Love Redesigned

by Collins, Sloane B.

“Well, crap on a cracker,” she muttered. Why didn’t I think of that? Too late now, no way would she back out on her cousin. She would harden her heart and soldier on.

  A knock sounded at her door, and Daniel called her name. A moment later he opened the door.

  “Howdy, stranger. Where ya been?”

  She sighed. “Roman took me to dinner.”

  “What’s wrong? Trouble in paradise?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

  She just looked at him.

  “Oh. There really is trouble?”

  “He was going to buy me a building in the village here so I could start my business.”

  “Reaaally,” he said, drawing out the word. He sat next to her at the foot of the bed.

  “What on earth possessed him to do such a thing? I’ve never even hinted at staying.”

  He picked at a loose thread on the bedspread. “So . . . are you thinking about it?”

  “No!” She punched his arm lightly. “I’ve never even thought about it.”

  “Never? Not even after wild monkey sex with him?”

  Her face flamed. She pushed him off the bed. “Grow up.”

  “Pardon me. Never, not once, not even in the afterglow of truly amazing sex, did you think about staying here with him? This is me you’re talking to.” Still sitting on the floor, he faced her and stared her straight in the eyes. “I can tell when you’re lying to me.”

  “I’m not lying to you.”

  “Okay, but I can also tell when you’re not admitting it to yourself. Sugar, I’ve seen you these last few days, and you’re gaga over him. Admit it.”

  She got up and paced to the window, stared out at the dark night. Deep in her heart, she admitted she was crazy about him. “It would never work. My home is in the States. You’re in the States. The network I’m building for my business is in the States.”

  Daniel’s arms slid around her, comforting her. “Honey, home is where the heart is. You can start a network of business here, and considering how many people have been and will be eating your cakes this week, you could have a booming business right here.” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “And as for me, who says I want to stay in Atlanta?”

  Shocked, she turned around to face him. “What do you mean? Are you moving away?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been restless lately, and have pondered moving somewhere else, starting fresh. I haven’t met anyone lately I’m crazy about, so maybe I need some new blood.”

  “But . . . but . . . When were you going to tell me?”

  “I haven’t decided anything. I may stay right where I am in my little ol’ rut. I only told you so you’d realize you have options yourself. I want you to be happy. And if he gives you that, then go for it.”

  “Wait a minute. What’s going on here? You don’t like him! Just this morning you were angry with me about being with him.”

  “So I changed my mind. I’ve just been thinking it over. That little heart to heart he and I had the other day helped so I don’t hate him so much. Besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He still loves you. And now that I know he’s willing to buy you a building so you can fulfill your dreams . . . well, maybe he’s not such a bad guy.”

  Her heart glowed for a second before she snuffed out the light. “Not after tonight he doesn’t. I told him no. I want nothing from him.”

  “Why not take it as a loan?”

  “Because he would come attached to it, and I don’t want him dictating how I run my business. Besides, he and I move in totally different circles. I’m not interested in the limelight, and he is definitely one big lime in that spotlight. He’d eventually grow to resent me. It just wouldn’t work.”

  “Are you sure you—”

  She cut him off. “Just leave it alone, please. Discussion is over. Goodnight.”

  The day before the wedding, Roman drove through the rain to the chateau. He wanted to check all the gowns once more, and see if Francois needed anything.

  He glanced at the stack of papers from the real estate office sitting in the passenger seat where he’d tossed them the night before. They were an angry reminder of the argument they’d had at the shop. Why must she be so stubborn? Does she not see I only want to help her?

  Her rejection still stung. He couldn’t feel any worse than if she’d sliced open his chest and pummeled his heart. All he wanted was for her to be happy. But he wasn’t good enough for her, and she wanted nothing to do with him. His entire life he’d wanted to matter to someone, wanted to be there for the woman of his dreams. But she does not exist.

  His shoulders drooped, and he rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest.

  He swung the car into the lane leading to the chateau and had to swerve to avoid colliding with a truck. The front drive was a hive of activity, and rental chairs and tables were being moved into the chateau for the wedding. He continued to the side driveway, and entered the house from there. The entrance would take him past the kitchen Genevieve had appropriated for her baking, and he had no wish to see her at the moment.

  But as he walked through the hallway past the kitchen door, the enticing smell of cake made him drift closer. He peeked through the door.

  Her back to the doorway, Genevieve sat on a stool in front of a large cart. A five-tiered cake sat on the cart, covered in blush pink icing, so close to the color of the dresses he had made. She had a great deal of talent, no doubt about it. Clients would clamor for her cake designs.

  She worked on placing delicate flowers on the cake. It was a stunning creation. A cake top that looked like a bouquet of flowers sat to the side. Pride rushed through him, and he thought he would burst. If she were not so stubborn, I could help her launch her business now, not wait for a bank to take a chance on her.

  The door at the opposite end of the kitchen opened, and Melly and Bella rushed in, followed by Constance. He ducked back so they would not see him spying on Genevieve. He heard Constance gasp, and he peered around the doorframe once again.

  The two cousins were hugging, and Connie Sue pulled back, wiping her eyes.

  “I wish your mom could see this cake. She’d be so proud of you. This is the most gorgeous cake I’ve ever seen! The flowers look so real, not like they’re made of icing.”

  “I wish she was here, too. I still miss her. I used to love baking with her. She always made it so much fun.”

  She walked to the refrigerator and brought out two covered plates. Setting them on the counter, she swept the dome lids off. She picked the plates up and turned to the twins.

  “I made these special cakes just for you girls, for tonight. What do you think? Do you like them?” Princess cakes adorned the trays, each decorated in the girls’ favorite colors.

  The twins clapped their hands and squealed. Genevieve set the cakes down, and knelt on the floor, gathering them close. They showered her with kisses, and thanked her in their halting English.

  She hugged them close and smiled. But it was the saddest smile he had ever seen on anyone. His heartbreak echoed on her face. If anyone deserved to be a mamán, it was her. He backed away from the door and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

  “You love her, don’t you?”

  He opened his eyes. Constance stood next to him. “It does not matter. She does not return my feelings.”

  He started to walk away, but she tugged on his sleeve.

  “Wait a minute,” Constance said, her voice pitched low. “Just give her time. A lot has happened the last few days, and I think she’s reeling.”

  He kissed her cheek. “She has already told me she will not stay.”

  “Just give her some time,” she repeated.

  “Ever the optimist, aren’t you, Constance? She told me to find someone else, have a family. Does that sound to you as if she has feelings
for me?” He turned away to leave.

  “She’s being selfless. We had a long talk this morning, and she finally told me what really happened when she had the car accident. I tell you, it just about broke my heart. She knows you want children. But if she’s the one you want, then go after her. You can always adopt.”

  Her words stopped him. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. But no . . . “It’s too late. She does not want me.”

  He headed toward the exit.

  “Oh, wait. I almost forgot.”

  He glanced at her.

  “Francois said he needs to talk to you. Would you please stop by his study before you leave?”

  “Can’t it wait? I really need to leave.”

  “I’m sorry, but I think it’s important he see you today.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Thanks for letting me know.” He backtracked to the stairs leading to his cousin’s study.

  He knocked once and opened the door, entering the dark paneled room. “Constance said you needed to see me, but can it wait? I was on my way out.”

  “No, not really.” Francois gestured him toward a wing chair by the fireplace. He blew out a breath and sat down next to him. “I need to talk to you about something. Remember a few days ago when I introduced you to Sophie Bélanger?”

  Roman nodded, remembering the dark-haired young woman who was applying for a job with the winery.

  “As you know, I perform background checks on all candidates.”

  Roman waited, impatient to find out why he needed to know this.

  “Something came up I wanted you to know about.” Francois shifted in the chair, then got up and stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “What, is she a spy? An assassin?” he asked, dryly.

  Francois rolled his eyes. “No, you idiot.”

  “Then what did you find out that I need to know?” He tried to reign in his impatience, just wanting to go home, and not caring at the moment who she was.

  “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it. Did you know your mother remarried a year after she left your father?”

  Roman stilled. “No, I never heard anything. I was only eight when she left. And my father never talked about her. Honestly, I tried never to think of her.” That she had not been happy had been clear enough, but that she didn’t want her own son had devastated him.

  “She did remarry, and she had a daughter. Sophie.”

  The clock on the desk chimed the hour, and it startled Roman. He shook his head. “What?” he croaked.

  “Sophie is the daughter of Mariana and Phillipe Bélanger.”

  “Are you sure that’s my mother?”

  “We do an extensive background check to begin with, but when I heard this, I wanted to make sure it was her. It is.” Francois sat back down. “I’m sorry.”

  Roman’s head whirled with this news. He’d finally stopped wondering where his mother had gone when he reached his teens. His father never talked about her before he died. She hadn’t been the best mother, and it had been a relief that he no longer had to hear the fights between his parents. But it had still hurt that she didn’t want him.

  “Where did she go?”

  “The man she married owns a vineyard about forty kilometers from here. It’s been in his family for over two hundred years, and that’s how Sophie became interested in viticulture. She wants to carry on her family’s business, which is why she enrolled in the International Sommelier program.”

  “Sophie. That would make her . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “Your half-sister.”

  His shoulders hunched, and he dropped his head in his hands. No wonder she had looked familiar to him. “She looks like my mother did. How old is she?”

  “Twenty-seven. About ten years younger than you.”

  “Is her mother still living?”

  “You mean your mother?”

  Roman jerked his shoulder.

  Francois rubbed a hand across his forehead. “No. She died a few months ago. I’m sorry.”

  Shocked, he said nothing. She hadn’t been very old, then.

  “Are you alright?”

  He looked up. “It’s been so long I don’t know what to think. How to feel. She’s been dead to me for many years.” He rolled his neck. “Is it wrong to admit that?”

  “No, I don’t think so. You hadn’t seen or heard from her in, what, almost thirty years?”

  Roman stood up and walked to the window behind the massive desk. Heavy clouds had rolled in, obscuring the sunlight. “Why are you telling me this now? You have the rehearsal tonight, and the wedding tomorrow.”

  “I felt you should know. I had planned on hiring Sophie, but this changes everything. I won’t do it if aren’t comfortable with it.”

  “Would she be good in this job?”

  “I think she’d be a very good asset. She’s smart, capable, and knows everything about wine from the ground up. It’s in her blood.”

  “Then you should hire her. Are you going to tell her she’s my half-sister?” He faced Francois, noted the concerned expression.

  “That, my friend, is up to you. I will follow your lead.”

  “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll see you later at the rehearsal. Let me know if you need anything.” He deliberately changed the subject. “Are you ready to get married?”

  Francois smiled. “More than ready.”

  Roman clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a very lucky man, cousin. Call if you need anything.”

  He walked out the door and left the chateau. Rain streamed from the sky, but at this point he didn’t care.

  A sister.

  He climbed in the car but made no move to start the engine. He leaned his head on the wheel.

  What else can happen now?

  Chapter 16

  The wedding party gathered in the medieval chapel on the chateau grounds, ready to begin the rehearsal. Genevieve waited next to Connie Sue, watching the other two attendants walk down the aisle. The wedding planner gestured for her to begin her walk, and she stepped through the doors, waited a beat. She paced herself, looking everywhere but at the front of the cavernous chapel where the groom waited next to his best man.

  Roman.

  She reached the steps leading to the altar and stepped to the left into her spot. Turning to watch her cousin walk down the aisle, her gaze skittered past Roman, then shot back to see him staring at her.

  She bit her lower lip, then licked the spot. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and a muscle twitched in his jaw.

  Shocked, she noticed dark shadows beneath his eyes. His face rivaled that of an old world sculpture. He could have been carved from granite, and she hated putting that look on his face. But dammit, she had to live her own life, and achieve her own dreams!

  She refused to let him make her feel bad. She squared her shoulders and met his cold gaze with one of her own. She was not going to back down. Not this time. She had seen her mother back down too many times from her father. She narrowed her eyes at him.

  One of his eyebrows lifted slightly, but he kept watching her.

  Connie Sue stepped into her line of sight and hissed at her. “Knock it off.”

  Facing the priest, Genevieve whispered, “Knock what off?”

  “I started walking down the aisle and it looked like the battle of Antietam was getting ready to commence the way you two were staring at each other.”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t going to look at him, but the way he was glaring at me ticked me off.”

  “There’s more going on than you know. I’ll tell you later,” Connie Sue whispered.

  The priest cleared his throat, and Genevieve flushed, smiled an apology at him.

  What’s going on?

>   The wedding planner hurried to the front of the room, and began directing how the ceremony would proceed the following day.

  They made it through rehearsal finally, and adjourned to the formal dining hall of the chateau for the dinner. The long table gleamed with crystal and silver, and the chandelier reflected the candlelight in the delicate teardrops.

  She was grateful to sit down after being on her feet all day. An elegant dinner was served, each course more amazing than the previous one. After all the rich French food she’d been eating, she wouldn’t be able to eat for a month after she got home.

  Home.

  Why did the thought of leaving France make her feel so wretched? It wasn’t just leaving Roman. She could make a home for herself here in France, in St. Armand. The medieval village called to her, and the few people she’d gotten to know felt familiar to her already, like long-lost friends.

  The servers brought in the desserts she had made, and set them in front of each person. Individual miniature wedding cakes decorated in the wedding colors of blush and gold sat on each gold-edged plate. She’d used edible-gold leaf to stencil the initials of the bride and groom on top of each cake.

  Up and down the table, the guests oohed and aahed over the cakes, and she waited breathlessly for them to begin eating.

  The sound of a knife clinking against crystal silenced the diners, and she looked up to see Roman standing on the other side of Francois.

  “I would like to offer this toast to Francois and Constance. A good marriage is not unlike a delicate wine. Both require blending and nurturing to achieve the very best there is to offer. Francois has transformed the land into a prosperous vineyard, and to our delight, Constance has become a valuable part of the winery beside him, filling the empty spaces not only in the company, but in his family and his life.