by Judy Duarte
It wasn’t the greatest game plan, but it was the best she had. “Come on, Doc. I’ll show you around.”
She pointed out the tasting room, as well as La Viña, then led him to the winery office. She opened the door and found Esteban and Alejandro bent over a desk and going over an order.
Esteban straightened. He glanced first at Schuyler, then focused his gaze on Everett. He wasn’t wearing his usual smile, which was odd, but she’d probably interrupted a business conversation.
Schuyler introduced the men to Everett, mentioning the title he’d earned and explaining he was her brother. At that, Esteban seemed to forget business matters and smiled.
“Where’s Carlo?” she asked.
Esteban was the first to answer. “He and his brothers took the truck and went to the distribution center at Austin Commons.”
The fact that Carlo wasn’t around was both reassuring and disappointing. She realized that was why a relationship with him wouldn’t be in her best interests. Her feelings for him were too complicated, too confusing.
“Doctor, how long will you be in town?” Alejandro asked.
“Just a day or so. I’m trying to talk Schuyler into going back to Houston with me.”
Esteban arched a brow. “Is it working?”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them back. “I never expected to remain in Austin very long.”
“Then I guess that means you won’t be interested in taking on a full-time position here,” Alejandro said. “I’m sorry to see you go, but if you ever decide to relocate to Austin, you have a job here.”
A single tear overflowed, and she swiped it away, hoping no one had seen it. She had to clear her throat before she could trust herself to speak. “Thanks, Alejandro. Anyway, I guess I’ll be back around one o’clock this afternoon for that wine tasting.”
She glanced at her brother, then nodded at the door, signaling she was ready to leave. She’d held it together the best she could, but if they didn’t go now, she’d fall completely apart.
* * *
After a quick tour of Austin, which didn’t take very long since Schuyler was pretty much a tourist herself, she and Everett stopped at a trendy sandwich shop not far from Austin Commons. They ordered lunch at the counter, then found a quiet table nearby and waited until a teenage server brought them their food.
When the young man had gone back behind the counter, she picked up her fork, then said, “I’d like for you to go with me to that tasting at the winery this afternoon. Regardless of how things turned out for me here, I love their wine. And I know you will, too. I dare you not to order a case or two to take home with you.”
“With us, right?”
Reluctantly, she agreed. It was for the best.
Everett bit into his sandwich, and Schuyler had no more than taken a forkful of her salad when the door of the eatery opened and two women walked in. Schuyler didn’t give them a second glance, but Everett did.
He straightened, then set down his sandwich.
“What’s the matter?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched the women order a couple of brownies to go.
“Do you know them?” she asked.
“The redhead is Lila Clark.”
Schuyler put down her fork and studied her brother’s rather perplexing expression. “Who’s she?”
“A girl I dated in high school.” He continued to study her, as if the surprise sighting had thrown him for a loop.
Schuyler could see why. There was a quiet beauty about Lila. And her long straight auburn hair was striking. She wore a floral-printed skirt and a matching pale green blouse. She also had on a pair of ballet flats, which made Schuyler wonder if she was a little self-conscious about her height. Not that she was that tall.
“I was just a kid when you were in high school,” Schuyler said, “but I never knew you dated anyone. You always had your nose in a book.”
Apparently, he’d set those books down once in a while.
“What’s she doing in Austin?” Schuyler asked.
“I have no idea. I haven’t seen her in more than a decade.”
“You should go say hello.”
Everett slowly shook his head. “No, that’s not a good idea. We’ve both moved on, created different lives.”
Maybe so, but he continued to watch Lila, his eyes pained. Did she dare ask what had gone wrong? Why they’d split up?
“Lila looks good,” he said. “But her eyes aren’t as bright as I remember.”
“Maybe she’s having a bad day.”
“Maybe.” Everett studied her a bit longer. “But there’s something sad about her.”
Schuyler had no way of knowing. And she wasn’t sure what to say.
Oddly enough, after Lila and her friend left with their brownies in a small bag, Everett stopped talking to her about leaving Austin. Instead, he looked up, his gaze locked on hers. “If you love Carlo, you should fight for him—the way I should have fought for Lila.”
If Schuyler hadn’t been so wrapped up in her own hurts, she might have quizzed her brother more about his broken teenage romance.
Instead, she pondered his advice. Fight for Carlo.
Schuyler had never needed to fight for anything. But then again, she’d never wanted anything that badly.
Meeting the Fortunes had come close, which was why she was here.
Carlo was definitely worth fighting for—if she could guarantee a win.
What would Glammy do?
Maybe there was a better question. What was Schuyler going to do?
Chapter Twelve
Everett remained quiet and pensive on the drive to the winery. Schuyler suspected he was reflecting on Lila and his high school days. Then again, he could just as easily be pondering a medical issue facing one of his patients back home.
She might have asked him to share his thoughts with her, but she was too busy trying to figure out what she was going to say to Carlo when she got him alone.
When Everett suggested that she “fight” for him, she’d agreed. But she wasn’t sure how to go about that. It wasn’t like she could actually do anything to change his mind or convince him to give up his bachelor lifestyle and settle down with one woman, namely her.
Maybe she should start out by laying it on the line. She could tell him how she felt, then apologize for not sticking to the agreement they had to keep things light and simple. At that point, the ball would be in his court.
She stole another glance at her brother, who was gazing out the passenger window, watching the landscape pass by. She was tempted to draw him out of his musing so she could practice what she was going to say to Carlo, but that was one speech she’d have to come up with on her own.
When they arrived at the winery, she didn’t see Carlo’s car, which was a little surprising. Was he trying to avoid her? Her chest tightened at the thought, squeezing her heart, which was already crushed.
Well, she’d just have to wait until he returned. Then she’d face him and whatever resulted from her confession, whether that was tears or hugs and kisses.
But hey. Life wasn’t meant to be boring—or predictable. Right?
Rather than take Everett with her to the tasting room, she stopped by the office first. That way, she could ask someone where Carlo went and when he’d be back.
That someone was Alejandro, who sat at his desk. When Schuyler and Everett entered, he looked up from his work and smiled.
“Is Carlo around?” she asked, even though she knew he wasn’t.
“He was here.” Alejandro set his pen aside. “But he left when Esteban told him you were planning to leave town.”
What was that supposed to mean? Was Alejandro suggesting that Carlo had reacted negatively to the news? That he might actually feel more for her than he’d admitted to? That he
was saddened to hear she was going back to Houston?
Maybe she’d read him wrong.
“I get the sense that you care for him,” Alejandro said.
“You’re right. I didn’t want it to happen, and neither did he. But I fell in love with him.” She bit down on her bottom lip, then looked to Alejandro, hoping he had some answers for her. “Did he say anything about me? About us?”
“No, he was pretty tight-lipped. But don’t follow his lead. You two really need to talk it out.”
Alejandro was right. She glanced at Everett, who was nodding in agreement.
“All right,” she said. “Where did he go?”
“Home. He lined up Ricardo to pour at the tasting this afternoon and then gave him a list of things to do for him while he was gone. He said he needed to get away for a while.”
That didn’t sound good. Something was definitely wrong. And a phone call wasn’t going to fix it.
She turned to Everett. “I need to talk to him alone.”
“You’re right.”
And that meant she had to leave Everett here. “Alejandro, do you mind entertaining my brother while I’m gone?”
“No, not at all.”
“Maybe you could let him have a taste of the Red River. Everett has always been partial to merlot.” Then she hurried out the door, reaching into her purse for her keys before getting anywhere near her car.
* * *
Carlo had never felt such a strong compulsion to escape, to get his head together. Schuyler was leaving. And not some day in the near future. Apparently she was going now.
When his father had told him that she’d made plans to return to Houston, the axis that held his world together had shifted, leaving him stunned.
“Her brother was with her,” his father had added. “He’s a doctor and seems like a nice guy.”
The good doctor must have influenced her decision to go, although Carlo wasn’t entirely sure anyone could actually persuade Schuyler to do anything. But that didn’t really matter.
She was going. He was hurting. And he’d be damned if he wanted anyone to know that she’d had that big of an effect on him.
That meant he couldn’t hang around the winery, where someone was bound to pick up on his mood. And he couldn’t very well slip off without letting his cousin know what he had in mind. So he’d gone in search of Alejandro and found him in the office.
“Listen,” Carlo had said, “I’m going to need to take some time off.”
“Sure. It’s not like you haven’t earned it. When?”
“Now. I’ll fill in Ricardo on the things he’ll need to do to cover for me, then I’m going home to pack.”
Alejandro studied him for a moment, as if he could see right through him. “Does this have anything to do with Schuyler leaving town?”
Carlo’d slowly shook his head. “No, it’s a coincidence. I just need some time away.”
“Will a week be enough?”
Maybe. Hopefully. “Yes,” he’d said.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure.” The place would have to be warm and tropical, somewhere he could find a beach and let the ocean lull him and allow him to heal. “The Bahamas maybe. Possibly Belize or Cancún. I’ll figure it out on my way home.”
Damn. When had he ever taken off on a whim to parts unknown? He was behaving as impulsively as Schuyler. Still, it seemed to be the only thing he could do right now.
“Are you going to talk to Schuyler before you go?” Alejandro had asked.
“No, that’s not necessary.” It’s not like Carlo would be able to change her mind about leaving. Besides, she had her life to live, and he had his.
“Do you want to talk about this?” his cousin had asked.
“No, there really isn’t anything to talk about.” And certainly not with a happily married guy who’d probably forgotten what it was like to be single and carefree.
Alejandro wouldn’t understand what it felt like to have his life upended by a beautiful bohemian, to have his heart broken and then to have to figure out a way to pick up the pieces before anyone realized his vulnerability and his pain.
After thanking his cousin for understanding his need to get away, as well as his desire to keep his thoughts to himself, he went home to retrieve a few things he’d need on his upcoming trip—boxer briefs, casual shorts and T-shirts, a couple of swim trunks.
As he stacked them on top of the dresser, he couldn’t help noticing the tickets he’d purchased for tonight’s performance of Jersey Boys. He wouldn’t be using them now. Should he give them away?
Maybe Schuyler would like to take her brother. Then again, that would require him to talk to her, to meet with her so he could give her the tickets.
He’d just pulled his suitcase from the closet when his doorbell rang. He rarely got uninvited guests, so he couldn’t imagine who it could be.
He left his suitcase on the bed and went to open the door. His breath caught when he spotted Schuyler. She was dressed in that killer black dress she wore when she was a hostess for some of the wine tastings.
She offered him a shy smile, and his knees nearly buckled, weakening him even further. It wasn’t a good feeling.
He meant to act cordial, unaffected by her presence. But his tone came out a little harsh when he asked, “What are you doing here?” He didn’t apologize for it, though. Her arrival had taken him by surprise, and he was too broken up, too scattered to be polite.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I came by to...check on you.”
“Why? I’m fine.”
“Alejandro said you were taking some time off.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got some things to do that I’ve been putting off.”
“Does this have anything to do with me? With...us?”
Of course it did. Any fool could see that. Hell, Alejandro had figured it out, even if Carlo had refused to admit it. Surely Schuyler had, too. Wasn’t that why she was here? To tell him she was sorry that he’d let himself get in too deep? To explain why it was best for both of them if she left town? If it weren’t so freaking sad and painful, he’d laugh.
“No, Schuyler, my vacation doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Are you sure?”
At that, he almost laughed. If he told her the truth, she’d take off at a dead run back to Houston faster than a speeding bullet.
Don’t show any emotion. Think about your pride. You can do this.
“I’m sure.” The polite thing to do was to invite her inside, but he couldn’t do that.
“When are you leaving?” she asked.
“As soon as I finish packing.” He thought of the suitcase on the bed, the clothes he’d stacked next to those tickets.
Realizing they’d go to waste—and that she was already here—he said, “I’m not going to be able to see that show tonight, but I’ll give you the tickets. Your brother may enjoy seeing it.”
Her eye twitched, then she slowly shook her head. “No, we’ll be on the road to Houston by then. You’d better give them to someone else.”
“Okay. Drive carefully. If I don’t see you again, I hope you find everything you’re looking for.”
“Thanks. You, too.” She nodded toward the hall elevator. “I’d better go. My brother is back at the winery, waiting for me.”
He was tempted to tell her to keep in touch. But it was hard enough watching her go now. He’d be damned if he wanted to put himself through the pain again.
As the door clicked shut, he pondered his next move while regretting he had to make this one.
* * *
By the time Schuyler reached her car, hot tears were streaming down her face. She’d no more than swipe them away, when they’d spill over again.
She’d been wrong. Carlo didn’t feel an
ything special for her.
You two need to talk, Alejandro had said.
Yeah, right. And just look where that stupid advice had gotten her. Her heart ached more than ever, and her pride had all but been crushed.
On the upside, he’d offered to give her the two tickets to Jersey Boys. She rolled her eyes at the absurd gesture. There was no way she’d be able to go out this evening and enjoy the show. As it was, she’d have to avoid her favorite oldies radio station so she wouldn’t hear a song by the Four Seasons and remember the man she lost.
When she reached the winery and parked, she glanced at her image in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were so red and puffy, she’d never be able to hide the fact that she was heartbroken.
Everyone would know, and then they’d tell Carlo.
But so what? At this point, nothing seemed to matter anymore.
She got out of the car, slammed the door and made her way into the winery office, where her brother was sipping on red wine. A fancy white cardboard box bearing the Mendoza label rested next to him.
So she’d been right. He did like that merlot enough to purchase a case to take home.
When Everett looked at her face and realized she’d been crying, he got to his feet, set his wineglass aside and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry, Schuyler. I take it things didn’t go very well.”
“Good guess.” She pulled free of his brotherly embrace and gestured toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go. I need to get out of here. If we get on the road within an hour, we’ll be back in Houston before dark.”
All she had to do was pack. It wouldn’t take long to get her things together, but she’d need to get the dogs’ stuff, too. She’d also have to tell Dottie she was leaving.
She had a feeling that Dottie would offer to keep Fluff and Stuff, but Schuyler couldn’t leave them behind. Having the dogs to care for might help ease her pain, if that was even possible. But at least she wouldn’t be entirely alone.
Since Dottie was on a limited income, Schuyler would offer to pay her several months’ rent. It was only fair. And it would tide the kindhearted woman over until she found another tenant.