by Jan Moran
“Olivia is my life.
If Olivia is his life, does he have room for a woman?
Wait, what am I thinking? He already destroyed my life once. Why do I even care?
Yeah. Fool me once….
He moved next to her, his cologne—a heady mix of earth and musk—wrapping around her. His arm brushed hers, and her breath caught.
“Are you okay?”
She lifted her hands, laying the backs against her hot cheeks. “The humidity must be getting to me today.”
Chapter 9
Vincenzo
If I weren’t so sure she hated me, I’d say she has it bad for me. He shook his head. It didn’t make sense. Nothing about Alicia made sense. But then no other woman had ever made him feel quite like she did, either. Now who’s got it bad?
The need for his father to destroy such a nice family puzzled him. No way can I hurt this family. His blood pumped faster, Alicia’s image sneaking into his thoughts. He couldn’t deny his emotions every time she came near him, how he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, tear her clothes off, and taste every inch of her body. Could she ever forgive him for abandoning her? His heart sank into his stomach. Plunging his fists in his pockets he headed for the door. His stubborn dad never listened to reason. Only something drastic might change his mind. Still, confrontation could clear the air between them, but he needed to be smart about it and secure an apartment first. I can’t take chances with his unpredictability. He glanced at his watch, it was early enough to go apartment hunting, but, first, he excused himself to his gracious host.
“Sorry to see you go so early,” Mr. Contrino said, extending his hand.
Vincenzo shook it. “Please thank Mrs. Contrino for me,” he said after finding out she’d gone upstairs to check on her daughter.
Taking out his iPhone, he searched.
Every apartment he checked out he deemed too small, even the two-bedroom ones had crowded living space. But the last apartment…?
The small ceramic entrance opened into a huge space—living room, dining room, and kitchen. The living room had a working gas fireplace, and light flooded in from the bay window. A hallway on the left led to two bedrooms and a guest bath. The second bedroom, Olivia’s room—large, full of light, its own bathroom and walk-in-closet—was perfect for his little princess. Even the location of the complex worked for him.
He went to speak to the manager and secured the apartment. The task at hand overshadowed the joy of finding the perfect place.
Of course, Dad’s not going to be happy. The jerk will probably throw my ass out. But then, why else would I sign a lease?
He cursed, hitting the button to unlock his car, and after settling in the vehicle, he drove home to confront his father. Pulling into his garage spot, he took a deep breath and stormed into the mudroom where he took his shoes off.
Olivia sat on a counter chair, helping Grandma scoop out chocolate-chip dough onto a cookie sheet. From the sticky dough all over her face, he gathered she’d eaten more than helped. Hope she doesn’t get salmonella poisoning….
“Daaaddyyy!” She raised her gummy hands toward him. Vincenzo rushed in and kissed her forehead then turned and kissed his mother’s cheek.
Mother stared at him. “Something’s wrong.”
“I’m fine.”
“Hmph.” She picked up the cookie sheet and placed it in the preheated oven while Vincenzo cleaned Olivia’s sticky fingers and face.
“Daddy eat cookie?”
“Yes.” He swung her around. “Daddy will eat cookies with Olivia.”
“Yea!” She clapped.
His mother walked by carrying an espresso pot to the counter. “Come on, you can tell me all about it over espresso.”
Vincenzo set his daughter down then sat next to his mother. Olivia scurried to the corner where she dug into her toy box.
“What’s her name?” Mom attacked the subject soon after pouring coffee.
He eyed her. How can she possibly know? “It’s much more complicated, Ma.”
“We have plenty of time. Your father is playing golf at the club.”
He shifted in his chair, facing his mother. “You already know why Dad sent me to work at the Contrino vineyards. You’ve told me how wrong Dad is.” He sipped espresso. “Now, I think Alicia has figured out why I’m there.”
“You like Alicia.”
“It’s more than like, Ma. I made the biggest mistake of my life not telling her about Olivia.” He sighed. “I convinced myself it was the best thing I could do for her.”
After sipping from her demitasse, Mom said, “If you don’t talk to the girl, you’ll never have any answers. But I must tell you, before you do, you need to let your father know your intentions.”
“I need to test the waters with Alicia first. Problem is, I never fell out of love. She needs to know the truth. What Dad planned.”
“Vinnie, I don’t—”
He held up his hand. “If things work out with Alicia, the vineyard will belong to the family.”
“And if they don’t?”
He shrugged. He hadn’t thought that far.
She smiled. “A wounded heart is very unpredictable.” She sighed. “Remember how you felt about Olivia’s mother before and after.”
“Yeah. I woke up and saw who she really was.”
“You always had a love-hate relationship with her.”
He sipped his espresso, the rich acidic brew rolling over his tongue. “Do you think it’s a good idea to talk to Alicia first?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Yes, I do.”
He poured them more coffee. “What else?”
“You can go to Mr. Contrino. Tell him the reason you’re working for him and see what he does. If he fires you, your father will never know the reason—”
“Daaaaaddy!” Olivia called from the living room.
Vinnie swiveled toward the living room where his daughter had taken her stuffed animals to play. “Be right there, honey.” He faced his mom and grinned. “Ma, you’re a genius!” He kissed her cheek then went to play with Olivia.
*~*
The next day, Vinnie sat in Mr. Contrino’s office.
“What can I do for you, my boy?”
“I need to make a confession.” He squirmed in his seat.
“Sounds serious.” The old guy sat up straight in his chair.
Cold sweat dripped down his spine. “The real reason I applied to be your accountant is because my father—”
“Stop right there.” Bushy gray eyebrows dipped low over his eyes.
Dammit! The old man knows why. He fiddled with the ends of his tie then stilled his hands. Truth time.
“Just tell me your intentions,” Mr. Contrino growled.
“You’ve shown me nothing but kindness, have taken me into your home and treated me like family—”
“You are family. Distant cousin, but still family.”
No other way around it. “I will not be helping my father.”
The old guy rubbed his chin. “So, your intentions here are honorable?”
“Yes, sir.”
He waved a gnarled hand in dismissal. “Well, then, you have nothing to worry about.”
The weighty lies lifted from his shoulders. He could breathe. Getting to his feet, he leaned forward and shook Mr. Contrino’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Get to work,” he barked.
Vincenzo left for his office, grinning.
All that remained was Alicia.
Chapter 10
Alicia
Again. I let him do it to me again. Alicia dashed out the front door and jogged across the lawn, heading for the vineyard. She unclenched her fists, shaking out her hands.
Unable to sleep, she’d sat up late into the night with her laptop on her bed, searching for information about Vinnie’s family. Her research paid off. When he worked on the books, she discovered he had a particular interest in the money the company made, how the profits were used to improve the q
uality of the wine, and what the company did to market the wine and increase sales. When she spied Vincenzo writing notes he stuffed in his pockets, suspicions crawled up her spine like an army of spiders.
Digging deeper, she’d discovered Mr. Grassi owned Amalgamated Conglomerate Inc.—the infamous ACI he used for his legal pillaging. And her granddad’s property was prime. What she didn’t understand was how Grassi went about purchasing land. Her grandfather’s winery turned a wonderful profit….
Her feet pounded the fertile soil. So, is Vinnie here to mess up the books and show the business lost money? To hurt me is one thing, but to go after my grandfather…. She clenched her fists again. If only I knew more about how ACI operates. I’d confront Vincenzo. She gritted her teeth. No. I’d go directly to Nonno.
She inhaled deeply through her nose, letting the air out slowly through her mouth as she zigzagged through the vines. So, why did she feel betrayed all over again? She hadn’t let Vinnie get close to her—not like he’d been before.
But a small part of you hoped—
She stumbled to a stop. No. Not possible.
Then why did you react every time he came near or touched you?
Crap! She’d be stupid to get close to him again. She rounded back toward the house, dashing upstairs and hiding in the bathroom. She yanked off her sweaty clothes, tossing them in the clothes hamper. A moment later, several showerheads beat her tight muscles, relaxing, soothing.
She closed her eyes. Vincenzo’s handsome face filled her mind. Get out of my head! She grabbed the shampoo and lathered her hair. With her fingers she massaged her scalp, relieving the throb at the back of her head. With soapy hands she circled her plump breasts, the nipples hard. If only they were Vinnie’s capable hands. He always knew how to excite and make her want more. Slowly, she moved her hand down to her mound, her back against the tile, her fingers moving in rhythm. She rolled her head, every cracking bone releasing more tension. We had such wonderful sex. Her breathing accelerated. A moan escaped her lips. A satisfying explosion filled her body. She slapped her hands on the tile and leaned her forehead against them. Why did you walk out on me? Did you think me incapable of understanding you were a drunken party jerk? Seeing her fingertips wrinkled like old lemons, her heart still drumming the beat of lust, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.
~*~
Dressed in an elegant pantsuit, she headed for the office. Forgetting her promise not to lose her temper, she stormed into Nonno’s office. “Have you any idea what I’ve discovered about your favorite boy?” She banged the door, marching to the desk and slamming her fists on it.
“What is the meaning of this?” He leaned forward in his chair, furrowed his brows and parted his lips.
“Do you know who Vincenzo’s father is?”
“Is that what this is all about?” His light dismissal angered her even more.
“You know who the Grassi family is and what they do for a living?”
He grinned. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘keep your friends close, but your enemies closer’?”
Wait. He knows? “You’re showing your enemy all your financials. Do you want him to destroy our business?”
“First off, we are a family-owned business. Thank God I’ve been able to keep it from going public. As a private company, there are no stocks Mr. Grassi can purchase to acquire a majority, which is what he would need for a hostile takeover or voting rights to steer the company down a hole. Do you see any other ways he can destroy our business?”
“He can tamper with the books, showing a loss instead of profits.”
“How many other accountants do I have watching over the books?”
“You’re right. He could be discovered.” She paused. “He can tamper with the wines aging in the various sellers—”
“I notified Mr. Foundry to keep a look out for Vincenzo. Whenever he steps on the premises, Mr. Foundry is aware of the situation and keeps tabs on him.” He sighed. “Mr. Foundry and I grew up together, I trust him with my life.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this?”
“I know you well, my dear, and harboring resentment toward someone you need to work with would have created a tense environment not fit for business.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but instead, flopped on a chair. Seems he’s got everything covered. What else can I say?
Tell him how Vincenzo dumped you for another woman. How he broke your heart.
She nibbled on her bottom lip. No. That would only prove I have poor judgment of character.
Had. You had poor judgment.
“What have you discovered that has you so rattled?” He narrowed his gaze on her. “Besides the fact Vincenzo’s father purchases troubled businesses and sells them for a profit?”
She couldn’t believe her ears. She sat up on the edge of her chair, the new four-inch-high Prada pinching her feet. “Fire him.”
His bushy eyebrows rose. “What?”
How could she work with Vincenzo, knowing what his real purpose had been from the start? “I want you to fire him, Nonno. He is out to hurt you.”
“I’ve been around awhile. Enough that I can read people. This particular young man will do nothing to hurt me.”
She jumped to her feet. “How can you say such a thing?”
“Let’s give it a little time, and, if in a month you feel the same, I’ll fire him.”
“A month?” she squawked. That’s crazy! “Why such a long time?”
He stood, came out from behind his desk, and took her hands in his. “Believe me, it’s not a long time.”
His large hands engulfed her, making her feel safe, protected. She peered up at him. “He can do a lot of damage in one month.”
“We shall see.” He kissed her forehead. “Now, I need you to put on your charming smile and get to work.”
Easy for him to say.
Chapter 11
Vincenzo
Vincenzo sat in the office Mr. Contrino assigned him. He stared at the parking structure outside his window. No complaints. Most young accountants occupied cubicles. The nametag with his title had arrived and hung on his door. How did they fuck up my name? A simple name, in his opinion, yet it took three tries before they spelled it right. I can’t complain. Mr. Contrino also had him pick out the furniture for his office. Vincenzo had never worked for a nicer boss. The supervisors of some of the apprenticeship jobs he had while in college had been total jerks, treating the students with disrespect and animosity.
Unable to concentrate on work, he headed out to confront his father. Anyway, he already signed a lease on the apartment. What can he do but throw me out.
Rushing to the elevator, he bumped into Alicia. His heart flipped. Will she ever forgive me? He grabbed her shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?” She seemed a bit dazed.
“Damn! What do you have, rocks for muscles?”
He laughed. “Glad you’re fine. I’m leaving for a couple of hours. Can you please let Mr. Contrino know I’ll be back before lunch?” Before she could ask any questions, he hurried to the elevator. Luck had it the doors stood wide open.
He drove down Broad Street toward Seventh Street and found parking on the curb. After filling the meter, he marched to his father’s office. The unusual cool summer breeze refreshed his flushed face as he hurried along the sidewalk with other folks heading to work.
Up on the sixth floor, he exited the elevator and approached the receptionist’s counter. “Good morning, Margaret. Is my father in?”
“Yes, shall I announce you?”
“No, don’t bother.” He strolled away, determined to surprise him. Barging in the office without knocking, he took pleasure in his father’s flabbergasted expression.
“What are you doing here?” Mr. Grassi’s neck stretched forward as he blinked several times. Vincenzo knew the nervous gesture well. “Have you been fired?” He bounced to his feet.
“No, I haven’t been fired.” H
e walked to the desk and dropped on one of the chairs reserved for clients. “I have questions and want honest answers.”
“What can be so important for you to leave your work?” His father relaxed into his chair.
“Why are you out to destroy Contrino Vineyards?” With his voice unsteady, he sat up straighter to hide his nerves.
Dad leaned forward and, intertwining his fingers, placed his hands on the desk. “This isn’t the time for storytelling.”
Vincenzo didn’t like the smirk on his face and folded his arms. “If I don’t know the whole story, I’m not leaving.”
His dad must have seen the determined expression on his face because he said, “Let’s go get a cup of coffee.” He stood and they strolled out of the office and building together.
As they arrived to the nearest café, his father said, “Your great-great grandfather and Mr. Contrino’s grandfather went way back. Their mothers were childhood friends in Italy, and the two women swore they would get to America and live the good life. They made it across the ocean and ended up marrying two cousins, my great grandmother married Michele Grassi and her friend married Pasquale Contrino.”
Vincenzo took advantage of his father’s pause to say, “Then we are related.”
“They are very distant relatives.” He stopped at the counter to order two coffees. “Things got complicated. The cousins’ grandfather favored Michele over Pasquale and left him all the lands and the wine business.” They sat at a table near the window. “The cousins fought saying Michele had no business sense and would run the vineyard to the ground, no pun intended. The girlfriends stopped talking. As Pasquale predicted, Michele almost lost the vineyard and begged his cousin to help him. Pasquale agreed, and while he worked his tail off restoring the business to a state of profit, Michele started his series of affairs. Fearing what might happen to the business, Pasquale bought Michele’s portion of the company and kicked him out. I promised my father we’d own the vineyard once more. So you see, I’m not out to destroy and sell the property, I just want the vineyard returned to its rightful owners, the Grassi family.”