Free Nowhere but Here by Renee Carlino Page A

personality.
    We walked past a giant, red, tractorlike machine that was moving slowly down the row toward us. It was built to almost straddle the rows of vines. Guillermo gently grabbed my arm and pulled me into another row.
    “Let’s give the man some space.”
    Still looking back, I said, “What is that thing?”
    “It’s a mechanical harvester. We handpick a lot of our grapes, but we use a couple of those, too, to stay on schedule. Jamie made them more fuel-efficient.”
    “How do they work?”
    “They vibrate the vine. It’s sort of a delicate process for such a big, intimidating machine, but the vibration causes the cluster to drop from its stem and into a bin.”
    I spotted Jamie a couple of rows over. He had abandoned the flannel, and the reddish tattoos running down his left arm contrasted sharply against his white T-shirt. Even from that distance, I could see a gleam of sweat on his face and arms. He had added a plain black baseball cap and black sunglasses. Bad boy, good boy. Ahh!
    I stuck my hand up and waved, getting his attention. In that moment another worker handed him something so his hands were full, but he tilted his head back and kissed the air in my direction. I smiled giddily and then looked over to find Guillermo grinning.
    “Focus, mija .”
    I played it down by shrugging, like I had no idea what he was referring to.
    “Is it okay for Jamie to work like that with his diabetes?”
    “Oh yeah, of course. Exercise is good. It helps to naturally lower his blood sugar. That’s why Jamie is so fit.”
    “Yeah. Jamie is fit . . .”
    Guillermo raised one eyebrow. “I bet you want to see the grape crusher?”
    I laughed. “You’re damn right I do.”
    We walked into the quiet warehouse through a large, rolled-up metal door. Apparently the grapes that had been picked that day had not made it to the crusher yet because the warehouse was eerily quiet. Guillermo pointed to a stainless-steel square funnel with a large black machine attached to the bottom of it.
    “That’s it. One of the best. It’s the most gentle of all large-scale grape crushers. We tested out a few others but weren’t happy until we found this one.”
    Studying it, I walked around and took some mental notes, and then I thought about that episode of I Love Lucy when Lucy and the Italian woman stomp around the huge barrel, crushing the grapes with their bare feet.
    “I was really hoping to have a Lucille Ball moment while I was here.” I was half-joking, but I smiled to myself at the idea.
    A voice coming from behind startled me. “I think we can arrange that.” I turned to see Jamie, sweaty and gorgeous, leaning against the large doorway. Chelsea was sitting right at his heel, staring me down. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair and then replaced his hat again. As I watched him move, it was like time stood still. His motions slowed down, as if someone had turned a dial or pressed a button on the remote.
    “What do you mean, you can arrange that?”
    “Give me ten minutes.” And then he was gone. Guillermo looked down, shaking his head, trying to contain his laughter.
    “I think that’s it for me, mija . I have to get back to work. Do you have any questions?”
    “Yes, I have a million questions,” I said quickly.
    “I think Jamie can help answer most of them, he really knows his way around here.”
    I nodded. “Okay, it was so nice to meet you. Thank you.” I reached my hand out, and he shook it. “You’re welcome, mija .” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek in a familial way that made my heart warm.
    Jamie came in, rolling a barrel on its side. As he passed Guillermo, they nodded at each other. Chelsea plopped down in the corner on the cold concrete.
    “Katy, are you ready for this? He turned the barrel upright and removed the lid. I leaned over and inhaled a mixture of aromas. It was sweet and sour, earthy and oaky—a pungent but natural smell. I could see the glimmer of grapes at