Distraction? How about the way she was crossing her legs toward me? Or the way her thick dark lashes framed those light blue eyes? Or the way her bare shoulders seemed to shimmer a little in the bar’s low light? My skin felt hot beneath my suit. My shirt felt too tight on my chest, and the crotch of my pants was definitely snug.

I downed the rest of my drink and set the empty glass on the bar. “Could I have another?” I asked the bartender, loosening the knot in my tie.

Sylvia laughed. “Is it the prospect of spending more time with me?”

That actually made me crack half a smile. “You have no idea.”

* * *

Sylvia and I pretty much hid out in the bar all night. Occasionally one of us would get up—I’d bring back a plate of food for us, she’d check on the kids—but mostly we just stayed on those two stools at the end of the bar, drinking whiskey and wine, pretending we were the only two people in the room, maybe even in the world.

We talked a lot about the vineyard, the upcoming season, what happens at the winery during the winter, but also about vineyards she’d visited in California and Europe. We’d been to some of the same ones in northern France, and I told her about how I’d adapted some of the techniques I’d learned from working the harvest there. She listened attentively and asked intelligent questions, and I knew she’d learn quickly.

“Did you ever think about going into the wine industry after college?” I asked her.

“Not back then.” She swirled the wine in her glass. “I was going to be a photojournalist.”

“Really?”

“I wanted to travel the world and tell stories with pictures,” she announced grandly, making a sweeping gesture with her hand.

I sipped my whiskey. “What happened?”

She sighed. “I got married. Had a family. I don’t regret it, because my kids are the best thing that ever happened to me, but I do sometimes miss that feeling of being creative.”

“Do you still take pictures?”

“Not too much anymore. Nothing artistic anyway. Mostly I took them for social media, so I could continue fooling everyone into thinking my life was perfect.” She shook her head. “So stupid.”

I’d seen her photos on social media, and they had made her life look impossibly perfect. But still, she had an eye for beauty. “You should get back into it. Even if it’s just to be creative.”

She smiled and laughed softly. “Thanks. Maybe I will.”