I don’t press because I guess the reason. It must be the vineyard reminds him of his broken marriage. He’s desperate to sell it. That’s one more reason I shouldn’t be on the trip and mess it up.
I take a deep breath and say, “Listen, Gavin. I think you should hire someone else. I have a classmate from college who speaks French fluently. If you want, I can give him a call. He lives in Sacramento, but I’m sure he’d be willing to help. He’s planning to come down here to see me next month but I could tell him to come sooner.”
Gavin’s smile fades somewhat. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“No!” I’m taken aback. “We’re just friends.”
He pauses for a moment, and says. “No, Ivy. I don’t want to hire anyone else to do the job. I want you to take it. I trust you. You need to build your confidence. Instead of shunning opportunities, you must learn to grab them. Here is what you should do before I see you next week: brushing up your French conversation skills. There must be apps or YouTube videos that help you with that. I’m sure you’re more familiar with these technologies than I do.”
I whimper. “But I sound horrible. What if I turn off your investor and ruin your deal?”
He smiles and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. No one will turn off the deal just because I don’t have an interpreter who isn’t a native French speaker.”
I gaze into his mesmerizing, deep-set brown eyes, my girly bits all tingling. My breathing turns rapid and my eyes fall on his firm, chiseled lips. Oh God! I wish I could kiss them!
“You’re trembling, you poor thing.” He chuckles and pulls me to him, patting me on the back. “Trust me, sweetheart, you can do it.”
I press my face into his hard chest and sniff his scent. I grasp his back tightly for a moment and say in a muffled voice. “Okay, Gavin. I’ll go with you.”
Chapter 4
Gavin
I smile when I see Ivy standing in front of her house in business attire. She’s wearing a ruffle front white shirt and a beige pencil skirt, looking even more mature than I last saw her. Her blue eyes reflect the cloudless azure sky. The two French braids she wears make her look youthful and professional at the same time. It flatters me, knowing she put in an effort to look good for me. I know how much time it takes a woman to her braid hair. Diana seldom did it.
“You look good, Ivy,” I say to her when I step out of my car to help her load her suitcase into the trunk of my SUV.
She blushes instantly and her cheeks flush. “Thank you,” she says, glancing at me. “You, too.”
I chuckle. Why is she so nervous around me? When she was a child, she used to welcome me with hugs. I loved her dearly. I used to wish I had a daughter just like her, but too bad Diana didn’t share my enthusiasm.
As soon as she sits down in the passenger seat, she pulls out her cell phone and swipes the screen. “You mind if I practice a bit on our way to the airport?”
I laugh. “No, not at all.” I’m pleased she takes my advice seriously.
She presses a button, and the voice of a French woman says, “Enchanté, Monsieur.” I take a moment to realize it means “nice to meet you.”
“Ong-chong-te, ong-chong-te,” Ivy repeats after the voice many times.
“You sound good,” I say. “I can’t tell any difference between your pronunciation and hers.”
“You think so?” she says, beaming at me. “I keep forgetting I should say “ong” instead of “in” like in English.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I’m sure they’ll get it.”
She’s going to keep practicing other phrases, but I stop her. “That’s enough, Ivy. I think you’ll do just fine. Now relax. You’re not taking a language exam.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes and puts the phone away.
“Tell me what your plans are,” I ask her as soon as she relaxes in her seat. “Your dad said you were going to work for his restaurant?
She nods uncertainly. “That’s the plan.”
“But you’ve got a college degree. I’m sure you’ve got skills other than French literature. You know how to use a computer, right?”
“Yes,” she answers in a small voice. “I even took a management class and did well. But I haven’t done any internship, so I can’t find any jobs in the business field.”
“I see. Well, then this is an opportunity for you.”
“That’s what Dad says,” she says. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Ivy. You could also work for me once I establish my next business. I’ll need a personal assistant.”
“Are you sure?” her eyes sparkle. “That’ll be awesome!”
I nod, liking the eagerness on her face.
It isn’t until minutes later I realize I’ve just made a rash promise. I’m not concerned about Ivy being inexperienced. She’s a smart girl and I have no doubt she’ll learn fast. She just has to work on her self-confidence and I can help her with that. But is it wise to hire my best friend’s daughter for a long-term position? I’m already having trouble with my attraction for her after seeing her just once. She was on my mind all the time for the past few days. Having her next to me every day is not going to work. As for now, my boner is straining in my pants, and my eyes keep moving toward her stocking legs, which won’t leave my peripheral vision. Her skirt rides up to above her knees, and I imagine cupping them and sliding my hand between them. Her curves under the buttoned shirt look tempting too.
Shit. I haven’t had such inappropriate thoughts about any woman for at least two years. After Diana left me, I didn’t pay attention to women at all, let alone having thoughts I about them. I felt so miserable and angry I avoided them out of resentment.
I met Diana about twelve years ago. I worked for an investment company and Diana taught part-time at a community college. We met through a mutual friend and married after dating for a year. After that, I never imagined living without her until she abandoned me for a lad ten years younger than her.
I was working my ass off to make our dream come true, but she threw it all away. The guy was a student in her class who rode a motorcycle and couldn’t even pay his rent. The two of them moved to LA because the guy wanted to become an actor.
When she said to me, “Money isn’t everything, Gavin,” I almost laughed. I felt like the biggest fool on earth. It’s why I hate the vineyard so much. If I hadn’t tried so hard with the business, perhaps I could’ve saved my marriage? But then again, I started it because of her. She complained about not being able to afford a house in the city with our “meager” salaries. She wished she could own a penthouse that overlooked the Golden Gate Bridge. When we went on a wine-tasting tour during our honeymoon, Diana said she wouldn’t mind owning a big farmhouse over there. I mistook her vanity for appreciation for the country life and decided to quit my job and start a vineyard. Looking back, it was foolish of me.
Even so, it’s ironic that she should blame me for working hard to provide for her. She must’ve forgotten how important material comfort was to her when we first married, or perhaps she had gotten so used to it she took it for granted. Either way, she must’ve been blinded by her lust for the young man. I grip the steering wheel and breathe hard.