Page 7 of Wild Abandon

“Hell no. You’re famous.” Jeremy gives me a bear hug, the kind where my arms are pinned to my sides and my chin is lifted in the air because I can’t move my neck. When he releases me, he walks to the back of the car and opens the hatch, peeking his head out from behind the open trunk. “Naomi even made a drinking game out of it.”

I spin around to face Naomi. “You did not.”

Her wide smile and small laugh show her guilt. “I take a shot every time you lick your lips or wink into the camera.”

I bow my head, slightly shaking it.

I starred in one low-budget music video in college and have regretted it ever since. No one—and I mean, no one—knows about it, except for Jeremy and Naomi, who seem to love torturing me each and every time I see them.

I dramatically point my finger in Naomi’s direction. “If you play that video even one time while I’m here, I’ll be back on a plane to New York.”

“I can’t make any promises,” her words sing as she walks quickly up the steps into the house.

Jeremy slams the trunk and lifts my suitcases off the ground. Cello case in hand, I open the door and walk into their home. The front door leads directly into the living room with a cathedral ceiling lined with wood beams. A small fireplace sits at the end of the room with a photo of the family of three hanging above. To the right is a dining room with a table for six, and beyond that is the kitchen with white cabinets and black granite. In between the kitchen and living room is a hallway that leads to the three bedrooms and one bathroom. One bedroom is for Naomi and Jeremy, the other is Scarlet’s, and the third is Naomi’s office, which is also where I’ll be staying.

Jeremy places the two suitcases on the futon I’ll be sleeping on, and Naomi opens the blinds, letting in the morning sun.

“The dresser is empty, and I made room in the closet for your clothes. If you need more room, just let me know, and I’ll try to find a place for the rest of my stuff.” Naomi motions toward the oak chest of drawers and the half-full closet on the adjoining wall.

It’s not a studio apartment in the Village, but it’ll work.

“It’s perfect,” I say.

She walks over to her desk and lifts a folder that was resting on top of the keyboard. “Scarlet and I have to run into Downtown Napa later. I have to sign a new contract with a winery that’s opening up. You wanna join us?”

I lean over her shoulder and look at one of the designs peeking out from the folder. Pulling it out, I admire the wine bottle label designs she created with bright, bold colors and imagery of women dancing in various fields of flowers. Each of the four labels on the page is unique and eye-catching. I would absolutely stop and check out the bottle if I saw it on a store shelf.

“Wow, Nay, these are stunning.”

She rolls her eyes and scrunches her lips together. Her dimples make an appearance, despite her control to hold them back. “So, you coming for a drive or no?” She takes the designs from my hand and walks toward the door.

“Yes, I’d love to check out Downtown. I’ll hang with Scarlet while you work.”

Naomi balks at me. “Scar is coming with me.”

“You bring your daughter to business meetings?”

“Hell yeah. She’s a better negotiator than I am!”

All I can do is nod in agreement. “I’m gonna unpack some things and get settled. Just come grab me when you’re ready.”

Naomi leaves the room, and I’m left in my new bedroom slash home office. Falling back onto the futon, I look out the window.

I am in California.

What the hell am I doing?

It’s going to take a little while for me to get used to this. Last night, I was eating takeout on the queen-size bed in my studio apartment, and today, I’m about twenty-nine hundred miles away, sitting on a futon.

It’s only six months.

I lean over and grab my iPhone out of my purse. I tap on the folder where I keep my dating apps. I click on the first one and see my message folder is lit up with the number thirty-two next to it. Thirty-two men have connected with me—and by connected, they think the auburn-haired girl in the photo is bangable.

My thumb rolls over to the Edit button. I mark all the connections and hit Delete, freeing me from the New York dating pool. Apparently, there are dating websites that are more popular in certain regions than others. I read that MatchDateLove.com is big right now in the northwest. I click Join and start the process of creating my new West Coast profile. The questions are a little overwhelming, but I know the answers to all of them by heart.

I lost my heart once to someone I fell for in a mad dash of love. The man for me has to be…perfect.

For some reason, I’m starting to have an odd feeling that meeting Mr. Right in Napa is going to be a long shot.