The Italian Sister (The Wine Lover's Daughter, Book 1)

by Christa Polkinhorn

  “You know I really want to import some of the estate wines and sell them together with my grandfather’s wine,” Nicholas said. “The funny thing is, Santucci senior approached me about it.”

  “Really?” Sofia was perplexed. “Why would he do this? Luisa told me he hated Americans. He certainly doesn’t have any kind feelings toward me.”

  Nicholas shrugged and took another sip of coffee. “I was surprised myself. Although the old Santucci always behaved rather cool toward me, he was never actually hostile.”

  “Well, I guess you’re not an impostor like me who is stealing his vineyards, the ones he almost ruined with his careless investments,” Sofia said in slightly bitter tone.

  “Yes, I guess I’m not an immediate threat to him. He probably feels he could make some money going into business with me. Lately he has become almost chatty.” Nicholas picked up his cup and downed the rest of his espresso.

  “He must be nuts. He doesn’t even own the estate anymore. He looks like a jealous lunatic to me,” Sofia said.

  Nicholas nodded. “He’s weird all right, although once in a while he makes a level-headed even intelligent remark about winemaking. At one time, he must have been good at it. He may still have an interest in the estate. Sometimes I see him discuss stuff with his son.”

  “So what is it he actually wants from you?” Sofia wondered.

  “He hasn’t said anything specific. He just asked if I would be willing to import some wine and sell it in California. I told him I was going to think about it. It may not be a bad deal, I guess. If I can get a good price for the wine here, I can sell it in California and make some money from it. Any addition to my savings would be welcome.”

  “I think the old man can’t let go of the business,” Sofia said. “It’s as if he wants to get involved again. But I don’t see how he can do it, since he doesn’t own the estate anymore. Unless he does it together with Edoardo.” Sofia brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Anyway, I don’t want to spend the evening talking about the old nut case,” she said, her voice sounding somewhat irritated.

  “Oh, no, neither do I. Sorry I brought it up. Is there any espresso left?”

  “Yes, of course, I’ll get some more.” Sofia was glad they changed the subject. The talk about the old Santucci made her feel uncomfortable. She wondered why he all of a sudden seemed to take an interest in Nicholas.

  Sofia brought two cups of espresso and they sat next to each other on the sofa near the floor-length window. Outside the last light of the day faded and it was getting dark fast. A breeze kicked up and brought the scent of dry grass and a whiff of jasmine.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” Sofia said, sipping her coffee.

  Nicholas nodded. “It really is. I’ve been looking forward the whole year to this.”

  “Are you coming again next year?” Sofia asked.

  “I may not be able to, since I’ll be busy with the harvest back in California. This year, my brother helped my grandfather but he may not be able to do it next year. What about you?”

  Sofia glanced at him and noticed again his dark eyes that formed an interesting contrast to his blond hair. A warm sensation spread through her chest. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be back, at least for the harvest. I just realized how much I enjoy the work. It’s such a great change from only writing about wine.”

  “I’d love to read some of your stuff,” Nicholas said.

  The bougainvillea in the corner of the patio swayed in the breeze. A thin layer of mist hovered over the grass, the first signs of the approaching fall. Sofia got up and turned on one of the lamps, then closed the balcony door to prevent the mosquitoes from flying in. She left the two windows with the screens open. “I have one of the magazines with an article of mine here. You’re welcome to read it.”

  “I know you’re very involved in the vineyard here, but … have you ever thought of getting back into winemaking in California?” Nicholas asked.

  Sofia shrugged. “Sometimes, yes. I regret having lost the vineyard after my divorce and also my father’s vineyards up at the Russian River. I have fond memories of helping him work.” Sofia paused. “But now, having a vineyard here, that’s probably going to take up most of my time aside from my job as writer.”

  “Are you thinking of living here permanently?” Nicholas’s voice sounded hesitant.

  “I really don’t know yet. So many unexpected things have happened this year that I kind of gave up making plans. I’d love to be closer to my sister and be more involved in the day-to-day activities of the vineyard. But I do have ties to California as well, to my aunt, my grandparents, and I have friends there.” Sofia stopped, realizing she was thinking out loud. She smiled. “How about that for a non-answer?”

  “I fully understand. It’s all so new for you and probably confusing. But if you ever think about doing winemaking in California, I’m looking for a partner.”

  There was an intensity in his eyes that surprised her.

  Nicholas averted his gaze and looked down at his slender but strong workman’s hands. “I think I mentioned it before. My plan is to have my own outfit. My grandfather plans to retire one of these years and he wants me to take over his vineyards. Eventually, I would also like to buy some additional property. It will take time and I need a lot more money for it than I have now.” He looked at her again, his eyes warm now. “I’d love to work with you. You’re perfect for this. You’re passionate about winemaking. You love the vines, the grapes, the work. You remind me of your father.” He chuckled. “Except you’re a lot more beautiful.”

  Was he blushing? It was hard to tell in the dim light of the lamp. Sofia’s heart beat faster. He had hinted at working together before but never so directly and with so much fervor. And there seemed to be more to his offer than just a business proposal. She took a deep breath. “I’ll definitely think about it. Once I can figure out what to do with my life. Right now, it’s just …”

  “I know,” he said. “Just think about it.” He took a deep breath. “I better get some sleep. I think tomorrow will be another busy day.” He got up and picked up his empty espresso cup.

  “Just leave it,” Sofia said. “I’ll get it later.” She followed him to the door.

  He turned around. “Thank you very much for an excellent dinner … and a lovely evening.” He hugged her and gave her a light kiss on the cheek.

  Alone in her house, she thought about the evening, about Nicholas and his offer. “Winemaking in California, with Nicholas?” It was tempting. He was a nice guy. “Come on, Sofia,” she told herself quietly. “He is more than nice.” But what would this mean for her work here? As if her life wasn’t complicated enough already. She took a deep breath, washed the espresso cups and went upstairs to go to bed.

  Chapter 26

  After the Merlot grapes had been crushed, they were being pressed. The “must”—skins, pulps, and seeds—which had been fermenting for about a week were being siphoned into the wine press, a large contraption made of shiny stainless steel. Here the last of the juice was extracted from the solids and fed back into the fermentation tanks for the extended fermentation, also called extended maceration, that would last four to six weeks, depending on the type of grape varietal and wine made. Later, the juice was fed into the barrels and aged for several years.

  After work, Sofia stopped once again at the cellar. She wanted to check out her barrels without being disturbed. After making sure the forklift was unattended and there was no dangerous machinery around, she entered the barrel room. As she reached the end of one of the rows of barrels, she heard a noise. She stopped, feeling her heart beat pick up speed. What now?

  “Hello,” she called. “Chi è? Who is there?”

  A figure emerged from behind a row of barrels. It was Nicholas. “Hi there. What’s up?”

  Sofia exhaled relieved. “Oh, it’s you. I just heard a noise. Since my last experience in the cellar, I’ve become a little, well, let’s say, cautious.”

  Nichol
as grinned. “No wonder. It’s not every day, someone tosses a wine barrel at you. I was actually checking the status of the wine in some of the barrels.” He walked up to her. “Besides I love the cellar. It’s the only pleasantly cool place in the afternoon.”

  “You’re right. I just wanted to have a look at the barrels of wine from my father’s … well I guess from my vintage.” She sighed. “I’m still not used to the fact that they’re mine now.”

  Nicholas gave a quick nod. “It’ll take a while to sink in, I guess.” They walked to the rows of Sangiovese and Merlot wines. “Beautiful barrels,” Nicholas said. “I bet they’re made of French oak.”

  “Yes, Edoardo told me. They’re expensive but then only the best for my father.” Sofia smiled and lightly touched one of the light-brown barrels.

  “Yes, French oak seems to add just the right amount of spice,” Nicholas said.

  “It’s cold down here.” Sofia rubbed her arms.

  Nicholas nodded. “Let’s get warmed up by the Tuscan sun again. It’s actually quite a bit cooler now, at least in the early morning and at night. I even had to pull out my sweatshirt last night,” he said as they climbed the stairs.

  “You’re right and in October and November they expect some storms. I hope we’ll be done with the harvest by then … oh, no.” Sofia stopped short as they stepped outside. Silvio Santucci stood in front of the cellar, leaning on his cane.

  To her utter shock and surprise, the old man smiled at her. When Nicholas emerged from behind her, Silvio Santucci’s face stretched into an even bigger smile. He overwhelmed them with a flood of Italian and from the little Sofia understood it had to do with wine.

  Nicholas nodded and turned to Sofia. “He wants me to translate. He wants to know if you would be able to sell his wine in California.”

  Sofia looked at them perplexed. “I’m not sure how that would work exactly. Is it the wine from my fields or the wine from the estate in general?”

  Nicholas said a few words to the old man, who nodded and began to talk in rapid Italian to Sofia in a still friendly tone.

  “He means from the estate in general. Remember he asked me the same thing,” Nicholas continued. “I think he wants to start some business venture with the two of us, but I’m not sure what it actually is. I think we should ask Edoardo. He would probably know a little more what his father’s plans are. I’ll tell him, we’ll think about it and see if it would be possible.”

  Sofia agreed and Nicholas said a few words to Silvio who again continued his flood of Italian. It was the first time Sofia heard him talk in whole sentences, let alone carry on a conversation. Up to that moment, he’d mainly mumbled or grunted in her presence. After a while, he nodded and bowed slightly to Sofia. “Buona sera, signorina.” He turned around and walked slowly away, supporting himself with his cane.

  When he was out of earshot, Sofia shook her head. “I’m totally stunned. This is the first time he talked to me, even smiled at me, instead of shooting daggers at me with his eyes. What happened?”

  Nicholas chortled. “I don’t know either. He’s so strange sometimes. But perhaps he had a change of heart about you.”

  “Perhaps, but I just don’t trust him. He’s so erratic with his emotions.” Sofia looked after the old man, who made his way in the direction of Edoardo’s and Gina’s house. “But then again, maybe you’re right. Well, it would sure be nice, if he didn’t hate me anymore.” She glanced back at the cellar and shook her head.

  “How strange, every time I come to this cellar, something odd happens. First, some crazy drunk almost kills me with a wine barrel and now the old grouch Santucci made me a business offer. What is it? The magic of the wine?”

  Nicholas chuckled. “Well, in the case of the old drunk, it was more like dark magic.”

  Sofia accompanied him part of the way to his lodging. “Talk about dark forces. You know I never even thought about this. Our work, I mean turning grapes into wine, can be dangerous for some people.”

  “True, but alcohol is different things to different people. It is medicine to some, a pleasurable past-time for others and yes, I guess, it can have a damaging effect on people who don’t know how to handle it.” Nicholas shrugged. “I like to think that my work is geared toward the positive features of wine.”

  “I guess so,” Sofia said. “After all, most things can be used for both good and bad ends.” She sighed. “Or is this too pat an answer?”

  Nicholas put his arm briefly around her. “Think of what we would have to do to remove everything in this world that could conceivably cause harm to some people. We’d have to root out cocoa beans and sugar cane, because some people eat too much chocolate and sweets and get diabetes, or we couldn’t have any fatty food at all because some people are heavily overweight, well you know what I mean.” He chuckled.

  Sofia laughed. “That’s a good way of talking ourselves out of the dilemma, isn’t it? Anyway, time for me to get back to my place. I promised to help Julietta with her English homework.”

  “See you tomorrow then,” Nicholas said.

  On the way home, Sofia mused about the day’s strange event, about the old Santucci who seemed to have made a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn in his attitude toward her.

  “Italy, you sure are a mysterious country,” she muttered and grinned.

  Chapter 27

  “I do not know, Julietta,” Luisa said hesitantly.

  Luisa, Sofia, and Julietta sat in the living room after dinner at the main house and discussed Marco’s party Julietta was invited to. “I do not really know the family.”

  “Please, Mamma. I will not be alone. Monica is invited, too. And you have met Marco at my party.”

  “How are you going to get there?” Luisa asked quietly, as if she were debating the issue with herself. “And how are you going to get home after the party. One of us would have to drive you.”

  Julietta’s face lit up. She seemed to feel her mother relent. “Perhaps Sofia can drive me.”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t mind. No problem at all.” Sofia was happy to be able to support Julietta.

  “Well, I will talk to Monica’s mother about it and we will see.”

  “Thanks, Mamma.” Julietta hugged her mother.

  Luisa smiled. “I have not said ‘yes’ yet.”

  “I know you will,” Julietta said.

  Two days later, Sofia helped Julietta get ready for her party. Luisa had talked to Monica’s mother who felt it would be okay for the girls to attend. Sofia agreed to drive them to Marco’s home and Luisa had insisted on picking them up afterward.

  Julietta was wearing a yellow-and-blue patterned skirt and matching top. There had almost been a fight with her mother who felt the skirt was somewhat too short, but Sofia and Julietta convinced her that this was the fashion. Now, Sofia helped Julietta put on some makeup. When she was ready, Sofia looked her over and realized just how beautiful Julietta was with her long wavy chestnut-colored hair and her shiny purple-blue eyes.

  “You’re going to drive the boys crazy,” she said with a chuckle.

  Julietta winked at her. “I only hope to drive one boy a little crazy.”

  Sofia realized that her sister was in love. She put her arm around her. “I hope Marco deserves such a wonderful person like you.”

  They went over to the main house to say goodbye to Luisa and Donna who both showered Julietta with some last minute advice. Donna kissed her and told her to be careful with those men. Luisa said she would pick Julietta up at eleven, which led to another argument because Julietta wanted to be able to stay until midnight. They finally made a compromise of eleven thirty.

  In the car, Julietta gave a sigh of relief. “What do they think?” she mumbled exasperated. “I am not a child anymore. I can take care of myself.”

  Sofia chuckled. “For your parents and grandparents you will always be a child. Remember that. Even Henry who you know was very open-minded and quite easygoing used to stay up until I came home after a party. He could
never go to sleep, not knowing if I was all right or not.”

  “Yes, last time Papa was here, I went to the movies with a few friends in the evening. When I came back, he was still up and so was Mamma, although they always went to bed quite early. I guess that is natural, no?”

  On the way to Marco’s place, they picked up Monica. Like Julietta, she was dressed up for the party. She wore a tight short skirt and Sofia felt her make-up was a little on the heavy side for a girl her age. Monica was a year younger than Julietta. Am I getting old? Sofia wondered.

  The two girls were soon engaged in an excited conversation interrupted by giggling and from what Sofia could tell, the talk was all about the boys they were going to meet. In another fifteen minutes, they arrived at Marco’s house. It was one of those beautiful Tuscan villas, surrounded by a huge garden and one of the ever-present olive groves. The driveway and the road along the property were already filling up with young men and women, all of them dressed in elegant outfits. From what Julietta had told Sofia, Marco’s family was quite wealthy. His father was a banker and his mother some kind of high-society celebrity, a former actress. The other partygoers seemed to be quite a bit older than both Monica and Julietta and Sofia began to wonder if the two girls wouldn’t feel out of place in this kind of environment.

  Sofia parked the car along the road and the three of them got out. “This seems to be quite a fancy event. Who are all these people?” Sofia asked Julietta. “Do you know them?”

  “A few of the girls are from Marco’s class,” Julietta said hesitantly, as she scrutinized the other people. She seemed to have lost some of her enthusiasm and looked a little subdued. Perhaps she’d expected a slightly different crowd as well. But then her face lit up. “There is Marco.”

  A young man in an elegant suit stepped out of the house and greeted some of the newcomers. Sofia barely recognized him anymore, all dressed up. He had the looks of a high-society offspring and Sofia wondered about his interest in Julietta, who after all was from a different social class. When Marco saw them, he waved and came down the driveway.