Liz’s eyes widened. “I’m...impressed.”
A cynical smile lifted a corner of Gabe’s mouth. “No, you’re not. You don’t believe me. You’re surprised, if anything. You think, like everyone else, that my little vineyard is a joke.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t, but others have. In Indian Lake, they talk about what I’m doing like I had a lobotomy. It’s a natural progression, if you ask me. I’m already a farmer. I’m just changing crops is all.”
“All? There’s a lot more to it than that, Gabe.”
“I’m aware, Liz. You know a lot more than I do. You were born on the vineyard, weren’t you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“So you think it’s your birthright. It’s part of your genetic makeup.”
“My grandfather and my father, even my mother, were all vintners.”
“That’s great,” he breathed, with a respect she could nearly take and carry home in her pocket. “But what I’m trying to say is that there are those of us, not born among the vines, who have come to it like it’s our destiny, like we were given this special talent or purpose. It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s a passion,” she said quietly.
His blue eyes, the color of the Mediterranean Sea, pierced hers. “That’s exactly right, Liz. Passion. It’s a yearning so deep and so profound I can’t ignore it anymore. No matter how idiotic everyone else thinks I am, it’s important to me that you understand that about me.”
“But why?” she asked, shaking her head and wishing she hadn’t asked the question. It seemed impossible to her that this person she’d only recently come to know—first by nearly shooting him and then by dancing with him all night—should give a whit about her opinion.
“Because, Liz... Because you—”
A bell rang and everyone rushed back to their seats.
The speakers went to the tasting tables and started uncorking bottles.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin the event that has compelled most of you to attend this conference. The blind tasting. First, our own editors will demonstrate their expertise, and then we’ll open the tasting to anyone who wants to test their skills. We will have everything from a Chambertin burgundy to an Oregon chardonnay.”
Gabe stood up and held his hand out to Liz. “Shall we?”
She took his hand. When she stood they were nearly nose to nose, so close she could feel his breath on her lips. It was all she could do not to impulsively kiss him. Instead, she said, “You didn’t answer my question.”
His expression was serious. “Because you’re a great deal like me. And frankly, I find that intriguing.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE MALBEC LECTURE ended and was followed by two hours of wine tastings. Each of the editors demonstrated their unique ability to discern currant from blackberry flavor, mushroom from lavender, cassis and rosemary undertones, and to compare the subtleties in a French burgundy from 2010 to one from 2013. When the editors asked for a volunteer from the group, only Gabe came forward. No one else wanted to look foolish, but Gabe was a good sport about it all. And he amazed the audience—Liz included—by correctly identifying an Italian Soave, an Argentinian Malbec and a South African shiraz.
When the symposium was over, Liz gathered her purse and headed for the back doors. Gabe was preoccupied by his conversation with one of the editors.
Liz rode down to the lobby and saw it was still pouring rain outside. She took her umbrella out of her satchel.
“Can I give you a ride home?” Gabe asked, jogging up to her from the elevator bank. He was shoving his arms into his jacket sleeves and hoisting it onto his broad shoulders. He fixed the collar.
“I...er...I’m not going home right now,” she said, glancing around nervously.
Gabe smiled broadly. “Gonna play hooky?”
“Well, I...”
“Look,” he said, pointing to the rain outside. “You don’t have to make excuses. There’s no work back at the farm on a day like this. Let’s steal the rest of the afternoon together. What did you have in mind?”
“Steal?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s an old saying we had in the family. We’d steal time to do something fun. My mother would bring us here to Chicago to shop or go to the museums.”
“Shopping?” The corner of her mouth curled up. “I guess that habit started early.”
“What? Dressing well is important. And I loved shopping with my mom. She was always fun. Mostly we went to the toy departments while she looked for our school clothes. She’d take us out for Chicago-style pizza or really sloppy burgers. She made sure we saw all the new exhibits at the museums. She said it was educational. I remember her fighting with the teachers when she wanted to take us out of school for one of our ‘expeditions.’ Sometimes we’d see a play. She loves musicals.”
Liz was touched that Gabe appeared to have a very strong relationship with his mother. She hadn’t expected him to be so verbal about it. Clearly, he was a man who didn’t shy away from revealing his feelings.
“Your mother sounds like a wonderful person,” Liz said, allowing the fleeting memory of her own mother to come to rest in her mind for a cherished moment.
“She is. I hope you get to know her better. I think you two could be friends.”
“Friends,” Liz repeated. Friends with Gabe. Friends with Gina. It was an idea she hadn’t really pondered until this moment. She’d been too busy being suspicious and wary. Judgmental. She’d allowed herself to fall into her bad habit of categorizing people without really knowing them.
Still, her grandfather was concerned that Gabe was positioning himself to try to buy their vineyard. Or “steal” it after nearly driving them out of business.
But was that possible? The Crenshaw Vineyard was established, though she hadn’t forgotten about the lost cashier’s check. She wanted to believe she would find it and that the money hadn’t been stolen. She worried about their unpaid taxes, and they were still in debt from building the tasting room. Gabe didn’t know that, though. Not yet.
“So, where are you off to?” Gabe asked.
“Well, I’m not going shopping.” Liz gave him a tight smile.
Gabe tilted his chin. “I get it. Must be top secret. Well,” he said, leaning over and whispering in her ear, “no matter what it is, I won’t tell a soul. Discretion is my middle name.”
“I doubt that.” She chuckled and hoisted her purse strap onto her shoulder.
His jaw fell open. “I’m wounded. Truly.”
“You are not.” She punched him lightly on the arm. “All you’re trying to do is wrestle an invitation from me. Why, Gabe?”
“I thought that was obvious,” he said earnestly. “I want to spend time with you.”
“Why?” she nearly whined, but she managed to keep her frustration in check.
“I like you, Liz. There, I’ve played my hand. So can we be friends and get on with getting to know each other?”
Liz opened her mouth and he held up a finger.
“Don’t even think about asking me why again. Now, come on. Share your umbrella with me and tell me where we’re going.”
She glared at him. “You’re not going away, are you?”
“Nope.” His handsome face beamed at her.
Liz exhaled. “Fine. I promised Maddie I’d visit her new café that just opened last week. I couldn’t make the grand opening, so I thought this would be a good chance to check it out. She said she’d be there every Saturday for the first few weeks to make sure it’s all going well and the staff is properly trained. I thought that was wise.”
“I agree. Now,” he said, taking her umbrella and opening it as he pushed through the door, “let’s begin our time heist.”
* * *
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THE CUPCAKE AND CAPPUCCINO CAFÉ was located just up Wells Street from the Merchandise Mart. It was the first of Maddie’s franchises to be built and opened. Liz and Gabe huddled under the umbrella as they made their way to the café. They’d gone about half a block when Liz realized how easily they’d fallen into step with one another. It reminded her of dancing with him—everything flowed naturally. She should have been suspicious of a man getting this close, almost hip to hip. Especially Gabe. She couldn’t understand the delight she felt when she was with him.
Was she really smiling this much? Was that laughter bursting forth when he made his jokes? Suddenly, she was very glad he’d insisted on spending more time with her this afternoon.
“Here we are,” Gabe said as they came to a halt.
They stood in front of a luxe storefront with high glass windows surrounded by black and brown granite pillars. Across the top of the front door, in brass with backlights, was the name Cupcake and Cappuccino Café.
Liz was in awe. “Maddie has talked about her café so much, but to be here and see this...wow!”
“Wait till you see the inside,” Gabe said, closing the umbrella. He placed his hand on the small of Liz’s back and held the door for her. “You’re going to love this.”
“When did you see it?”
“I came up a couple times this summer when I could get away. After Nate and Maddie got engaged, I kind of hung out with them on a few of their trips to Chicago.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “After seven days a week on the farm, month after month, I try to take a few hours’ break when I can. Plus, there are some great wine bars nearby. Nate and I would go there to talk sometimes, and I was able to do a lot of research.”
Once inside, Liz was speechless.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s just that it’s...so different from her café in Indian Lake.”
“Yeah.” Gabe motioned to the elegant Italian lighting, faux painted walls and marble floors. “This is the city version of ‘down home.’”
The sitting area was filled with square tables and Italian-style chairs. Under the huge window were three love seats upholstered in yellow-and-white-striped fabric, and a modern glass-top coffee table in the center of the setting held a squatty vase of yellow roses.
The focus of the café was the enormous vintage copper-and-brass cappuccino machine in the center of a dark walnut coffee bar, where baristas were making lattes. Behind them, three young women in yellow-and-white-striped aprons piped different flavored icings onto cupcake bases.
“It’s wonderful,” Liz gushed as he led her over to a love seat.
“What would you like?”
“I can get my own,” she said. She started to rise, but he put his hand on her shoulder.
“Are you implying that I can’t afford it, or that you don’t want me to know your secret cravings?”
She stared at him.
“That’s it. You’re really a closet cupcake addict and you don’t want anyone to know.” He laughed heartily and flopped down next to her. “You are so much fun to tease.”
“Oh, stop,” she said and pushed his arm playfully.
What was she doing? Was she flirting with him? And why did that not bother her at all?
Just then Maddie came out of the back storage room with Nate, who was carrying a stack of paper cups. They both stopped dead in their tracks.
“Hi, Liz,” Maddie said with a warning wave.
Liz stood immediately and wiped the swoony expression off her face. “Maddie!” she exclaimed, feeling like a kid who’d just been caught red-handed.
“How was the lecture?”
“Great!” Gabe said, jumping up off the sofa to give Maddie a hug and slap his brother on the back. “It was one of the best I’ve ever been to. Plus, they had a tasting event at the end.” Gabe kept up a lively chatter about the wines he’d tasted that afternoon and how lucky he’d been to identify each vintage correctly. “I tell you, I surprised even myself.”
“I’m glad,” Nate replied. “Maddie, why don’t you show Liz around? She hasn’t seen the place. I’ll hang with Gabe for a minute.”
“I’d love to see it all,” Liz said, her eyes still sparkling with admiration.
Maddie grabbed Liz’s arm and smiled. “I’m so glad you came. I love showing the place off.”
As the two women walked away, Gabe realized he was still smiling and still had his eyes glued on Liz. He was surprised at the warmth he felt.
“Hey, what’s with you, man?”
“Huh? What?” Gabe got to his feet. “Wait. I want one of those German chocolate cupcakes you brought home last weekend.”
Nate pressed his brother back into the sofa. “Not till you tell me what’s going on.”
“Going on?”
“You know what I mean. Between you and Liz. When I walked out of the storage room you both looked like starry-eyed teenagers.”
“We did?” Gabe glanced over at Liz. She and Maddie were carrying on an animated conversation punctuated with giggles and hugs.
“So how long has this been happening?” Nate asked. “I thought you two just met at my engagement party.”
“That was the first time we danced. Not the first time we met.”
“So when did you meet?”
“When Liz tried to kill me.”
“Stop horsing around,” Nate groaned. “It was a simple question.”
“Okay, so I was being dramatic. But she did have a shotgun. She carries one around on her ATV. You can ask her.”
“I think I will. Maybe I can get a straight answer out of her. You always do this, Gabe.”
“What?”
“Evade. You always answer questions with more questions, or you change the subject entirely.”
“That’s not true. I never evade the subject with Mom.”
“You do with Dad,” Nate grumbled.
“That’s different,” Gabe said harshly. “It’s how I...cope.”
Nate’s eyes scanned his brother’s face. He put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I wish you didn’t have to do that anymore, Gabe. You’ve been running Dad’s business since the day you left Davis. He issues orders to you every morning and you do it all and then some. I may have been gone for ten years, but I saw what was happening and I see even more of it now. How much longer can you keep this up? Being his lackey and barely getting an ounce of appreciation from him?”
Gabe stared at his hands, oxygen burning holes in his lungs as if the years of resentment and anger had turned his breath toxic. “I wish I didn’t have to do it anymore, either, Nate.”
Nate exhaled. “You have no idea how good it is to hear that. You need to leave him, Gabe. He’s a thankless boss and an even worse father.”
“I know. I should.”
“But you haven’t.”
Gabe felt his insides clutch. He’d never confided in Nate, or any of his brothers, for that matter. Gabe had shouldered a lot of responsibility because he was the oldest. He felt a familiar wave of protection toward his mother.
“I’m all Mom’s got, really. I don’t think any of you have seen her cry when she thinks we aren’t looking. Maybe because I’m the oldest, she’s always confided in me.”
“You’ve always been loyal to Dad, too,” Nate countered. “To the farm. To his business. I know you love Mom, but there’s going to come a day when all this will overwhelm you, Gabe. I know it.”
“Is that your medical opinion?”
“You think I’m kidding? I’m a cardiologist. If you don’t use your heart correctly, it will turn on you.”
Gabe chuckled. “That’s funny.”
Nate shook his head. “These days, the medical community considers it a fact.”
; Peering at his brother seriously, Gabe dropped his banter. “I think I’m learning that.” His eyes slid toward Liz. “I’m not involved with Liz at all, Nate. You know how much I’ve always wanted to be a vintner. Maybe there’s a chance Liz would consider selling a parcel of land to me. I’m not sure. But the truth is we’re friends.”
Just then, Liz looked away from Maddie and straight at Gabe. Her smile lit the room more brightly than the expensive Italian chandeliers.
Nate’s eyes ping-ponged from Gabe to Liz and back. “That’s not the smile of a friend.”
“Sure it is, Nate. But frankly, I wouldn’t know. I don’t have all that many friends.”
“I know the feeling. None of us has ever had the time,” Nate mused. “Career commitments. And, for you, exhausting hours on the farm.”
Gabe was pensive. “Do you think lack of time is why Dad’s always been so uncaring? Or is there something missing in his character that he doesn’t give a rip about any of us? Dad was never very sociable, when you think about it. He’s always stayed on the farm, hardly going beyond our property lines except to go to church.”
“I never thought about it, but you’re right,” Nate agreed. “Mom’s the social one. Service League plays, her church sorority. Remember when she was our Cub Scout den mother? And she always went to town for exercise classes. Now it’s Zumba.”
“Dad’s never really liked people,” Gabe said. Then something popped into his mind. “Hey, have you ever heard Dad say anything about Sam Crenshaw?”
Nate shook his head. “Should I have?”
“Not really...” Gabe’s eyes darted to Liz again.
“You’re talking about Liz’s grandfather, right?”
“Yeah. It’s just that he said something strange the night of the party. But thinking back, it was just too out of the blue to be taken seriously.”
“After our engagement party? I wouldn’t take anything he said that night seriously.”
“Actually, you’re right. Dad’s not happy if he’s not barking orders, and when he doesn’t have workers to boss around, he’s gotta find someone else to shout at. Mom tuned him out long ago.”
A Fine Year for Love (Shores of Indian Lake) Page 10