But first, she’d get through tonight.
Going to a wine tasting with Julian’s sister was a terrible idea considering she’d resolved to move on. For real this time. Especially after the awkward scene that had played out in his front yard. He’d made it clear that they were incompatible and written a letter to someone else, so what gave him the right to decide what she did with her time? Or whom she spent it with?
The guesthouse garden was almost complete. She hadn’t quite decided what she would use to fill the final spaces, but it would come to her. Hopefully on her next trip to the nursery—and then she could wrap up her responsibilities to the Vos family, bill the matriarch, and move on. No more secret admirer letters, either. They were just another ill-conceived part of her life. She’d acted on impulse, and where did it lead her?
To having him validate all of her feelings. The ones she’d held on to for so long. And those things were not good, because Julian remained unavailable to her. Nothing had changed. If she revealed herself to him as the author of those letters, he would probably be disappointed that she wasn’t some like-minded scholar with a home filing system.
Maybe she would write the letters to herself from now on, instead of to Julian. They’d led her somewhere useful, hadn’t they? She’d finally admitted that avoidance through chaos was harming her livelihood. Even her friendship with Lavinia, who had begun looking at her in that worried, measuring way. Hallie needed to turn onto a new path. A healthy one.
Hallie shuffled a few lipsticks into her makeup case and snapped it shut, suddenly looking forward to a cleaning spree in the morning. A fresh start. Maybe she would even pick a new wall color for the living room and do some painting. Peony pink or peacock blue. Something vivid that would serve as a reminder that she was not only capable of admitting her self-destructive habits, but of finding a way to correct her course while remaining true to herself.
With a nod, Hallie requested an Uber and spent the ten-minute wait saying good-bye to the boys, which led to another harried trip to the lint roller, but the snuffling snuggles were well worth it. She’d taken them to the dog park after dinner so they could run off any excess energy that might lead to her coming home to couch stuffing all over the floor. Now she put some extra food in their bowls and walked out the front door, clutch purse in hand, sinking into the back seat of the black Prius.
Julian must have given his sister Hallie’s phone number, because Natalie had texted her that afternoon with an address to the apparently SEAL-owned winery, Zelnick Cellar. The place had a website, but it was under construction, and she’d never heard of it from anyone in town. She was curious, even if spending the evening with a Vos wasn’t the wisest step on her road to separating herself from all things Julian.
Ten minutes later, the Uber stopped in front of a medium-size barn surrounded by wooden fencing. Flickering light shone from within, and she could see a small crowd standing around. She had to imagine they were locals, since she hadn’t been able to find the tasting advertised anywhere on the Web. Was it entirely through word of mouth?
Tossing a thank-you to the driver, Hallie climbed out of the back seat and stood, tugging down the snug hem of her dress. She opened the flashlight app on her phone—getting a lot of use out of it lately, huh?—and did her best to navigate the dirt path leading to the barn while wearing skinny three-inch heels. The closer she got to the music and the crowd, the more well-lit the path became, and she slipped her phone back into her purse. Glowing white bulbs bounced up and down in the breeze, strung from high points of the barn. Was that the Beach Boys playing? This had to be the most casual wine tasting she’d ever attended. No doubt she’d overdressed—
Julian stepped into the barn entrance.
In a sharp, charcoal-gray suit.
Holding a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.
Time slowed down, allowing her to feel and experience the over-the-top response of her hormones. They sang like tone-deaf preteens in the shower, screeching the high notes with misplaced confidence. Wow. Oh wow. He looked like he’d walked out of an advertisement for an expensive watch with too many dials. Or Gucci cologne.
Good. Lord.
Wait. Wildflowers were her favorite. How had he known?
Honestly, it tracked that they would be. But still.
She recognized the pink cellophane wrapping. He’d gone all the way to the nursery for that colorful spray. Who were they for?
Why was he here in the first place?
Close your mouth before you start drooling.