Anything for You
Page 28
Growing up in the shadow of the Hill, in the grubbiest trailer in the trailer park, Jess never lost the slight rush of nervousness when she went to work.
She unlocked the big oak doors and went in, through the gorgeous tasting room, named one of the prettiest tasting rooms in America by Wine Spectator, past the racks of Blue Heron wine, hundreds of gold-foil logos winking in the light. The gift shop sold everything wine-related you could imagine—T-shirts and corkscrews, glassware and cheeseboards, dishcloths printed with grape leaves, mugs and wine charms.
Just past the tasting room was the corridor to the office wing. Jess’s desk was in front of Honor’s office. She liked being almost a watchdog for her boss. Honor was kind of perfect—calm, smart, able to delegate, complimentary when someone did a good job, helpful and informative if someone was stuck.
If Jess ever got fired, it’d kill her. She had it made here. She’d been working here since last winter, her first job in marketing, her first nine-to-five job ever. Honor was the vice president of operations for the vineyard, which meant she did everything outside of farming the grapes and making the wine. She ran sales, distribution, special events, marketing, PR and supervised all their employees. As her assistant, Jess did whatever Honor said. Sometimes it was give a tour of the wine-making operation, sometimes it was organize an event, write a press release, handle an event at the Barn, which took up more and more of her time these days. Whatever Honor asked, Jess made damn sure she did it right, fast and well.
It was still thrilling, being able to work behind a desk. To write things and come up with ideas for the vineyard, sit in on meetings and make suggestions that her boss took nine times out of ten. A far cry from waiting tables, though she still did that a few nights a week at Hugo’s.
All of the Hollands worked for the vineyard in one capacity or another—Honor’s older sister, Prudence, was the farmer. Her brother, Jack Holland, was the head winemaker, along with Mr. Holland and old Mr. Holland. Ned Vanderbeek, Prudence’s son, was now the fourth generation of the family to be working at the winery. He handled about a third of the vineyard’s sales and was one of the few who actually used his office. The other Hollands were always off in the fields or barns.
Honor’s sister Faith, who was married to Levi Cooper, didn’t officially work for the vineyard, but she was the one who’d renovated the crumbling stone barn, and she was here quite often, checking the plantings up there and visiting her family.
The Hollands were a tight-knit clan, always coming in and out, bickering amiably, having family dinners and weddings and baptisms, holiday meals and vineyard events. You never saw one without at least one other.
It was the type of family Jessica would’ve sold her left lung for. She only had Davey. No cousins, no grandparents, no aunts and uncles. Her mother had had a brother who died in high school, the start of Mom’s drinking problems. Somewhere, maybe, her father was still alive. Otherwise, no one.
Well. She did have Davey. Last night, he’d brought her outside to hear a crow call. The bird had been sitting on a telephone wire, yacking away, and Davey thought it was the funniest thing ever, and they’d sat on the back steps, just listening to the crow, Davey giggling till tears ran down his face, until it got too dark for the bird.
People often thought—wrongly—that she was a saint for taking Davey in, for not putting him in a home. They didn’t know about how much he gave her back. A smile from him, a drawing, his joy over a really good cookie...those things lifted her heart like nothing else.
* * *
JESS WAS WORKING on some press for Blue Heron’s upcoming events when Honor walked in, her tiny dog poking its head from Honor’s purse.
“Morning, Honor,” she said. “And good morning, Spike.” She petted the dog’s tiny head. “Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, thanks, I’m good,” Honor said, setting Spike on the floor. “How was your weekend?”
Kind of crappy, Jess thought. My boyfriend proposed. Don’t you hate when that happens? “It was great. How about yours?”
“Very nice. Can you come in my office for a minute?”
Jessica did as she was told. Shit. Adrenaline needled through her knees. She was about to be fired. Her throat locked, and her face felt hot, but she took a seat in front of Honor’s sleek, tidy desk, her mind racing. She had health insurance here, for both her and Davey. She had vacation time, not that she used any. The pay was really solid. Where else would hire her? Would—
“I’ll get right to it,” Honor said with a smile. “You’ve been promoted.”
Jess’s mouth fell open. “What? Really?”
“You deserve it. Congratulations. Hiring you was the best move my father ever made.”
“Honor! I— Thank you!” Jess’s cheeks were on fire, her legs limp with relief. “Um...promoted to what?”
“In a nutshell, you’ll be taking over most of the PR and marketing. You’re good at it. Better than I am, really.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“And the Barn is just too busy for you to handle, on top of everything else you do.” She didn’t say anything for a minute. “Can you keep a secret? What am I saying? Of course you can.” She smiled. “I’ll be needing some time off in about seven months.”
“Oh, Honor! Congratulations!” Jess jumped up and hugged her boss, then, a little embarrassed, sat back down. Honor and Tom had been married almost a year. Jess was very fond of him, and Charlie, his not-quite stepson who’d come to live with them a little while back.
A baby. For a second, longing surged hard and strong. Then she cut it off. No point in going there.
Honor smiled. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? So much can happen in the first couple months, and you know my family. And with Charlie still being a little new here, I want to keep it quiet for as long as I can.”
“Gotcha. I’ll keep good thoughts.”
“Thanks. Anyway, remember we were talking about hiring an event planner at our staff meeting last month?” Honor asked. Jess nodded. “Well, I put out a feeler, and then a couple weeks ago, I met someone in the city when I was doing sales calls. Everything fell into place, and she starts today. I forgot to tell you. Pregnancy brain, I guess.”
“Wow. Okay, great!”
“Her name’s Marcy Hannigan. She’s got great references, and with the season picking up, I figured we’d get her started as soon as possible. And now you’ll get to do more real marketing and less dealing with hysterical brides.”
“I don’t know how to say thank you,” Jess said. “But thank you.”
“Thank you,” Honor said. “You know how...particular I am about things, and you’re the only one I don’t feel the urge to micromanage.”
“I resent that,” said a voice from the doorway. Ned, late as usual, adorable as usual, too. “And the word is anal-retentive, not particular.”
Honor smiled. “Hush, child, the grown-ups are talking. And you don’t want Jess’s job. You’re doing great in sales.”
“My good looks and charm?” he suggested, winking at Jess.
“Exactly,” Honor said. “Now go.” Ned obeyed. “So the new position,” Honor continued. “You’re our first ever director of marketing.” She handed a paper across the desk. Jess glanced at it; in typical Honor fashion, it was numbered and bulleted, outlining her new duties.
She unlocked the big oak doors and went in, through the gorgeous tasting room, named one of the prettiest tasting rooms in America by Wine Spectator, past the racks of Blue Heron wine, hundreds of gold-foil logos winking in the light. The gift shop sold everything wine-related you could imagine—T-shirts and corkscrews, glassware and cheeseboards, dishcloths printed with grape leaves, mugs and wine charms.
Just past the tasting room was the corridor to the office wing. Jess’s desk was in front of Honor’s office. She liked being almost a watchdog for her boss. Honor was kind of perfect—calm, smart, able to delegate, complimentary when someone did a good job, helpful and informative if someone was stuck.
If Jess ever got fired, it’d kill her. She had it made here. She’d been working here since last winter, her first job in marketing, her first nine-to-five job ever. Honor was the vice president of operations for the vineyard, which meant she did everything outside of farming the grapes and making the wine. She ran sales, distribution, special events, marketing, PR and supervised all their employees. As her assistant, Jess did whatever Honor said. Sometimes it was give a tour of the wine-making operation, sometimes it was organize an event, write a press release, handle an event at the Barn, which took up more and more of her time these days. Whatever Honor asked, Jess made damn sure she did it right, fast and well.
It was still thrilling, being able to work behind a desk. To write things and come up with ideas for the vineyard, sit in on meetings and make suggestions that her boss took nine times out of ten. A far cry from waiting tables, though she still did that a few nights a week at Hugo’s.
All of the Hollands worked for the vineyard in one capacity or another—Honor’s older sister, Prudence, was the farmer. Her brother, Jack Holland, was the head winemaker, along with Mr. Holland and old Mr. Holland. Ned Vanderbeek, Prudence’s son, was now the fourth generation of the family to be working at the winery. He handled about a third of the vineyard’s sales and was one of the few who actually used his office. The other Hollands were always off in the fields or barns.
Honor’s sister Faith, who was married to Levi Cooper, didn’t officially work for the vineyard, but she was the one who’d renovated the crumbling stone barn, and she was here quite often, checking the plantings up there and visiting her family.
The Hollands were a tight-knit clan, always coming in and out, bickering amiably, having family dinners and weddings and baptisms, holiday meals and vineyard events. You never saw one without at least one other.
It was the type of family Jessica would’ve sold her left lung for. She only had Davey. No cousins, no grandparents, no aunts and uncles. Her mother had had a brother who died in high school, the start of Mom’s drinking problems. Somewhere, maybe, her father was still alive. Otherwise, no one.
Well. She did have Davey. Last night, he’d brought her outside to hear a crow call. The bird had been sitting on a telephone wire, yacking away, and Davey thought it was the funniest thing ever, and they’d sat on the back steps, just listening to the crow, Davey giggling till tears ran down his face, until it got too dark for the bird.
People often thought—wrongly—that she was a saint for taking Davey in, for not putting him in a home. They didn’t know about how much he gave her back. A smile from him, a drawing, his joy over a really good cookie...those things lifted her heart like nothing else.
* * *
JESS WAS WORKING on some press for Blue Heron’s upcoming events when Honor walked in, her tiny dog poking its head from Honor’s purse.
“Morning, Honor,” she said. “And good morning, Spike.” She petted the dog’s tiny head. “Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, thanks, I’m good,” Honor said, setting Spike on the floor. “How was your weekend?”
Kind of crappy, Jess thought. My boyfriend proposed. Don’t you hate when that happens? “It was great. How about yours?”
“Very nice. Can you come in my office for a minute?”
Jessica did as she was told. Shit. Adrenaline needled through her knees. She was about to be fired. Her throat locked, and her face felt hot, but she took a seat in front of Honor’s sleek, tidy desk, her mind racing. She had health insurance here, for both her and Davey. She had vacation time, not that she used any. The pay was really solid. Where else would hire her? Would—
“I’ll get right to it,” Honor said with a smile. “You’ve been promoted.”
Jess’s mouth fell open. “What? Really?”
“You deserve it. Congratulations. Hiring you was the best move my father ever made.”
“Honor! I— Thank you!” Jess’s cheeks were on fire, her legs limp with relief. “Um...promoted to what?”
“In a nutshell, you’ll be taking over most of the PR and marketing. You’re good at it. Better than I am, really.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“And the Barn is just too busy for you to handle, on top of everything else you do.” She didn’t say anything for a minute. “Can you keep a secret? What am I saying? Of course you can.” She smiled. “I’ll be needing some time off in about seven months.”
“Oh, Honor! Congratulations!” Jess jumped up and hugged her boss, then, a little embarrassed, sat back down. Honor and Tom had been married almost a year. Jess was very fond of him, and Charlie, his not-quite stepson who’d come to live with them a little while back.
A baby. For a second, longing surged hard and strong. Then she cut it off. No point in going there.
Honor smiled. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? So much can happen in the first couple months, and you know my family. And with Charlie still being a little new here, I want to keep it quiet for as long as I can.”
“Gotcha. I’ll keep good thoughts.”
“Thanks. Anyway, remember we were talking about hiring an event planner at our staff meeting last month?” Honor asked. Jess nodded. “Well, I put out a feeler, and then a couple weeks ago, I met someone in the city when I was doing sales calls. Everything fell into place, and she starts today. I forgot to tell you. Pregnancy brain, I guess.”
“Wow. Okay, great!”
“Her name’s Marcy Hannigan. She’s got great references, and with the season picking up, I figured we’d get her started as soon as possible. And now you’ll get to do more real marketing and less dealing with hysterical brides.”
“I don’t know how to say thank you,” Jess said. “But thank you.”
“Thank you,” Honor said. “You know how...particular I am about things, and you’re the only one I don’t feel the urge to micromanage.”
“I resent that,” said a voice from the doorway. Ned, late as usual, adorable as usual, too. “And the word is anal-retentive, not particular.”
Honor smiled. “Hush, child, the grown-ups are talking. And you don’t want Jess’s job. You’re doing great in sales.”
“My good looks and charm?” he suggested, winking at Jess.
“Exactly,” Honor said. “Now go.” Ned obeyed. “So the new position,” Honor continued. “You’re our first ever director of marketing.” She handed a paper across the desk. Jess glanced at it; in typical Honor fashion, it was numbered and bulleted, outlining her new duties.
