Corked by Cabernet

Twenty-eight

THE night had been interesting on so many fronts. Nikki was tired but she wanted to write it all down and sort through her thoughts. Ollie climbed up next to her. “You’re getting spoiled,” she said. “Wait until your master gets home.” Thinking about Derek made her sad. She wished he’d call.

If there was anything at all to that “ask and you shall receive” verse, or the law of the universe stuff, then it must’ve been working because the phone rang and on the other end was Derek.

“It is so good to hear your voice. Why haven’t you called?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said, sounding exhausted.

“Of course I would. Is everything okay?”

“For the most part.” Derek’s voice sounded funny.

“Derek, what in the heck are you talking about?”

“I don’t think this thing between us and the Salvatores is going to work out.”

“Why? What gives?”

“Today, Vicente decides he wants to go to the Catskills. It’s freezing-ass cold and he wants to drive to the Catskills. Let me remind you that the biggest snowstorm ever is going on here.”

Uh-oh. He’d had a few drinks. Not like Derek to sound tipsy and even then some. He would often have a glass or two of wine in the evening, but never enough to make him slur. And he was definitely slurring tonight. “Uh-huh.”

“Right. We all get in the limo, and don’t ask me why I agreed to this. Right now I feel so stupid.”

“Who is ‘we all’?”

“Vicente, and get this, he has a bodyguard.”

“Is he in the mob?”

“I wonder. Total ass, though.”

“You’re kind of scaring me.” She scratched Ollie between his ears, reminding herself that there was nothing to be scared of with him right there.

“And his daughter was with us, too.”

“Sophia, right?” She jumped up and went straight for the computer. She’d forgotten to Google “Sophia Salvatore.” She kept the phone in the crook of her chin. Ollie did not follow her. Bad dog.

“Yeah, yeah. Her.”

“Oh.” Oh. Sophia Salvatore was listed on some site about Italian winery owners. The photo was small. She stood next to her father, but small or not, Nikki could tell she was gorgeous. Just as she’d thought. “What happened?”

“Okay, so we get halfway there, going as slow as can be, and even the bodyguard is trying to explain to Vicente that we should go back to the city, but you think that old fart is listening to anyone else? No. Claims he’s on his death bed practically and may never get back here and something about his aunt who moved to the Catskills when he was a boy and he wanted to go back because he’d spent a summer with her before she died and it was the best time of his life. Talk about sentimental.” Man, was Derek rambling tonight.

“Oh, Derek.”

“It gets better. We get out and the driver gets lost, and the next thing I know, we start having car trouble and the driver has to pull over. He calls his dispatch service and they tell him it’s gonna be at least two hours before anyone can get out there. So, we’re sitting there with the heater on, and I’m still trying to make a deal with this guy, and all he wants to do is drink port and shove his daughter on me while telling me I need to marry her.”

Nikki’s hands folded into fists. “He what? That-”

“I know. Don’t get yourself all worked up.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you and only you. Finally, after something like three hours or more… God, I don’t know, I lost track of time… but finally some guy pulls over in an old pickup and offers help. About that time another limo pulls up for the Salvatores. I was three sheets to the wind by then, and I told Vicente to forget the deal. He was too difficult to work with and I didn’t want to marry his daughter. I paid the guy who stopped to help us two hundred dollars to drive me back to Manhattan. I just got back here.”

“Oh, no.” Nikki tried not to laugh.

“How about you? How was your day? Tell me they caught whoever murdered Iwao. I’m hoping I can get out of here in the morning. They’re saying there’s a chance.”

“No. They actually don’t have a suspect yet.”

“Hmmm.”

She couldn’t tell him now about Mizuki. Not after the day he had, and he sounded like he needed to go to bed. “Gosh, it must be two o’ clock in the morning there.”

“Don’t I know it. I’m worried about you, and I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but you don’t have to worry. I have Ollie at my side.”

“Yeah. Good. How is the boy?”

Nikki removed herself from the desk and went back into the bedroom, sliding in between the covers. “He’s good.”

“You in bed?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Nice. I wish I was there. What are you wearing?” he asked.

“Well, um. It’s lacy and blue and very pretty.” She was never good at this kind of thing, and lacy, blue, and pretty wasn’t even close to what she had on.

“Liar.”

“I know.”

“I know what you’re wearing. You’re wearing one of my old T-shirts and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms.”

“Nope. I have your boxers on.”

He cracked up. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“You better get some sleep.”

“You, too. I love you, Nikki.”

“I love you, too.”

A few minutes after they’d hung up, Nikki thought about getting back up and writing down her thoughts about the night. Instead she opted for falling asleep, knowing that there was a man a few thousand miles away, a man who really loved her, who was keeping her warm with his words.