Brenna felt her throat tighten. “Good idea, kid.”
“Thank you.”
Francesca and Katie both nodded.
Mia preened. “You keep talking about how smart I am, but then you never pay attention to me. I’ve had tons of brilliant plans that you’ve dismissed over the years.”
The waiter appeared with their drinks. When he was gone, Katie picked up her glass.
“I sense trouble coming,” she warned.
Mia ignored her. “It’s true. What about the time I wanted to get Grammy M a membership in a dating service for her birthday? You three wouldn’t listen, but look. She’s dating Gabriel and is really happy.”
“They wouldn’t have met through a dating service,” Francesca said.
“No, but she might have met someone else. My point is-”
Brenna laughed. “We are clear on your point, but we don’t agree with it.”
Mia scowled. “You guys are always like this. It’s the three of you against me. You stick together because I’m so much younger.”
“That’s not true,” Francesca said.
Brenna disagreed. It was often true. There were ten years between Mia and Katie, nine years between Mia and herself and Francesca.
Brenna patted her shoulder. “We still love you.”
“I know, but sometimes I want a little respect.” She brightened. “The good news is I’m still cool while the three of you are seriously old.”
“How flattering,” Katie murmured.
Mia picked up her glass. “Anyway, that’s why I wanted you all here. So we could reconnect.”
Brenna glanced at Francesca. “Not a bad idea for a baby.”
Francesca nodded.
Katie looked less convinced.
Mia sighed. “What?” she asked. “You have that ‘Mom’ look you sometimes get.”
Katie shrugged. “I’m just wondering if you’re really okay. Do you have any regrets about breaking off your engagement?”
Mia put down her glass. “No. David and I were really good together, but we were more caught up with having a relationship than actually thinking about what getting married would mean. I reacted to family pressure, and he reacted to being on his own for the first time. We’ve stayed friends and that works.”
The waiter appeared with a basket of bread. Mia lunged for it and pulled out a piece, then passed the rest to Brenna.
“I will admit that I miss the sex,” she said as she scooped up a pat of butter.
“Makes sense,” Katie said.
Francesca looked at Brenna. “Was that just Miss I-Only-Want-Romance expressing interest in sex?”
Brenna laughed. “Probably because it’s so good with Zach, she can relate now.”
“I could always relate,” Katie told them archly.
“Well, that’s annoying,” Brenna said. She turned to Mia. “I guess you and I are the only two not getting any these days. I resent that.”
“Me, too,” Mia grumbled. “When I get back to college, I’m finding a boy toy right off.”
“Just be careful,” Katie said. “If you still plan to rule the world, you need to consider staying single.”
“I know.” Mia sighed. “But single and sex-free aren’t the same thing.”
Francesca sipped her tea. “How are you doing, Brenna? It was stressful enough when you were just working at Marcelli and starting your own thing. But now, with Joe-are you okay?”
Brenna wasn’t surprised her sister had brought up the subject. If only talking about it would make things more clear.
“I like him,” she said slowly. “And I hate that Grandpa Lorenzo is going to leave him everything. So while I’m glad Joe is here, I can’t help wishing he’d never been born. Pretty awful, huh?”
“Not at all,” Katie said. “It’s perfectly understandable.”
Francesca patted her hand. “Why wouldn’t you have mixed feelings?”
“You’re being really brave about it,” Mia said. “If I were you, I’d get serious about the kidnapping plan.”
“What’s that?” Katie asked.
Mia filled them in on the idea she’d had for getting rid of Joe.
“We’ll ignore that he’s a trained professional,” Brenna murmured. “I doubt the four of us could take him.”
“How embarrassing for him if we could,” Mia said with a giggle.
“Maybe we’re overreacting,” Katie said. “Maybe it’s all just cheap talk on Grandpa Lorenzo’s part.”
“I wish, but I was there,” Brenna said, trying not to sound as if she cared. “He flat out told Joe that all of Marcelli could be his. Joe was more than interested.”
“Which means you were really smart to start your own label,” Francesca told her.
“I agree. I have to make it a success. And I’m going to. Thank God Nic came through with the money.”
He’d saved her, she thought. Without him she’d be totally screwed.
The waiter appeared with their salads. Once he left, Brenna picked up her fork. She glanced around and saw her sisters were all staring at her.
“What?” she asked.
“You really brought Nic to the party,” her twin said.
Brenna nodded slowly. “I asked you and Katie if you would mind and you both said it was fine.”
Katie glanced at Francesca, then back at her. “Sure, but we didn’t think you would actually do it.”
“Okay.” Brenna speared a piece of lettuce. “You guys could eat.”
They ignored her.
“There’s something going on there,” Francesca said firmly.
“Is this your professional opinion?” Brenna asked, then took a bite of her salad and chewed.
“The question is what,” Katie said.
“Cut to the chase.” Mia looked at Brenna. “Have you had sex yet?”
Brenna started to choke. She managed to swallow the food, then drank her tea. While her discomfort was genuine, she couldn’t help but be grateful for the distraction. Mia’s unexpected question had caught her off guard. While she didn’t exactly want to lie to her sisters, she wasn’t willing to tell the truth.
She cleared her throat. “Sorry. That went down the wrong way.” She pointed at their untouched plates. “Are you going to eat?”
Mia looked at Francesca and Katie. “I can’t believe it,” her youngest sister breathed.
Francesca reached for Brenna’s hand. “Tell us you didn’t.”
Now Brenna felt cornered. “Didn’t what?”
“Sleep with Nic,” Katie said, her voice low.
She cleared her throat. “I didn’t.”
She didn’t sound convincing, even to herself.
Mia sighed. “You are so lying.”
Brenna put down her fork. “Look, Nic and I have a working relationship, nothing more. We used to have something significant, and because of that, we have a past to deal with. Which we are.”
“Talk about psychobabble,” Katie said.
Mia grabbed a fry and took a big bite. “I can’t believe I’m the only one not getting laid,” she mumbled.
“It just happened one time,” Brenna insisted. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Francesca’s gaze was steady. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Cross my heart.”
“Uh-huh.” Katie started in on her salad.
Mia looked smug.
Francesca dropped her hand to her lap. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t have to. Her knowing look was enough to get on Brenna’s nerves.
“Don’t give me that ‘all things happen for a reason’ crap,” Brenna told her. “This wasn’t like that. It’s not cosmic. It’s hormones and circumstances. Given the past Nic and I had together, it was practically inevitable. But it didn’t mean anything.”
“So it wasn’t your fault?” Mia asked innocently.
“Exactly.”
“Be careful,” Francesca warned.
“There’s nothing to be careful about. We’re just worki
ng together.”
“And having sex,” Mia said with a grin. “Was it amazing?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Which means yes,” Katie said.
Brenna wanted to scream with frustration. “Why won’t you listen to me?”
“Because you’re not being honest with us or yourself,” Francesca told her. “Nic is appealing on many levels. You have a past, now you work together. You said there’s chemistry. It’s a volatile situation.”
“Does that matter if she cares for him?” Katie asked.
Francesca considered the question. “I don’t know.”
“Hello,” Brenna growled. “I’m still sitting here at the table.”
Mia poked at Brenna’s avocado. “Are you going to eat that?”
Brenna slapped her fingers. “Yes.”
“Do you care about him?” Francesca asked.
“I don’t know.”
This time Brenna was telling the truth. Did “care” describe her feelings for Nic? While having any emotional vulnerabilities where he was concerned made her nervous, “care” was a whole lot safer than several other feelings she could name.
“He’s done a lot for me,” she said slowly. “I appreciate that. He’s the reason I had the chance to start my own thing.”
“He was pretty cool at the party,” Mia pointed out.
“Grandpa Lorenzo tortured him and everything and he was polite. He could have gotten all huffy. Obviously he’s ready to put the past behind him, at least about the feud.”
“Is the rest of it behind you, too?” Francesca asked.
Brenna considered that. “Most of it.” But not all. Not by a long shot.
“Don’t forget the diary,” Mia said. “I give him a big thumbs-up.”
“What diary?” Katie asked.
“Sophia Giovanni’s.” Brenna explained how Nic had been translating it. “He didn’t get very far into it, but what he found was interesting. Before Sophia married Salvatore Giovanni, she was in love with Antonio.”
Katie’s eyes widened. “Our Antonio? Our great-grandfather?”
“He’s the one. They knew each other before he and Salvatore came over to start the wineries.”
“Interesting,” Francesca said. “Unfortunately it’s too early to have contributed to the feud. The falling-out between the friends didn’t happen for another fifteen or twenty years. Unless they were still in love.”
Mia shook her head. “They were married to other people. No way they could have stayed in love that long. Absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, it makes it forget.”
Katie laughed. “How did you come by this tidbit of knowledge?”
“It just makes sense. Without nurturing, love dies.”
Brenna knew Mia was right. Years ago she would have sworn she would love Nic forever, but she hadn’t. With time and a different life, she’d let her feelings go. Or maybe they’d faded on their own. Once there had been so much promise, and then one day it had all been gone.
“Let us know what you find out from the diary,” Francesca said.
“I will.” Mia reached for her iced tea. “So have you two lovebirds picked honeymoon destinations yet?”
Francesca murmured something about Hawaii, while Katie mentioned a cruise. Brenna only half listened. Her mind was still on Nic and what had once been. The two of them had managed to have dozens of conversations without ever discussing what had happened. She’d often thought of their past as an elephant in the room that neither of them was willing to talk about. Was it time to change that? Was she willing to go there with Nic?
Did she have a choice?
14
Nic left his office a little after ten. The building was silent and dark, except for the hallway lights the cleaning staff had left on for him. He went out the side door, locking it behind him.
The night was cool, clear, and quiet. Beyond the main building Wild Sea Vineyards stretched out to the horizon. An owl took flight with a silent flutter of massive wings. Leaves rustled. No light shone a welcome from the house. Nic felt like the last man standing.
Alone but not lonely. He’d always believed in that. Circumstances, or maybe his own nature, had dictated that he stand on his own. He’d been content to walk life’s path by himself. Friendship was important but not defining, while love…
Love was a crock of shit.
He turned from the view and started for the house. As he walked, he caught sight of a familiar vehicle parked by the trees. Brenna’s car.
It was late, he was tired, and he had a seven A.M. meeting with his managers. While he hadn’t seen Brenna in several days, he told himself he wasn’t interested in talking to her now. Even so, he found himself walking toward the building and entering through the open double doors.
He found Brenna crouched by a fermenting vat. She checked the temperature, then stood and walked around the large container. Fierce concentration pulled at her features. She inhaled deeply, as if determining how well the process was going by smell alone.
He remembered the first time he’d found her snooping around the winery. She’d been tasting samples from the reserve barrels. Instead of being afraid or even embarrassed at being caught, she’d had the balls to tell him everything he and his grandfather were doing was wrong. The hell of it was, she’d been right.
He remembered listening to her talk about wine. All these years later he could still recall the way the sunlight had slipped through the open windows to highlight the hint of red in her brown hair. She’d been pretty, mouthy, and arrogant, and he’d wanted her as he never wanted another woman before or since.
Nic leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. She moved to the next vat and made several notations on a clipboard. She was so focused on her work, she hadn’t spotted him.
Back then she’d been just as driven, but for different reasons. She’d argued passionately, mocked him, challenged him, and delighted him. For weeks he’d told himself that she was only seventeen to his twenty. Whatever he was thinking about her was not only inappropriate, it was illegal. But he’d been unable to resist. The first time he’d kissed her had been magic.
It had been in this room with the scent of the wine all around them, on a night not unlike this one. She’d worn shorts and a T-shirt, and her long hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. She’d been talking about grapes or wine because that’s what she always talked about, and he’d cupped her face and kissed her. He could still hear the catch in her breath as his mouth had claimed hers.
“The process works even if you don’t check on it every fifteen minutes,” he said quietly.
Brenna dropped her clipboard and jumped. As she turned to face him, she pressed a hand against her chest.
“Stop creeping up on me,” she said. “I’m getting old. I could have a heart attack or something.”
He pushed off the wall and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “I think that’s a few years off, yet.”
“Maybe.” She picked up her clipboard. “Where’s Max?”
“He flaked out a couple of hours ago.”
She glanced at her watch. “It can’t be this late. I got here at seven and was only going to stay a couple of hours.”
“You know how you get when you’re making wine.”
She nodded. “How are things?”
“Good. What about you? Lorenzo still making you crazy?”
“Sure. He’s really good at it. His stubborn streak only makes things worse.”
Nic took a step toward her. “Why don’t you quit?”
“No. I already did that once. This time I’m in it until the bitter end.”
“That’s new.”
He hadn’t meant to say that. The words had come out before he could stop them, and now they hung in the air like a flashing neon sign. Would Brenna ignore them or take the bait?
“Funny you should say that,” she told him, speaking softly. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately.” She gave
a slight smile. “The old us, not the new us.”
Was there a “new” us? he wondered. “Forget about it,” he told her as he realized he didn’t want to talk about them or the past. “It was a long time ago.”
“Not acknowledging what happened won’t make it go away.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
She stared at him. “It matters to me. A lot. I’m going to talk about it. If you leave, I guess I’ll just be talking to myself.”
He thought about heading out. He could walk away, and they would never have this conversation. But he didn’t. There were probably a thousand reasons why, but right then he couldn’t think of one.
“So talk,” he said.
She walked to the chairs set up by the small table. He considered staying where he was, in the shadow of the vats, in darkness. He didn’t want to have this conversation; he didn’t want to feel anything. Not again. Time was supposed to heal all wounds. Had it healed this one?
Silence filled the big room. Finally he gave in to the inevitable and walked over to where she was seated. He pulled out the other chair and settled across from her. She looked at him, then at the floor.
“I was so in love with you,” she began.
Her first blow hit below the belt. He stiffened. “You could have fooled me.”
She nodded. “I didn’t expect you to believe me.” She sighed. “Actually, I did think you would. Or maybe I just hoped. But whatever you want to believe, I loved you more than I had thought possible. You were my world.”
Something cold circled inside his belly. “I was third on a short list of two. First was your family, second was the wine. You weren’t willing to give up either, but you walked away from me fast enough.”
She raised her head. “That’s not fair.”
“That’s what I was thinking at the time.”
“You mattered so much, but my family was…they complicated things. I didn’t want to disappoint them, and I was terrified of defying them. My grandfather saw the world in such black-and-white terms.”
What she meant was she hadn’t been willing to pay the price. “You think my grandfather was any different?”
“No.” The word was a whisper. “I know he was angry.”
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