Drunk on Love(54)

He turned to walk away. Then he turned back.

“I hate those things, you know. The auctions.”

She had no idea.

“No, I didn’t know,” she said.

He nodded quickly.

“Makes me feel like a vulture, grabbing up everything from a winery, from people who tried their best and failed. It just makes me think . . . I’m always in a bad mood, after. I thought maybe bringing you along would help, but I . . .”

Her phone buzzed, and Elliot took a step back.

“You’re busy, you probably have to get that. Talk to you later.” He walked away, and left Margot staring after him.

Was that his attempt at an apology? If so, it actually did make her feel a bit better about Sunday. And explained why things had felt good between them early in the day, and it had all gone south later.

At the end of the day, she stood in her office, staring at the wall she’d devoted to the party, with her many lists, the old plan, and her own bad sketch of what the property would look like, so she could envision the layout of the party.

Taylor knocked on her open door.

“I think we’re done for the day, boss, if you— What are you staring at?”

Margot laughed.

“Just trying to figure out how I’m going to arrange everything, and what the schedule is going to be. We’re only a month out now, and I know that sounds like a lot of time, but . . .”

Taylor stared at the wall.

“This has gotten significantly more complex since the last time I saw it. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared out the door and came back a few minutes later, with Luke and Marisol in tow. “You guys, look at this wall!”

“This wall has really . . . expanded over the past few weeks,” Marisol said.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Taylor said. “Has Elliot seen this? It’s incredible.”

“Is this your conspiracy wall?” Luke asked. “All you need are little red and green and blue strings to connect all the dots, and . . .”

“Enough out of you three.” Margot fought back a grin. “But, if you know where to get strings like that . . . just let me know.”

They all laughed. Margot met Luke’s eyes, just for a second, and they grinned at each other. Motherfuck, that grin of his was dangerous. Margot swung her eyes back to the wall.

“Now that I have you three in here, you might as well help me with something. Okay: The party is over a three-hour time period—ideally, there will be plenty of food for at least the first two hours. The goal is to have people be able to taste a variety of different things, so there will be reasons for them to stay and chat and taste more wine and then also buy more wine. These are the potential food choices, and I have to decide on them soon.” Margot gestured to the list on her second whiteboard. “We want them staggered, not ready all at once. I want everything to work together, but also not be too similar, and to have a good variety—for vegetarians, et cetera—and I can’t decide. I’ve been staring at this board for hours, please help.”

“This sounds like a standardized-test problem.” Luke rubbed his hands together. “I loved those.”

Everyone in the room turned and stared at him.

“What?” he said. “I was a real dork in high school. I think we’ve established that?”

Taylor and Marisol burst out laughing, and Luke grinned at them. Margot felt a stab of jealousy at the way they all laughed together, at their casual ease with one another, at this inside joke she wasn’t a part of.

Oh no. She wasn’t jealous of Taylor and Marisol because she thought there was anything going on with either of them and Luke—she was jealous because they got to talk to him all day, they got to hear his stories, they got to know him better. That time in the car hadn’t been enough for her. She wanted more.

She cleared her throat.

“Well, then, it seems like I’ve come to the right place,” she said. “Any ideas?”

Luke looked at the board for a moment and then turned to her.

“Do you have any index cards? We need index cards.”

Index cards. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

“You’re brilliant.”

Margot grabbed a pack of index cards from her supply closet and tossed them to Taylor, who wrote all of the options down and put them up on the corkboard.

“Tacos should go second,” Marisol said. “You don’t want them first—you want everyone smelling them for a while and getting hungry, especially those people who planned to just stop in for a minute on their way to somewhere else. Then they’ll stay, and eat tacos, and taste more wine. And buy more wine.”

“Okay, but where does that put the wood-fired pizza?” Luke asked.

They debated and argued about the food for the next ten minutes, as Margot moved the cards around. And then, finally . . .

“I think we have a lineup,” she said, with a smile at the corkboard and another at her staff. “Everyone happy with it?”

They all nodded, satisfied smiles on their faces.

“Good job, team,” Margot said. “Thanks for your help, I never would have managed that without you. Now, everybody, go home, it’s late.”

They all grinned at her as they left her office.

“That was fun,” Marisol said.