses of wine at suppertime and had decided to kick up her heels and dance a jig. It was loud and ostentatious and a tad over the top—and she absolutely loved it.
Her type of mansion, Remy thought.
The entrance to the hotel was just behind a massive square fountain, and there were discreet signs directing visitors to the art gallery, the craft shop, the potters’ studio. In the other direction was the tasting room, and if she looked to the land there were rows of vines as far as the eye could see, heavy with grapes. It was late summer and autumn was on its way. Some of the trees were starting to turn and she knew that the harvest was fast approaching.
Remy, as directed by Ginny, took the path to the gallery and walked through the luscious gardens to her destination. God, it was pretty. How lucky were Ginny and Eli to own this, to be part of this? Remy looked around. The place was elegant, rich, tasteful … and Remy was still surprised that Ginny had invited her to see Belleaire up close and to join her and Eli for supper that night.
Remy felt heat in her cheekbones, still felt humiliated and foolish. After her mortifying display in the diner she’d shrugged off Ginny’s company in the hotel reception area and stumbled up to her room, deathly tired and intensely humiliated, and had instantly dropped to her knees in front of the toilet.
She hadn’t really left that bathroom since. God knew how she was going to manage eating with Eli and Ginny … She was still living on crackers, apples and cheese—none of which she could keep down. Dinner would be a nightmare. Right now, her best plan would be to tell them she was pregnant and that she’d just have a soft drink with them—she couldn’t even drink wine on a wine estate, for Pete’s sake!—and leave early.
Passing the art gallery, she saw another building with a sign stating that it was the Blue View Bistro and she grinned. Belleaire, Bellevue, Blue View … that worked, she thought. She pulled open the door and stepped into the large, mostly empty space.
On the wall closest to her was an artist’s impression of what the restaurant would look like and Remy approved of the bright colours, fun artwork and welcoming vibe. There would be vintage mismatched chairs and tables, modern light fittings, and couches and chairs grouped in amongst the tables. It would be a fantastic mix of old and new … Damn, she wished that she’d be able to see it when it was done.
‘Remy, you made it!’
Remy looked towards the bright voice and saw Ginny coming out from an area that was to be the bar. Surprising her, Ginny kissed both her cheeks before looking up into her face.
‘How are you feeling? Better? I hope so. Come into the bar area. My cousin and brother are having an argument about bar stools. You’re still looking very pale and washed