It’s the Day of the Wine Night, and I’m walking out of the Curly Cue Salon, where Holly Sparks has just trimmed off about a month’s worth of dead ends from my hair. I feel bouncier than usual, like a shampoo ad girl walking down a street and attracting glances because her hair is so shiny and hot.

It’s kind of fun being Shampoo Girl.

I pass the tourists, newbie residents, and old-timers milling around on Main Street in front of places like the Burger Bomb, the artisanal taco shop, and the Screaming Beans coffeehouse, then I cross the road to Rainier Street. I’m meeting my sister and Penny Burnett at Hana Sushi for lunch. Grace and I don’t go to this new, trendy, out-of-towner place much, mainly because we don’t have the time, but with Milton’s closed we sure have a few extra minutes to play around with now. Besides, we’ve found that the more exotic offerings at Hana, such as the uni plate, fits our tastes. What a big surprise that the sea urchin gonad dish would be a hit with the Milton twins. It’s just that we usually like our balls fried, not raw.

I stroll into the restaurant, where geisha art and small waterfalls provide a serene atmosphere. Employees from the downtown businesses crowd the tables, but Grace and Penny already have a spot, and they wave me over.

Penny’s gaze is filled with that I’m-in-love glow that seems to be attacking Cherry Valley lately. Just ask Abby Peters, who writes a whole blog about romance in this town: Penny and Barry Aaronson were the second featured couple in it. Penny’s glow also seems to extend to her reddish hair that’s swept off her neck, and she’s wearing a fashionable spring dress that probably came from Paris, where Barry just took her on a kind of honeymoon before the honeymoon, or even before a proposal, for that matter. Believe me, we’re still waiting for a marriage to go down between those two, but in the meantime, Penny and her Full Circle Technologies prince are whooping it up together.

As I sit down, Penny is all smiles and big eyes. “Your hair! It looks fabulous! Holly did it, right?”

I touch the soft, gently curled layers. “Thanks. Yeah, she did.”

Grace laughs and pushes a hank of her straight hair over her shoulder. “Awesome. Now people will be able to tell us apart in a jiff.”

Penny gives me a coy look. “You got your hair done especially for the big night?”

Aaaaaand … here we go.

Thank God our waitress stops by to take our drink orders. As Grace and Penny ask for weird Japanese cream fruit sodas, I go for some water, because my stomach is too bunched up and nervous about tonight to deal with anything else. Then, after our server leaves, I steer the subject away from Quinn, even though I know Penny is dying to hear about him.

“Now that our diner is being updated, I barely know what to do with myself. I actually got a full eight hours of sleep last night, and I’ve been reading like a fool.”

Penny sighs. “Ever since I quit my job at FCT and started building my online collectibles business with Barry, I’ve forgotten the definition of sleep. And not only because of work, wink wink, nudge nudge.”

I see my sister revving up to say something that will no doubt lead us back to Wine Night, but I Graceblock her. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve taken a stroll in Jamboree Park? Maybe years. I forgot what it’s like after the ladies’ auxiliary plants hearty annuals for the season. The flowers are blooming and the cherry trees are blossoming. I only became aware today that springtime is here.”

Grace slides right in. “That’s because the horniness in you is awakening, and it’s all because of—”

“Hi, girls!”

Emi Nakamura, the co-owner of Hana Sushi and the executive chef, saves my ass. She obviously spotted us from behind the counter where the other cooks are efficiently working. Her smile is friendly, and her brown hair is fixed in a neat bun. She’s wearing her chef whites and a rolled bandana that’s tied behind her head.

We all say hi back, and my greeting is gushier than everyone else’s. She’s not always going to be here to rescue me from questions about Quinn, but I’ll take what I can get for now. She beams at us, and I think she puffs up with some pride whenever she sees fellow restaurant people like Grace and me in her place. With us, it’s a sushi-versus-fried-redneck-animals friendly competition sort of thing. She’s even made it into Milton’s a few times herself.

“I was sorry to hear about the diner,” she says. “When is it opening again? Other customers have mentioned it, so I’d like to tell them.”

Her kindness doesn’t stun me, because that’s how Cherry Valley rolls. She’s a newcomer from the Bay Area in California, but she gets how we operate here in this town.

Grace says, “We’ll reopen in no more than a few weeks, thanks for asking. Meanwhile, we’re staying busy. For instance, Gwen here will be snarfing down sushi today and then wine tonight.”

“Oh?” Emi glances at me. “Gwen, I didn’t think you were into wine.”

Penny and Grace share a laugh. Dorks.

As our waitress brings our beverages, Grace accepts her white peach soda and keeps chatting with Emi like I’m not here. “If there’s been one good thing about the fire at Milton’s, it’s that Gwen is breaking bad. She’s got a hot date tonight. Do you see how she got her hair done to impress him?”

“A date?” Emi says. “I can’t even seem to get one of those lately. Who’s the guy?”

Penny and Grace go stereo. “Quinn Maxwell!” Then Grace adds, “The contractor from Marloe who’s working at the Climax winery. He’s giving her a sneak preview of the wine this evening, wink wink, nudge nudge.”

Penny laughs.

“Thanks, spaz,” I say through my teeth to my sister. But I’m not totally pissed off. I’m only acting like it, because the thing is, now that I’ve gotten some sleep, the world seems more accessible in some way. I might even be capable of having fun. Or maybe not, because every time I even think of letting loose slightly tonight, I panic a bit.

Emi has to go back to work, but before she does, she takes our orders, telling us she’s going to see to our dishes personally.

After she’s gone, Penny turns to me. “So you’re updating the diner.”

“Yes, we are.” Bless her heart for taking it easy on me. Even so, I don’t want to be too obvious about the excitement I’ve developed over the past couple of days about a facelift. And I’m sure as hell not going to tell anyone how relieved I am that Quinn has lived up to everything he promised so far. He hasn’t even flirted with me, which kind of miffs me, even though it makes him a professional and I can respect that. Maybe he’s waiting to unleash the flirt on me tonight …

I shift in my seat, calming myself down. Sure, Quinn has been a tad remote with me lately, but what if he goes back on what he said and expects more from me than just drinking wine? You never know with men, especially certain kinds. Especially kinds with tattoos running up their fine arms and with a pussy-eating grin.

Shit, if he turns out to be that kind of jerk, then I’m stuck with him as a contractor …

Grace and Penny are giving me the what-the-everlovin’-hell eye, and I take my napkin, smoothing the linen over my lap as if I’ve already moved past all thoughts of tonight.

“Gwen,” Grace says softly as she leans over the table.

I look up at her, making my Medusa face.

“You’re more than a hot mess. You’re a confused fiasco.”

Penny only nods, and as I look at the two of them — the girls who’ve always been my bar buddies, even if I’m the designated driver to their Hootenanny Heidis — I break down a little.

“It’s just …” I sigh anxiously. “What does a person even wear to a winery? Even ones that aren’t open yet?”

“Well,” Grace says, “normally I’d counter that question with the Golden Date Rule.”

Penny catches on. “You shouldn’t be asking yourself what to put on as much as how much you’re willing to take off at the end of the date.”

“It’s not really a date.” I’m clinging to any piece of resistance available at this point. “I’m basically whoring myself out for the sake of the family business.”

“Hah!” Grace says. “Tell me another one. From where I sit, you’re practically bursting at the seams with repressed excitement, just like in those fusty books you keep on your nightstand.”

Penny joins in. “Face it, Gwen — you need someone assertive like I hear this Quinn guy is, or else nothing will ever get your panties on the floor again.”

Grace raises her finger. “You are in epic need of a Climax in your life, and we ain’t talking about no winery.”

She and Penny crack up at that, and I shake my head, even if there’s a part of me that wants to laugh. Being around these two, it’s getting harder and harder to fight it.

“Yeesh, Gwen,” Grace says. “You’re not prostituting yourself like a character in … what’s it called? Les Mis-a-blab—?”

“You saw the musical in Marloe and you know very well it’s called Les Miserables—”

“—and, in fact, Quinn’s helping us out, so show some damned gratitude, for crying out loud!”

Penny will not be outdone. “While you’re at it, show some leg, some thigh, and some goods to him, too. You will be so happy come morning.”

Yeah, these tarts are on a roll, and I sit back in my chair and wait for them to finish laughing it up.

When they do, I jerk my chin at Grace. “In all seriousness, did you see Mom yesterday when she got a load of Quinn’s tattoos? She didn’t get judgy or anything, but I’ve been wondering if she’s as much of a cheerleader about him now as you are.”

“Oh, brother.” Grace rolls her eyes. “Now you’re just making embarrassing excuses. Mom knows that neither one of us is ever going to end up with a monster like Dad.”

We all go quiet for a moment, then Penny tries to lighten things up.

“Gwen, you’ve got this. You’re going to dazzle tonight.”

I smile wanly, because the closer I get to tonight with every tick of each clock in Cherry Valley, the more my belly somersaults. Maybe I really don’t want to drink wine or put on my “date face” or psyche myself up for all the games people play when they’re alone.

Oh, fuck, I’m going to be alone and drinking wine with Quinn soon.

Penny shoots Grace a concerned glance, and Grace sighs. “I’ll tell you what, Gwen. I’ll help you choose the right clothes for tonight. I’ll drive you to that winery, and I’ll even pick you up later if Dirk the Lyft guy is busy.”

“Oy,” Penny says. “Barry’s told me about Dirk.”

Dirk is a mountain guy who likes moonshine, speeding, and displaying dashboard toys that feature horny, pelvis-thrusting monkeys. He’s a real keeper.

Grace is staring at me. She’s absolutely serious now. “If you don’t want to go, don’t go. You shouldn’t be freaking out like this.”

“I …” Kind of want to go, though. Just an itty-bitty part of me, the curious side of Gwen, the girl who never gets out from all the layers of grease that she’s buried herself under in the diner. That’s the Gwen who really wants to do this. But the other part of me is still bitching about getting into this situation in the first place, even if Quinn is hotter than hellfire.

Both girls are watching me, but the Gwen who never backs down only shrugs back at them.

“I’ll go,” I say. And at the end of the night, after I’ve taken a couple sips of wine and fulfilled my part of this bargain with Quinn, I’ll head on home to curl up with one of my books.

All I need to do is get through an hour or so, then I’m out of there.