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hands in his. “Listen, forget about him—just write about the winery. We all love it here. He was being a jackass, but it’s not a reflection of what we do. Susan and Guillermo and I will show you everything that we do here.” There was urgency in his voice. “Listen, Katy, go up to your room and relax, I’ll have the chef send up something special. I’m really sorry about R.J.”
    “Are you related to Susan?” I asked. He jerked his head back in surprise. “Well, I just saw the way you spoke to her, and it looked like she was comforting you.”
    “Oh yeah? Well, I guess I would say that Susan has been sort of like a mom to me. She got me this job.”
    “Huh, interesting.” I stood slowly from my barstool. “I have a lot of questions.” I said it softly, almost to myself, but I knew Jamie heard me.
    “Let’s pick up this conversation later. Do you have any food allergies, or is there anything you don’t eat?”
    “I’m a vegetarian.”
    “Okay.” He smiled warmly at me. There was silence as we stared at each other. The connection was palpable. “Truffle mushroom risotto?”
    I was in a daze, still staring into his eyes and he into mine. It felt like he was burrowing into the depths of my soul. He was captivating me, enchanting me with fancy names for rice dishes. I must have been very hungry.
    “Is that hyperbole?”
    “No.” He laughed. “It’s Chef Mark’s signature dish.”
    “It sounds amazing.”
    He paused then whispered, “You’re beautiful.”
    “I have a boyfriend.” I whispered back.
    “You mentioned that.”
    Right at that moment my knees buckled, but luckily Susan had suddenly appeared at my side and grabbed me from around the waist, hitching me up.
    “You need to eat, young lady. You’re a waif, and we don’t want you passing out on us,” she said.
    I looked up at Jamie, who shrugged. “She’s right. Up to your room, young lady.”
    Susan pulled me toward the door, and I turned and spoke over my shoulder. “Bye, Jamie. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
    “At least,” he said, grinning.
    Walking toward the inn, I took the opportunity to drill Susan.
    “Does Jamie ride a motorcycle?”
    “No.”
    “Is he in a band?”
    “Not that I know of.”
    “What about rodeo. Does he rodeo?”
    She laughed. “Jamie does a great many things around the R.J. Lawson property. He is our resident jack-of-all-trades—you’ll see that for yourself over the next few days. And while I see you’ve picked up on some of his bad boy tendencies, he really is just a sweet, good ol’ boy.” Her smile flattened abruptly as she squared her small frame and looked me right in the eyes. “You should know that he’s like a son to me. He’s experienced great personal loss and betrayal by the people who were supposed to love him. He’s found a home and a family in this place. I hope you don’t come in here looking for some kind of story in all of this. Or maybe you’re looking for a fling? If so, you’re looking in the wrong place,” she said with a perfunctory smile.
    “Whoa, Susan. Jamie seems like he can take care of himself,” I said. She shrugged. “Anyway, I was just curious. I have a boyfriend, by the way.”
    “Who are you reminding of that fact?”
    My eyes began to well up. She was putting me on the spot and embarrassing me, but I held back the tears. I was a professional.
    “I’m looking for details for the article, that’s it. I’m supposed to be writing an article on R. J. Lawson and, well . . . you know how that interview went.” I said the last part with a huge lump in my throat.
    “I’m sorry, Kate. He acted very inappropriately. That is not what we’re about here, and I’ve asked that he complete the interview via e-mail so you don’t have to go through that all over again on Thursday.”
    “What? No! My whole reason for being here is to conduct the interview in person. I won’t get the answers I need if he can calculate all of his responses in an e-mail.”
    She