The Charmed List by Julie Abe

Author:Julie Abe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Chapter 16

Paso Robles is known as one of the top wine areas of Central California, and the endless vineyards glowing in the slowly setting sun make it seem like an ocean of tangling, golden vines. Jack’s still inside the winery, finishing up another sales pitch. I’d lingered in the gift shop, but hadn’t found anything for Lia or my family or Cam, so when I caught a glimpse of the patio, I slipped out.

I’ve just stepped outside when a voice calls from behind me, “Wait, Ellie. Won’t you try this?”

It’s Mrs. Garcia, one of Mrs. Yasuda’s old friends, and the owner of this beautiful, Tuscan-style winery. She’s hurrying over, holding a glass with a thin pour of rosé, and Jack’s trailing behind her. “It’s our newest product, made with beautiful black grapes.”

I shouldn’t drink. I’ve got to—

“I can drive,” Jack offers immediately.

I stare at the frosty, perfectly chilled, pink-tinged glass in her hand. Back when I was ten, my parents let me try their red wine during one of our family picnics. I spat it out and immediately dove for ramune, my favorite soda.

But I’m not a kid anymore. I take the glass, thanking her as she and Jack head back inside to talk about orders.

On the patio, all alone, I stare down at the glass, trying to hide my apprehension and the conflicting thoughts.

I’m technically underage.

But my parents let me drink before.

Well, you do have another whole day with Jack.

I tip the glass over, and the chilled wine coats my mouth, sweet and fruity. I crack a grin. It’s the adult version of ramune.

“Wow,” I whisper. I snap a photo holding out the glass in front of the vines to try sketching later. I want to capture the streaks of sunset through the glass, even though it’ll be like trying to capture sand before it sifts out of my fingers. This would look good on my Instagram, too. If I ever make it public.

The door creaks open from behind me.

“Ready to head out?” Jack steps out onto the patio.

I blink, pulled away from my dreamland of art and paintbrushes. “Done already?”

He nods. “The Garcias loved the private line; our stuff always goes fast in their gift shop.”

We have to go. We’ve got to head to Pixley, a two-hour drive. But I can’t help soaking in the glow of the sunset, and the way it makes it seem like the world has been dusted with gold, cast under a spell. My fingers trace the patio railing longingly. I want to capture this sunlight in a bottle and create an elixir to bring up this feeling of eternal sunshine someday in the future. If I put on a pair of spectacles, I bet I’d see that even the raw magic dust is floating around gentle and lazy and beautiful.

Jack clears his throat. “Want to stay a little longer? We can take a few pictures. Or you can even draw, if you want.”

“It’s going to get dark soon.” I hesitate. We have

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