by Beth Andrews
Yvonne’s lips twitched and she cleared her throat. No use letting anyone here see she really did have a sense of humor. They already had their own ideas about her. Nothing would change that.
“You know,” Matt said, laying his arm on the back of Connie’s chair, “if you two were guys, you could just get it over with, go outside and beat the hell out of each other.” He nodded toward his brothers. “That’s how we resolve most of our disagreements.”
“Matthew,” Diane said wearily, “stay out of it.”
He lifted one shoulder. “Just trying to help.”
“Your idea of help would be to dress them in bikinis and have them roll around in a mud pit,” Aidan said in clear disgust.
Matt grinned. “Not true. But now that you mention it…” He shot a hopeful look at Connie.
She rolled her eyes and shoved his chest. “Keep dreaming.”
“You can count on that. And for the record,” he said, lowering his voice, though they could all still hear him, “my money would be on you.”
If Yvonne had doubted there was something going on between Connie and the youngest Sheppard brother, those doubts were put to rest when Matt kissed the brunette.
Guess the man Connie had been married to when Yvonne and Aidan were together was out of the picture. Yet another change she’d been unaware of. Well, she’d chosen to leave.
“We’re going to go with these,” Diane said, holding up a white invitation with scrollwork on the top right and bottom left corners. “And I agree with Connie about the colors. Let’s do the blue and brown.” The senator touched the back of Diane’s neck, then looked pointedly at his watch. She patted his hand. “That’s my cue that we have to be going.”
“Oh, but I only have a few more quick questions,” Yvonne blurted when they stood. “I need to know if you have any preference for the caterer and florist and—”
“My only preference is that they’re local businesses,” she said, pushing her chair in. “Aidan can tell you which ones are the best.”
Aidan narrowed his eyes. “I can?”
He could?
Diane didn’t even blink. “Of course. This isn’t just about our wedding. It’s also about the Diamond Dust.”
“And God knows you’re all about this place,” Matt muttered earning himself a cuff upside the head from Connie.
“You’re an idiot,” said Brady.
Aidan shifted his gaze back to his mother. “You’re about as subtle as a brick to the head.”
“I don’t have time to be subtle,” Diane snapped. Al laid his hand on her lower back and she inhaled deeply. “It’s less than a month and a half until our wedding. And we have Yvonne here for only a short time to help us move into events hosting. We need to take action on both now. Which is why,” she said to Yvonne, “I’d like you and Connie to get started on the bigger-picture steps.”
“Connie?” She hadn’t asked who, exactly, she was to be working with. She’d assumed it would be someone new, someone with at least a background in event hosting. Someone who didn’t dislike her so much.
“Connie’s going to be in charge of events at the winery,” Aidan said. Connie looked less than thrilled. “But all decisions made have to go through me first.”
“Yes,” Yvonne said. “Your mother mentioned that. We really do need to make some decisions, Connie, especially in coming up with companies we—I mean, you all—” she glanced around the table “—may want to add to a list of preferred vendors.” When Connie just stared at her blankly, Yvonne added, “I’m free this afternoon.”
Connie laid her fork on her plate. “Aren’t you lucky to have so much you time? Too bad I’m booked solid.”
“I’m sure you can find an hour or two to give to Yvonne,” Diane said, her light tone not hiding the fact that she wasn’t making a suggestion, but a demand.
Connie looked as if she wanted to disagree, but then Matt said something into her ear. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But we’ll do it while I’m pruning.”
“I’m so looking forward to it,” Yvonne said with a toothy smile. “When is good for you?”
“After I’m done eating. Meet me at the northwest corner of the merlot block.”
“I’m afraid I left my handy compass in my other purse.”
Connie rolled her eyes. “Just meet me in the parking lot behind the winery in fifteen minutes.” Her plate in hand, she stood. “I’m going to get seconds.”
As she walked out of the room, the senator laid a hand on Diane’s shoulder. “We really need to go.”
Diane’s expression seemed strained. “Let me get the leftovers boxed up,” she said, stacking her plate with her fiancé’s, “and the dishes in the—”
“I’m sure the boys can handle kitchen duty,” Senator Wallace said.
Yvonne pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh at Aidan and his brothers being referred to as boys.
“They have their own work—”
“Diane.”
Diane looked at him sharply, but set the plates down.
“We’ve got it,” Brady told them.
“Well, then,” Diane said, her voice sounding suspiciously thick, as if she was fighting tears. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
They left as Connie came back in. Moments later, Yvonne realized how quiet the room was. The silence oppressive and expectant. And worse, all eyes were on her. She had no idea what to say next.
“I’d like to thank you,” she said in a breathless rush, “for this opportunity. I’m very excited to be working…” With you all. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t force the lie past her lips. “…here.”
“That’s quite understandable,” Aidan said.
“Why don’t you quit being a jackass?” Matt asked his brother as he gathered the unopened drinks. “There’s nothing wrong with looking out for your own best interests.”
“You’re good at that, Yvonne, aren’t you?” Aidan murmured. As she stiffened, he added, “At making things seem perfect, too. Too bad at least one of the events you planned didn’t go as smoothly as I’m sure you would’ve liked.”
She had no idea what he was talking about.
“What happened at the Collins-Webster wedding?” he asked. “The unavoidable?”
She went hot, then cold. How had he found out about that?
God, she had to work with these people for the next two months. People she used to care about, who she used to wish would care about her.
And Aidan wanted to humiliate her in front of them. Wanted to hurt her.
She shook her head slightly, but it did no good.
“Because it seems to me,” he said, as if they were discussing who would wash the dishes and who would dry, “some things are unavoidable. Such as getting caught in a compromising position with one of your clients on the day of his wedding.”
THE ROOM WENT SILENT for one heartbeat. Then two. Yvonne’s face was pale.
“God, Aidan,” Connie whispered, “way to be a major prick.”
He didn’t so much as glance at her. Couldn’t take his eyes from Yvonne. She’d gone so white, for a moment he was afraid she would pass out. Brady nudged her water bottle toward her.
“I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed,” she said, not quite as cool or stiffly polite as she had been.
He got no satisfaction out of that. But he was still unable to stop from saying, “I’m sure we’d all be interested in hearing the real story then.”
“I think we’ve all heard enough.” Brady sent Aidan one of his rarely used but highly effective shut-the-hell-up looks. “Yvonne is a member of the Diamond Dust now. What matters is how she performs her job here. Not what happened in the past.”
“You’re wrong,” Aidan said quietly. “The past does matter. It shapes you. Teaches you valuable lessons.”
Such as trusting the wrong person. Loving her. Thinking, for even one second, that she could change.
Yvonne slowly, carefully put the invitation his mother had chosen b
ack into the binder. “I’m so sorry, but I just remembered I have a few calls I have to make. I’ll meet you at the winery,” she said to Connie. “Whenever you’re finished, of course.” After tucking the posters under her arm, she stacked the binders, then picked them up, hugging them to her chest. She glanced around the table. “If you’ll all excuse me?”
And then, a small smile on her face, her curves making what should’ve been a plain, masculine suit incredibly sexy, she turned and swept out of the room.
“I don’t know if I should be in awe of her control,” Matt said, “or her acting skills.”
“Both,” Connie stated, sounding reluctantly impressed. She stabbed a finger in Aidan’s direction. “But if it’d been me and you’d brought up something like that, you’d be wearing my lunch on your head.”
“I can’t be the only one wondering why she agreed to take this job.” He leaned forward earnestly. “We have a right to know if something happened that tainted her career or her reputation, especially if it’s going to affect the Diamond Dust by her being here.”
“Cut the bullshit,” Matt said. “We all know what you were really trying to do.”
Embarrassed, trying to tell himself he was in the right, Aidan got to his feet. “Then I guess maybe Mom shouldn’t have pushed her luck by trying to run two sons’ lives.”
“Where are you going?” Connie asked.
“Back to work.”
She turned in her seat as he passed. “You haven’t finished eating. And Diane made chocolate chip cookies.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He’d stepped into the kitchen when Brady’s voice reached him. “I wanted to go over—”
“Send me a damn memo,” he called, swiping two cookies off the cooling rack on the counter without even pausing.
“What about the dishes?” This last was from Matt, followed by what sounded like someone smacking him.
Aidan kept walking.
Outside, he crossed to the company pickup he was using for the day. He didn’t see Yvonne. Not that he was looking for her. He was just…making an observation.
Tony and Terry were gone, too, more than likely already back to work. They’d only driven in from the fields so they could meet Tony’s girlfriend, who was bringing his lunch. Usually, during pruning, they all ate in the vineyard—except on Thursdays when, as Al had explained to Yvonne, the Sheppards and Connie ate at his mother’s. Though Aidan would’ve gladly skipped this particular lunch.
He whistled loudly. A minute later Lily appeared from the back of the house, her tail wagging, her ears back as she ran. He opened the truck door and she leaped onto the seat. He climbed in after her, started the truck and drove down the narrow road through the plantation.
Five minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot by the renovated farmhouse they used as their gift shop. The store was open, but there were only three vehicles in the lot, one a small, red hybrid belonging to Pam, their manager. Before he’d taken over, their retail business had often dropped off during the winter months, but that hadn’t been the case since he’d extended their weekday hours until seven.
Behind the shop was the winery, a newer structure built to match the weathered appearance of the farmhouse with a narrow parking area for employees. And in the spot farthest from the building, the spot where Aidan always parked, sat a shiny silver Lexus with North Carolina plates.
Lily pressed her nose against the windshield. “Yeah,” Aidan muttered, “I can’t believe it, either.”
He’d figured after what had happened—after what he’d said—that she’d find some excuse not to meet with Connie.
But she obviously wasn’t going anywhere.
He could take the truck down the narrow dirt road that wound around the five acres of merlot vines. Everyone else parked in the field, and most of the time, Aidan did, too. But there were times when he preferred to walk. And this was one of them.
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than the sun on his head, the cool breeze bringing with it the scent of spring, as he walked off his edginess. His irritation.
He wasn’t about to let Yvonne—or the nagging guilt inside him—dictate his actions.
Pulling into a spot two down from her, he glanced over. She slowly turned her head, then turned back to stare through her windshield at the block of pinot noir.
She had no right to be pissed. She’d lied to him. Left him. And his brothers were wrong. He wasn’t trying to disparage her character. He’d discovered information about her that, as her employers, they all had a right to know. If it was true.
His blood simmering, he strangled the steering wheel before forcing his fingers open so he could shut off the ignition and climb out of the truck. He walked around to the tailgate, took a pair of loppers from the bed and slung them over his shoulder, his anger building.
As an image of Yvonne wrapped around some faceless, nameless groom, came to him, he swung the loppers from his shoulder like a baseball player warming up before batting.
He’d been trying to get to the truth, that was all. To figure out why she’d been involved with a client. Her beauty meant she attracted more than her fair share of male interest. And if her face and body didn’t entice them, her parents’ wealth and social standing would. But she’d never played it loose and easy. Had, more often than not, cut off some poor bastard at the knees with one of her cool, condescending looks.
Of which Aidan had firsthand experience. He’d asked her out three times before she’d accepted.
She could have her pick of eligible men. Rich, successful downtown men who could give her the life she’d wanted so badly. Hell, she’d walked away from their marriage to get it. So what had pushed her to risk her reputation and job by hooking up with a man who was engaged to someone else? Loneliness? Desperation?
Switching the loppers to his other hand, Aidan stuck a pair of pruning shears in his back pocket and slammed the tailgate shut.
Lily sat in a patch of sunlight by the front door of Yvonne’s car. He whistled. She leaped to her feet, glanced his way, then turned back to the car.
Shit. All he wanted was fifteen minutes where he could clear his head and pretend nothing bothered him. Was that too much to ask?
Apparently.
“What’ve you got there, girl?” he asked, crossing to his dog. Yvonne didn’t so much as glance his way.
He tapped on the window. Still nothing. He would’ve wondered if she was breathing if he couldn’t clearly see her chest rising and falling, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
Probably pretending it was his neck.
Finally, she turned on the ignition and rolled the window down. Raised her eyebrows at his loppers. “Come to finish me off?”
He swung the tool down to his side. “Violence was never my style.”
“No,” she said softly, “you prefer cutting people down to size with words.”
“The truth hurts.”
“Is that why you stopped over? To spout clichés at me?”
“No, ma’am. I just came to get my dog.” He snapped his fingers and Lily padded to him. “Come on, girl.”
He made it as far as the back of her car before Yvonne called out, “Wait.”
He turned, crossed his arms. She rolled the window up, shut off the engine and opened the door slowly. Just a crack, barely enough for her to fit through, and as she did, she kept a wary eye on both him and his dog.
Lily barked twice and Yvonne flinched.
“Lily,” he commanded, “sit.”
She did but her body vibrated with excitement.
Yvonne finally shut the car door. “Thank you,” she said, as though forcing the words out. But that was his ex-wife.
Always formal. Always polite.
“You’re welcome.” He matched her haughty tone. “But I already told you, Lily won’t hurt you.”
She shaded her eyes with her hand. “I remember.”
“Then why do you about jump out of your skin whenever she
makes a move or sound?”
Her pretty mouth flattened. “You must be in your glory. How vindicated you must feel, because I’m…nervous around your dog.”
“I don’t enjoy seeing you afraid, Yvonne.”
“No? Just hurting me then. Humiliating me in front of your family.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“Please. Don’t insult either one of us by denying it.”
He stepped forward, but she didn’t back up as the old Yvonne would have. She just met his gaze.
“Are you calling me a liar?” he asked softly, trying to pretend he didn’t want to pull her to him so he could press his nose against the side of her neck and just breathe her in.
Her throat worked. But when she spoke, her voice was strong. “In this instance? Yes. You must really hate me.”
“Is it true?” he asked. “Did you sleep with one of your clients on his wedding day?”
She lowered her eyes. “How did you find out?”
Lily suddenly took off down the road after something. Aidan watched her disappear around the winery. “It’s hardly a secret.”
“No, it wasn’t a secret when it happened over two years ago. But it hadn’t been discussed much since then. Which makes me believe you deliberately went looking for dirt you could sling at me.”
“Mud,” he said, ignoring his embarrassment. “You sling mud. Dig up dirt.”
“Ah, but you did both,” she said, a breeze blowing a strand of hair in her face. He curled his fingers into his palms so he wouldn’t smooth it back.
“I contacted World Class Weddings.”
“You spoke with Joelle?” Her hand was anything but steady when she finally slid the errant hair in place.
“It was a reference check.” The words came out rougher than he’d intended. “I do them for all new employees.”
“A reference? Really, Aidan, is that the best you can do? And yet you seem so offended that I dared suggest you’re not being entirely truthful.”
He ground his back teeth together. “Unfortunately,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken, “by the time I’d called, the owner of the firm wasn’t available. However, the woman who answered the phone—a MaryAnn—was very helpful when I asked about you.”