Pure Seduction Frank, Ella (little readers .TXT) 📖

“There you go. Now go out and do something that makes you happy for a change. You’re too young to be so serious all the time.”

“You think so, old man?”

“I know so, and because I’m old, I’m gonna go to bed now. I’ll send you some resumés for your replacement over the next week or two.”

“Send away. I’ll try not to be too picky.”

“Just get me someone who knows what they’re doing. I don’t have time to teach a newbie anything other than where things are.”

“Got it. Now go and get your beauty sleep.”

We ended the call, and I tossed my phone down on the desk and thought about what Sergio had said: Go out and do something that makes you happy. My mind immediately went to Laurel and the fantastic dress she’d worn today. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn she was dressing to torment me with her penchant for sexy heels and those designer outfits that molded to every curve of her body.

But I did know better, and considering she’d done everything possible to avoid me this week, I’d had to be content with watching from afar whenever she came into a room.

It was probably for the best anyway—I’d been so busy trying to learn how Harry ran things that I’d barely had time to think beyond what had to be done next. But one thing I’d been acutely aware of was where and when Laurel was nearby. I’d kept my distance for the most part, only bothering her if I needed to know something.

She was good, too. She knew her job inside out, and the staff clearly adored her. Laurel ran the inner workings of the winery like a well-oiled machine, and I suddenly wondered if she was still here or if she’d gone home for the night.

I was about to get up and check, maybe see if I could finally convince her to go to dinner, when my office door opened and Ryan stuck his head inside.

“Hey, you done for the night? Want to hit Gallagher’s with me?”

I thought about my plan to track down Laurel.

“She’s already left for the night. It’s her Saturday off.” When I frowned, Ryan shook his head. “You know, the better option you’re thinking about? She’s gone.”

I got to my feet and scooped up my phone up. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone.”

“Uh huh.” Ryan leaned against the door. “That why you’re still looking over my shoulder after I already told you she left?”

“I’m not looking anywhere.” I grabbed my suit jacket off the coat rack in the corner and shrugged into it.

“You do know you don’t have to wear a suit every day now, right?”

I looked down at my clothes and then back to my jeans-and flannel-wearing brother. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing.” Ryan pushed off the door and moved out of the way so I could walk through. “Just seems a little formal for around here, don’t you think?”

“Hey, you don’t see me giving you shit about your one-stop shopping, do you?” Ryan shook his head. “Then keep your opinions about my suits to yourself.”

Ryan chuckled as we walked across the back deck. “My mistake. Didn’t realize you were so touchy about it.”

When we reached his truck and he popped the locks, I climbed inside. “I’m not touchy.”

“Sure seems that way. But maybe you have a point—the women in town haven’t shut up about you since you got back. So you must be doing something right.”

I wondered if that included Laurel. And if it did, would Ryan tell me? Not about to ask and look like some kind of dopey-eyed moron with a crush, I focused instead on where we were going. “This place Gallagher’s, it’s new?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah. When Marty passed, the Gallaghers bought the place and gave it a bit of a facelift. It needed it, so no one was complaining too hard.”

“Gallagher… Don’t know the name.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t. You weren’t around when they arrived. Justin’s tight with the son. Has been since his senior year. He’s the local mechanic now, Jameson.”

Ryan pulled into an empty spot around the back of the place, and the two of us climbed out and headed for the front entrance. It was busy tonight, which wasn’t surprising, since it was Saturday and this was the only bar in town, and when we walked inside and the live music and chatter met my ears, I began to second-guess my decision in coming.

Trying to think up a reason to beg off, I scanned the low-lit interior that was jam-packed with people. Ryan began to make his way through the crowd, who all greeted him with a friendly wave and smile, and when their attention shifted to me, those expressions changed to curiosity and, yep, judgment.

It was clear that just because I was a Chamberlin, that didn’t mean I wasn’t a stranger in town. These people didn’t know me. They might know of me, which was never a good thing. But I was still being treated to the warm welcome of a newbie in a town where everyone knew everyone.

When we reached the bar, Ryan snagged us two stools and gestured to the bartender while I looked around. Over in one corner the band was playing a U2 song, while the people in the booths laughed and sang along. The high-top tables scattered around the main floor were taken up by people drinking and talking amongst each other in a way that said this was a weekly thing, a social thing, and as I took in the sea of denim, flannel, and work boots, I understood what Ryan was getting at earlier—I stood out like a sore fucking thumb.

“Heya, Ryan, what’ll it be tonight?”

I turned back in time to see that a tall older man had stopped in front of us. He had salt-and-pepper hair, tanned, leathery skin, and laugh lines around his eyes—courtesy, no doubt, of the friendly smile on his