“Hey,” I tossed in. “Maybe it’ll be fun, the shoot.”
“I hope so,” she said. “I better let you get on with your morning.”
We said good-bye, I clicked off the call, and I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I was very aware of my body. It was like her voice alone could wake me the hell up. My skin felt wonderfully prickly, my nipples were taut and sensitive, and the lower portions should just shut the hell up. I ran a hand all the way to my inner thigh and closed my eyes at the images of her and the movie in my mind. If only we’d come with a different ending.
I heard my own advice to Grace. The same shred Sarah had thrown back at me. Maybe she had just made a bad call? Was that possible? Maybe I mattered more to her than I thought. After doing so much convincing of myself otherwise, it was hard to imagine.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
The word should come with a warning label and an insurance policy.
I knew one thing for sure. She and I had unfinished business, and I could run, but I couldn’t hide from Carrie forever.
Chapter Twenty-one
And Skyler, I think we’ll have you over here,” the director—Scott—said, indicating a chair at the small table with The Secret Sauce logo set up in Carrie’s backyard, which still felt a little like mine. I wore a blue sundress, picked out for me by wardrobe from the three options I’d brought with me. Sherry was there along with an entire crew. People bustled, chatted quietly with each other, and took lighting readings. Hair and makeup had really come through as well. A sophisticated operation. I was highly impressed by the setup.
“This is great,” I told Scott, taking the seat he indicated. An intern appeared on my side and offered me a water with lime. Well, well.
Carrie would be seated to my right, and our sommelier for the day, Ray, would come and go between our chat sessions to usher us through another small bite and wine pairing. It was a relaxed, unscripted format under a structured umbrella. I liked it already and could see Carrie’s hand in all of it. I watched her have her makeup touched up just feet away. I didn’t want to say I told you so, but I had. She was in her element.
“You’ve added those,” I said, indicating the snaking vines with orange blossoms along the back wall of her yard. “They’re nice.”
“Yeah, not too long ago. I like the pop of color.”
It was strange being back there in the place I’d created so many wonderful memories, only to feel like a visitor. In fact, I didn’t like it. I smiled at her, but my stomach flip-flopped. I was feeling at sea. “You always had great intuition.”
“Shall we get started on segment one?” Scott asked, interrupting. I was told they’d already shot the intro.
We nodded, and after a brief chat with him about goals for the conversation, we got started.
Carrie kicked us off, and after introducing me to the viewers, turned to me directly. “Now, Skyler, you and I know each other pretty well, and I’m aware of your appreciation of a good glass of wine.”
I grinned. “Now don’t mistake that for knowledge.”
“Well, not to worry. I think we’re going to get a bit of help with that shortly. You’re gonna love Ray.”
And we were off, a casual back-and-forth that actually flowed really well. Carrie had an impressive ability to put her guests at ease immediately. It was a really fun conversation, one that I never would have allowed to happen informally. But now that it had? It was really wonderful to talk with Carrie casually again, like water to the thirsty. The show had granted me a certain permission that I didn’t grant myself. We moved onto segment two, and the wine flowed a little bit as we tasted a few varietals from a small winery in the Willamette Valley.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m falling for this pinot,” Carrie said.
I nodded and studied the glass for color. “It’s the star today. Hey, you need a revisit over there?” I asked, surveying her empty glass. “Can we get her a revisit?” I asked Ray, who happily appeared and topped her glass.
She laughed. “I guess I do. And would you believe I’ve been to this winery? Tangle Valley Vineyard located in the perfect little town of Whisper Wall, Oregon. Check out our website for a little discount if you want to visit. Tell them we sent you. I have a feeling they’re going to take great care of you either way.”
“Oh yeah? I’ll have to check it out.”
She placed her hand on my wrist. “Well, if you do, don’t miss the little biscuit café up the street.”
I flashed on her telling me about that place the morning she made me those amazing biscuits after a steamy night together. I gave my head the smallest of shakes to clear the images that struck because I was on camera, for God’s sake. Then I decided it didn’t matter. If I was gonna take a risk, why not make it big? Because for starters, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The gestures that were all her, the sparkle in her eyes that she was never stingy with. I knew Carrie’s heart, and it was pure. She was a kind person who put thought into most everything she did. Wasn’t she worthy of a second shot? And if she wasn’t, who was? What the hell was I waiting for?
“Maybe first we can go to dinner somewhere closer. Just us.” I sipped my wine and waited.
She studied me, clearly caught off guard. Her lips parted, and her eyes searched mine as if wondering if she’d heard me right.
“Officially,” I added. “A date.”
She blinked. “Are you asking me on a date right here on television?”
I smiled softly. “I am. Would you like to go?”
She touched her cheek and it was adorable. “I might be blushing.”
“Totally allowed.” In my peripheral I saw Scott’s mouth hanging open. Sherry stood off to the side watching in rapt amazement.
“I would love that,” she said, with a smile that matched mine. It was the end of our last segment, and it would fall to Carrie to wrap us up. She turned to the camera. “So it seems we’ve scored some wine tips, some details about Skyler Ruiz, and a date for the two of us. Stay tuned, San Diego. Next week we’ll explore the very best eats on Mission Beach. I’m Caroline McNamara, wishing you a happily hungry week ahead. Be good to your heart, and always seek out the secret sauce.”
We held for the wide shot, and when we were clear, production seemed to give us a minute, busying themselves with other tasks, keeping their distance. Carrie turned to me. “Did you mean that?”
I inclined my head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of girl who would take a punch just to get ratings?”
Thankfully, she laughed. “No. I know you’re not.”