The Winemaker

by Charmaine Pauls

  “What’s going on, Emmie? I don’t like people going through my laptop.”

  Emmie gave her an apologetic smile. “Etán asked me to do some stuff. I didn’t know you’d be in this early.”

  Zenna propped the flask onto her desk. “I’m always in early.”

  “You’ve been otherwise occupied lately.”

  Zenna cocked her hip. “Why don’t you just say that I’ve been doing hocus pocus stuff in the house with Margarita?”

  Emmie giggled at the description. “Whatever, Witch of Eastwick, but I’m still working for Etán. I can’t exactly tell him to take a hike when he dishes out the orders around here.”

  Zenna walked around her desk and peeped over Emmie’s shoulder. “So what’s so important it couldn’t wait?”

  Emmie tried to close the screen she had been working on, but the printer next to her starting humming with the pages she had just requested from Zenna’s computer. Before Emmie could react, Zenna snatched the first page from the printer, and scanned over it.

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What the hell...?”

  Emmie moved the chair back. “Uh oh. This is not going to be good.”

  Zenna flicked the piece of paper under her nose. “Who requested this?” she demanded angrily.

  Emmie held up her hands. “Hey, it wasn’t me. Speak to the boss.”

  Zenna took the second page from the printer. “That is exactly what I am going to do.” She dropped her shoulder sling bag onto the desk and marched from the building, straight back to the house.

  Etán looked up from his desk as Zenna barged through the door of his suite.

  “What is the meaning of this?” She waved the papers in the air.

  Etán’s eyes roamed slowly over her, taking in the tight fitting, black knitted top and the black slacks that clung around her hips and thighs, accentuating the sensual curves of her soft body. Her skin looked rosy, as if she’d just stepped from the shower. Her hair was pulled back from her face, leaving her eyes flashing with anger, exposed and open for his stare. She wasn’t wearing any make-up, except for some lip-gloss, and the memory of the taste of her lips almost had him licking his.

  He had been upset when she walked away from him last night, but the more he had thought about it during the course of the night, alone in bed, the more he believed she was lying. Zenna had become good at hiding her emotions from him. There was a tinge of aniseed in the air when she said she was happy. Zenna wasn’t as happy as declared she was. Maybe there was still hope for him. He had to try. Or not be able to live with himself.

  Etán looked at her like she was lunch, and it infuriated her more. “Don’t look so amused. I demand an explanation.”

  He slowly turned his swivel chair to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should learn to knock before barging into my room like this. I could have been in the shower,” he said with a wicked grin.

  Zenna had no intentions of being sidetracked. She marched up to him, stopping short of stepping on his toes. She pushed the papers under his nose.

  He took it leisurely, allowing their fingers to touch, before he looked at the content that had upset her so. He took his time to read it, even if Zenna was sure he knew every word.

  Finally, he looked up. “It’s a translation of your press release,” he said, smiling sweetly.

  Zenna propped her hands on her hips. “It’s crap! May I ask why, if this is supposed to be my job, did you contract a freelancer for this piece of art?”

  He swiveled the chair from side to side, apparently enjoying her annoyance. “Because you are tied up elsewhere.”

  She wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “Does that mean you don’t need my services any longer? Because then you should tell me so to my face and terminate my contract.”

  He pulled his face into an expression of mock concern. “Of course I need you. I just need you more to focus on your work with Margarita.”

  She stamped her foot. “I’m no charity case. I’ve told you that before. If you can’t use me or feel confident I can get the job done, regardless of what’s happening in my private life, then fire me. Or I’ll quit.”

  His smile didn’t fade. “If you keep on cocking that cheeky little hip of yours in my direction I may just be provoked to pull you over my lap and spank you for being so hardheaded.”

  “Argh,” she exclaimed in frustration. “This is serious. I mean it.”

  His look was challenging. “So do I, baby.”

  “I’m not your ‘baby’.”

  “Want to be, darling?”

  Zenna felt herself fuming in frustration. “You are such a male, chauvinistic pig.”

  “Careful, I find your insults and anger quite a turn on. You look deliciously hot when you’ve got steam coming out of your ears.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Etán?”

  “I’m trying hard, Zenna, to give you what you need. To find a way...”

  “Don’t change the subject. This isn’t about the fireworks ... chemistry between us, this is about work.”

  “All right. We’ll talk about what you want and what I can give later. I can give you a sample of what I have to offer now.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

  She narrowed her eyes, pulling her lips into a firm line, pinning him down with her glare. “Just let me do my job, or I’ll let you publish this ... this ... second-grade work and make an utter idiot of yourself.”

  She turned on her heel, walking with angry little steps.

  “Zenna?” he called sweetly after her.

  She turned. “What?”

  “I loved your cooking last night. You still owe me a dinner. You promised to cook for me, remember?”

  She gave him another cutting look before she snorted and waltzed from his suite, almost bumping into Pedro in the hallway.

  “Good morning, Zenna,” he said carefully, measuring her angry look.

  “Your son is such a ... an obstinate person,” she blurted out, before mumbling some more insulting remarks to herself as she marched off.

  Pedro peered around the door. “Had a fight?” He had an amused smile on his face.

  Etán folded his hands in his lap. He laughed softly. “Zenna is hardheaded, that’s all.”

  “Mmm,” Pedro mused. “Etán, I have to see you about something. Do you have a minute? We can talk in the study.”

  “Sure.” Etán studied his father’s face. “I hope nothing is wrong.”

  Pedro cleared his throat. “I wish I could assure you otherwise.”

  “Sounds serious,” Etán said, alarmed.

  Pedro cocked his head in the direction of the study. “Shall we?”

  Etán got to his feet. “I’m right behind you.”

  In the office, Zenna studied Etán’s profile from her desk for a long time. He seemed preoccupied and not in the good mood he had been in in the morning when she had left him in his suite, herself fuming. Whatever it was that Pedro had seen him about, had put him in a serious and distracted mood. It pained her to see him like that. The man loved his work, but he needed to learn to ease up a bit. After toying with an idea for a while, she finally got up and walked to his desk.

  “Are you all right, Etán?”

  For only a second his eyes looked sad, but then a smile curved his lips. “Yes. Just perfect. You shouldn’t be here. You should be resting.”

  “I thought we had spoken about this.”

  He sighed. “There’s no winning with you, is there?”

  “No.”

  “Fine.”

  “Just like that? You’re not going to fight me?”

  “I’m too tired to fight, Zenna.”

  “I am going home.”

  “Good girl.”

  “To bake you a cake. My session with Margarita isn’t until five.”

  The smile actually reached his eyes. “You want to bake me a cake? What is this? Decided to move my birthday to today?”

  “Would I do something like that?”
/>   “I believe it may just be in your power to do.”

  “I can see you’re not feeling in top form, Etán. I thought something for your advanced sense of taste could spice up your humor.”

  “You’re a honey, Zenna. That’s very sweet.”

  “Excuse me? Where is Etán and what did you do to him?”

  “I’ll be over at four. If it’s a formal invitation for tea.”

  “Fine. Consider yourself invited.”

  “Good,” he hesitated, his shoulders hunched, “because there is something I need to tell you.”

  The rich fragrance of fresh home baking made Etán’s nostrils flare as he walked into the kitchen. Zenna was bent over the cake she had just removed from the oven.

  He walked over to her, inhaling appreciatively. “You do know how to cheer a man up.”

  She smiled a little feminine, knowing smile. “My mother did always say the path to a man’s heart is through his tummy.”

  “Wise words,” he mused. “Did you cook like this for Marcos?”

  She took a knife from a cutting board and cut two generous slices, serving them onto cake plates. “He never did appreciate my cooking, but then, he didn’t have your exceptional sense of taste.”

  “Foolish man,” he said. He had meant for it to sound lighthearted, but the words came out as heavy as his thoughts.

  “Grab the tea, will you?” Zenna took the plates and cake forks, carrying it through the door to the veranda.

  Etán followed with the tea tray, placing it on the low table in front of the sofa. They sat down next to each other, facing the garden. When she handed him a plate, he slipped his fork into the moist cake and brought it to his mouth. He almost fluttered his eyes like a girl. The coconut-honey topping, caramelized with butter, melted in his mouth, while the slightly salty cake gave it a delicate edge of contrasting balance.

  Zenna watched him, her chin in her hands.

  He didn’t know how to say what he had to. He was a mass of conflicting emotions. He wanted her to be happy, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her with someone else. Last night he even decided trying harder, not for her, but for his own selfish sake, because he could not live without her. Now, none of that mattered. It had been taken out of his hands. She was a wine he was forbidden to taste, one he couldn’t stay away from. He drank in her image.

  If he had to describe her lips, he would say it was like the cake she had baked, just for him. It was all honey and butter, exotic like coconut, with a little hint of salt, that flavor that reminds you there was more to Zenna than simple femininity. She had that hidden edge to her, the one that made his radar go haywire, the one that lured the pure male animal inside of him, almost to the point of driving him insane. It made no sense at all.

  He looked at her eyes, the shades of gold and honey so slightly different from one to the other, almost not noticeable, but yet, so very vivid in the late light of the day. If he allowed her to, Zenna would have a power over him that would bind him to her like a puppy dog. If she wanted, she could send him right over the edge. He always had that feeling with her, as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff. She had the power to either pull him to safety or push him off the edge. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have minded either way. His feelings and thoughts surprised him. God, she was bewitching him, intoxicating him.

  Even when he tried to get her out of his mind, her scent lingered in his senses. The pain of the loss he had to face was almost too much to bear. He watched her get up from the sofa and bend over to pour their tea. The way her full hips were positioned in front of him, made him feel drunk. He had to get a grip on himself before he did something stupid and embarrassing.

  “Your tea,” she said, turning to him with a cup, all the while maintaining that small little smile that plucked at the corners of her lips, where he wanted to draw his tongue, tasting the very corners of her mouth. One of these days, the pressure was going to make him explode. It was a dead-end street. There was no way of exploring that route, no way he could even dare to draw her deeper into something that couldn’t be.

  Etán took the cup and left it on the table, taking Zenna’s hands between both of his and pulling her down next to him. “You must be happy with Luca, Zenna,” he said seriously. “You must try.”

  “What is this? Matchmaking?” she asked, sounding alarmed.

  He tried to smile again, but somehow didn’t quite pull it off. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Just let me marvel in it for a little while longer.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?” She laughed nervously.

  “Promise me we will always be friends.”

  She stilled. “Now you’re frightening me, Etán.”

  His hand went to her cheek, caressing her face. “Don’t be scared, Zenna. Just be happy. For me. There is something I need to say to you...”

  She wanted to ask more as Etán’s words trailed off, but Luca walked onto the veranda just as Etán’s hand dropped to his side.

  “A delicious smell drew me all the way here,” he said, his eyes fixing on Zenna.

  She gave him a warm smile. “There’s cake. Want some?”

  Etán watched her closely. She was growing stronger, more confident. Her sessions with Margarita weren’t as hard on her anymore. She was mastering her gift and getting a much-needed grip on her life. Control was within her reach.

  He had had a long discussion with Margarita, and he was confident Zenna was finally mastering the skills that would ensure her freedom. His eyes traveled over the length of her body. Luca was right; she was meant to be loved. Etán put down his plate and got to his feet.

  Luca went to Zenna, loosely draping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve been invited to a party. I came to ask if you want to come.”

  Zenna looked at Etán. He smiled reassuringly at her. “I can’t see why not. You’re out of danger, now, Zenna. You should go and have some fun. You deserve it.”

  She almost choked on her tea. It was the last thing she expected from Etán. “Margarita said we still needed a few sessions...”

  Luca looked excited. “I spoke to her, and to Mother. I think we can get away for a couple of hours with a few guards on our asses.”

  Zenna looked from one brother to the other. “Are you sure?” She needed to change her environment, to get out of the house, but she loathed leaving Etán in his present mood.

  “Off you go,” Etán said brightly, but he looked positively miserable. Just as quickly as his emotions had slipped past his protective barriers, evoking a curious look from Luca, the mask was back on his face, his feelings carefully tucked away. “I’ve got business to take care of. You two go and play.” He winked at Zenna as he strode away, hands in his pockets, his shoulders straight.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The rooftop of the very prominent Santiago city hotel was pumping with lively music and the even more lively VIP invitees. Zenna stayed close to Luca’s side, trying not to get separated from him in the crowd that milled around them. They were surrounded with models, each one prettier than the next, and a whole gathering of celebrities Luca took pleasure in pointing out to Zenna. A reputable advertising company had organized the cocktail party for all those who had participated in a recent launch of a new exclusive fashion label. As the fashion photographer, Luca had been invited, and the photos he had taken for the launch were blown up and displayed around the venue.

  Zenna looked at them in awe. They were good. She had thought Luca was simply amusing himself with a hobby, but the skill and technique that had gone into these, were far beyond a simple pastime.

  “I’m proud of you!” Zenna had to raise her voice to be heard above the noise of the loud music and the chatter.

  Luca took another glass of champagne from a waiter and handed it to her. “Didn’t think I was any good, did you?”

  She giggled. “All right. I’ll admit that I had my doubts.”

  He took a glass for himself. “I’m proud of you.” He nuzzled her hair with hi
s chin.

  “What for?”

  “For looking to die for.” His eyes went over her black, sleeveless cocktail dress with appreciation.

  “Thank you, Luca.” She sipped her champagne. “I do feel like a bus compared to all these long-legged models.”

  He bent down to whisper in her ear. “All the men here only want to lay their hands on your curves.”

  She exploded in laugher. “You charmer. If only...”

  She was having fun. A distant part of her felt guilty about having left Etán behind. She missed him. Tonight she didn’t want to worry. She didn’t want to think about what Luca’s brother did to her. She didn’t want to ponder on why the chemistry between them was so powerful. She felt free, in control, and strong for the first time in her life.

  Luca’s eyes shined. “It’s good to see you like this.”

  “Like what?” she asked with mock indifference.

  Instead of answering, Luca pulled at her arm. He pointed in the direction of the bar. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

  Zenna turned her head in the direction Luca pointed and felt her heart come to a standstill. Marcos stood, only a few paces from her, at the bar. She immediately recognized the breathtaking blonde in the midnight blue dress by his side from the Gossip magazine photo. He was in conversation with someone, his hand on Monica’s hip.

  Zenna’s first instinct was to take flight. “Let’s go,” she said, pulling on Luca’s sleeve.

  “Not in your life, Sugar,” he said.

  When she quickly looked up at him, he winked. “Payback time,” he said in an evil tone.

  Slowly, a smile curved her lips. “That’s despicable.” Feeling the dare that came from Luca motivating her less admirable side, she lowered her voice, speaking excitedly, “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

  “You bet, Sugar.” He smiled down at her.

  In that same instant, Marcos turned and spotted them. At first, there was only an expression of boredom on his face, but as recognition set in, Zenna watched his face change from surprise, to shock, and finally into a look of confusion. She saw him say something to Monica, the blonde’s eyes moving, coming to a stop on Zenna with an undisguised, hostile expression.