Virtuous(17)

“But if you sue every time they lie, maybe they’d stop lying.”

“As long as their lies sell papers and magazines and bring people to their websites and TV shows, they’ll keep doing it.”

“I can’t imagine what that must be like, to constantly have to read lies about yourself in the media.” She takes a sip of the wine and makes a satisfied noise that has everything male in me standing up to take notice. “Wow, that’s good.”

“I’m glad you like it.” I don’t mention that my partners and I own the vineyard. It had better be good. “And as for the lies, I mostly ignore them. I have lawyers on retainer to keep an eye out for particularly egregious lies, but for the most part, I don’t give them any of my time or energy.”

“What counts as a particularly egregious lie?”

“Last year, I sued a tabloid in the UK for insinuating that my nephew—my sister’s son—is actually my child because he looks like I did as a kid.”

She stares at me, her mouth agape. “Are you serious?”

“Afraid so.”

“I hope you sued their asses off.”

I laugh at her indignant reply and fall a little deeper into what’s happening between us. “I sued them and so did my sister and her husband. It was ugly, but we made it go away before Ian, my nephew, ever caught wind of it. Thank God for small favors. The settlement will pay his way to any college he wishes to attend.”

“It’s so disgusting and invasive. I’m sorry that happened to you and your family.”

“Thank you. I hate to say that we’re sort of used to it, but when you grow up with parents like ours, it seems to come with the territory. It’s gotten a lot worse in recent years. My mom says all the time that she would’ve lost her mind if it had been like it is now when she was starting out in the business.”

Natalie props her chin on her upturned fist. “Is she as fabulous as she seems?”

“More so.” My smile is genuine when I think of my feisty, funny, wonderful mother. “She’d like you.”

That seems to please her. “Really? How come?”

I take a seat on the stool beside hers, careful to make sure that no part of me is touching any part of her. “Because you’re passionate about your work and you have true purpose. She appreciates those qualities in people.”

“I do love my work. I wasn’t sure I would, but it’s amazing to feel like I’m really making a difference for my kids. At times I wonder how I’ll ever let them go when the school year ends. I’ve gotten rather attached.”

“They’re lucky to have such a devoted teacher.”

“I’m the lucky one. So many of the teachers I was in college with have gotten awful kids and worse parents. Mine are all so great. I’m told to enjoy it because no one gets that every year, but for now, there’s nothing not to love.”

“I bet all the little boys have mad crushes on Miss Bryant.”

“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I had the worst crush on my second-grade teacher, Mrs. Carole. She was so hot.”

“You’ve been a ladies’ man since you were seven, huh?”

“I like to think I have discerning taste,” I say with a wink that makes her laugh.

The intercom buzzing stops me from staring at her. I like when she laughs. I like it a lot. “Excuse me.” I cross the room to the elevator, where the intercom is located. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Godfrey. We have a delivery downstairs for you.”

“Send it up. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

While I wait by the elevator, I catch her looking at me. She seems embarrassed to have been caught and diverts her gaze. The elevator dings and opens to reveal a delivery woman I haven’t seen before. She must be new. She stares at me, agape, until I reach for the bags she’s carrying. I hand her a twenty-dollar tip and step back, letting the elevator close before she has time to recover.

The episode amuses me, but not as much as it amuses Natalie.

“That poor girl had no idea what hit her when those doors opened and you were standing there.”

“It happens.” I have absolutely no desire to talk about my fame or the weirdness that goes with it. In the kitchen, I plate the food and serve it to her at the bar. On a whim, I light a couple of candles and place them between our plates. “There. Almost as good as a five-star restaurant, but without the inevitable disruptions.”