The Vineyard at Painted Moon

by Susan Mallery

  Another lawyer? “I don’t suppose it’s something my divorce lawyer could handle.”

  “No. You need someone who understands contracts.”

  She nodded. “Why did Rhys give me your name as a potential partner?”

  “I’ve talked to him about buying something. I wanted his advice.” He rose. “We need to keep this quiet, Mackenzie. Rhys can know but no one else.”

  “I agree. I won’t say anything. Not even to Stephanie.”

  He held out his hand. “Then we’re moving forward with this?”

  She, stood, shook his hand and smiled. “Is this like a gentleman’s agreement?”

  “It is.”

  She laughed. “Painted Moon. I can’t tell you how excited I am. Let me know when we can go talk to Herman. I can’t wait to taste what he has in the barrels and tour the vineyards.”

  “I’ll get in touch with him today, then call you.”

  “Thanks.”

  She stepped out into the hallway and forced herself to walk normally to the elevator when what she wanted to do was dance and skip and spin. Painted Moon! There were so many possibilities. She knew the vineyards Herman owned and the quality of the grapes. There was so much potential, so much she could make happen. Between now and when she heard from Bruno, she was going to keep positive thoughts and try not to smile too much. Bruno was right—no one could know what they were considering. But she knew—and for now that was plenty.

  twelve

  Stephanie pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. Even as she turned off her car engine, she thought about simply going home instead. She wasn’t up for dinner out, but Kyle had caught her at a weak moment, and his claim that he was interested in dinner and not sex had reassured her. Not that she was worried about giving in to him. She was still dealing with the aftermath of her bad reaction to Mackenzie telling her about the divorce. While she’d made up with her sister-in-law, she was shocked about her behavior, and doing the wild thing was not on her radar.

  She got out of the car. She’d put on makeup, she might as well have a nice meal. Maybe hanging out with Kyle would take her mind off things. He was easy company, she reminded herself.

  She gave her name to the hostess and was shown back to a corner table. Kyle smiled and rose as she approached.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  The silly greeting made her smile in return. “Hardly,” she said, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Although you look good.”

  He did, as always. Well-groomed, classically handsome with blond hair and blue eyes. There was a reason he was successful on TV and it wasn’t just his love of sports. Women adored him—they always had. Sadly for their marriage, he’d adored them right back.

  “Just so we’re clear,” she said, “I meant what I said on the phone. There will be no seducing.”

  He pressed a hand to his chest. “You wound me. I said just dinner and I meant it.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Really? Because Seattle is about a six-hour drive.”

  “I was in Pullman,” he told her. “I had an interview with one of the football coaches.”

  “So I’m a convenient stop on your way home.” The news was reassuring.

  She looked around the trendy bistro. “I haven’t been here in forever. The food is really good, as is the wine list. Sadly I drove, so only a glass for me.”

  “We’ll get a bottle. If you have too much to drink, you can text Avery to come get you. Your car will be safe in the parking lot.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m staying at a hotel nearby. Avery and I are having brunch in the morning.”

  “You are? She never said anything to me.” Great. First she’d been a horrible friend and now she and her daughter weren’t communicating at all.

  “Stop,” he said gently. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s wrong. I texted her ten minutes ago and set up brunch. I waited until I knew I had a room in town.”

  “Oh. That’s better.”

  He gave her best smile. “Why do you always go to the bad place?”

  “You can’t know that’s what I was thinking.”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak. She sighed.

  “Fine. I was thinking she and I never communicate anymore, except when we fight. Did she tell you I’m keeping her from the love of her life?”

  “She mentioned you were being difficult about all the summer parties she’s been invited to.”

  “I’m worried about her sleeping with Alexander. She’s too young and he’s going to break her heart.”

  “You’re a good mom.”

  “I wish.”

  Their server appeared and took their drink orders. Stephanie decided to take Kyle up on his suggestion about Avery picking her up and ordered a cocktail. He did the same.

  When they were alone again, she said, “Carson’s having a good time at baseball camp. His ERA is fantastic.”

  “Down a full point from last year. And his hitting is getting better.”

  “He gets his athletic ability from you,” she admitted.

  “I want to take credit, but I think our son is just a quirk of nature. No one on my side is as gifted as he is.”

  She smiled. “Maybe he’ll get a multimillion-dollar contract and buy us each a house.”

  “We both already have a house.”

  “I wouldn’t mind one a little farther from my mother.”

  “You could move back to Seattle.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “And do what? My skill set is very limited.”

  “Is that what you’ve been upset about?”

  She stared at him. “How do you know I’ve been upset?”

  “Avery told me there was something going on.”

  “I’m amazed she noticed. So that’s why you wanted to have dinner? You’re checking up on me?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  “Not checking up. I’m concerned. You’re my kids’ mother and we’ve always been friends.” He leaned toward her. “Tell me what’s going on, Steph. I want to help.”

  She debated whether or not she could trust him. “You have to keep it to yourself.”

  He made an X over his heart. “Scout’s honor. Tell me.”

  She explained about Mackenzie and Rhys. “I was so shocked,” she admitted. “I didn’t handle it well, at all. I yelled at her for changing everything, because I didn’t want my life upset.” She covered her face with her hands. “I was a terrible friend and I’m so embarrassed and ashamed of how I behaved. I should have been supportive and I wasn’t.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “Oh, please. I completely let her down.”

  “Did you go back and apologize?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re fine. You made a mistake and you corrected it. Of course it was a shock. Rhys and Mackenzie have been together since you were in college. Having them split up screws with the family dynamic.”

  Their server appeared with their drinks. He had a whiskey and soda while she’d chosen a margarita on the rocks.

  “I’m still beating myself up about all of it,” she told him.

  “Is that your way of distracting yourself from what’s actually happening? You have to be sad about the divorce.”

  She glared at him. “Where do you get off being so insightful? Stop it right now.”

  He grinned. “I can’t help it, Steph. Sometimes I’m impressive. Admit it.”

  “Sometimes,” she grumbled, then sighed. “Am I using guilt to protect myself from what’s really going on with them? Maybe. I don’t know. It makes me sad. Plus I had no idea they were unhappy.”

  “You’re kidding. How could you not know? They never acted like a couple. They didn’t talk to each other or touch or even sit together at meals.”


  “Why didn’t I see it?”

  “You were too close. I came in every now and then so it was easier to figure out the pattern. I’m not saying they hate each other, but they weren’t a couple.”

  “So you’re not surprised about the divorce?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. She should go out on her own.” He sipped his drink. “Which leaves you screwed. You’re trying to get up the courage to find another job and suddenly Mackenzie snaps up the only chance to leave.”

  All of which sounded sensible in her head, but ridiculous when he said it.

  “There’s not just one chance to get away,” she said defensively. “It’s not like the last seat on a plane. I could still leave if I wanted.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying it but I doubt you believe it.”

  She deflated. “I don’t. As soon as she told me, I felt like my only chance to escape had been stolen from me. I’m so weak.”

  “You’re not weak, you just don’t know what you want. You have a sweet deal. You live in a great house that you own, your kids are happy, you have family nearby. Sure, a part of you wants more—a job you like that challenges you—but there’s a price for that. Why rock the boat?”

  She took a gulp of her margarita. “You’re saying I’m spineless.”

  “I’m saying you’re comfortable. That makes it hard to do the work that change requires.”

  He was telling the truth but she sure didn’t like what it said about her.

  “I need to be a better person,” she grumbled.

  “You need to decide what you really want.”

  “I went on an interview. Sort of.” She told him about the meeting with the twins. By the end of the story, he was laughing.

  “So are they having sex?”

  “Yuck, they’re brother and sister, so don’t even think that. And why do you have to go right to the sex question?”

  “I’m a guy. It’s what we do.”

  “Well, stop it. Sex isn’t the answer to everything. Look at us. We’re doing much better now that we’ve stopped having sex.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  She ignored the comment. No way she was stepping back into that mess. Sleeping with Kyle was nothing but a distraction. Sort of like her semi-great life. She was just comfortable enough to not be motivated to find something better.

  “I need goals,” she said firmly. “And a plan to achieve them.”

  He leaned close and smiled at her. “How about we start with a second round of drinks? Then we’ll conquer the world.”

  She raised her glass. “I’m in.”

  * * *

  Mackenzie felt like she was four and it was the night before Christmas. She was excited and happy and filled with anticipation and possibilities. In her head she knew there were about a thousand steps to be taken between where she and Bruno were and buying Painted Moon, but just thinking about what could happen made her so happy.

  Over the next couple of days, she did her job at Bel Après, but all her downtime was spent thinking about what she would want to do differently if given the chance. She had so many ideas, so many things she wanted to try and change and expand.

  Rather than talk to Rhys, she contacted her divorce lawyer for a recommendation for a business lawyer who could help with the partnership agreement. A two-hour phone call and yet another check for five thousand dollars later, she officially had her second lawyer on retainer. Along with the contract and the receipt for the check, the lawyer had sent her a list of articles to read on starting a partnership, including a couple on pitfalls and mistakes the novice could make. He’d included an NDA that she could print out as needed and get people to sign.

  As she’d promised Bruno, she didn’t say anything to anyone—not Rhys or Stephanie, although it was difficult to keep quiet. At times she thought she would burst from the gloriousness of the secret.

  She drove back from inspecting the vineyards in Oregon. Midday, midweek meant the traffic wasn’t bad and she got to her office in time for a late lunch. The chef had left quinoa salads with a peanut dressing, which sounded delicious. Mackenzie was starving—she’d skipped breakfast to get an early start on her day.

  As she poured the small container of dressing over the vegetables, grains and chickpeas, she wondered if Rhys had slipped away for a fast-food lunch. He refused to eat quinoa on principle. Something about being a guy and standing in solidarity against grain oppression.

  She was still smiling about that when he walked into the upstairs break room, a large envelope in his hand.

  “I was just thinking about you,” she said with a laugh and waved her salad. “Did you eat yours?”

  Instead of grinning back at her, he half turned away. “I went out for lunch.”

  “Rhys? What’s wrong?”

  He tensed, then faced her again, his expression serious. “Nothing. Did you look at the Seven Hills vineyards?”

  “Yes. The irrigation is working fine and I’m loving how the grapes are ripening. We’re going to have a good year.”

  He made a motion toward the hallway with his hand. A man she didn’t know walked in. “Mackenzie Dienes?”

  She looked from the stranger to Rhys and back. “Yes.”

  “I didn’t know how to do this,” Rhys told her. “I didn’t know the right time or—”

  The other man took the envelope Rhys held and offered it to her. She instinctively took it.

  “You’ve been served,” the man said and walked out.

  Mackenzie stared at Rhys. “I don’t understand.”

  He hunched a little. “I know. It’s the divorce papers.”

  She nearly dropped the envelope as the meaning of his words sunk in. Divorce papers? Yes, she’d seen a lawyer, and this was where they were headed, but she hadn’t thought, hadn’t expected...

  All the happiness of the previous days evaporated, taking her upbeat mood with it. Her body seemed to deflate, as if she were getting smaller and smaller and would, in a very short time, disappear.

  Slowly, carefully, she put the large envelope on the counter and fought against the need to scrub her hands until every trace of the paper had been erased.

  “Mackenzie?”

  “It’s okay,” she said, not looking at him and hoping she sounded less upset than she was. “We talked about this. It’s the next step, right?” She faked a smile as she finally turned to him. “I’ll look these over, then get a copy to Ramona to review.”

  His gaze searched her face. “Are you all right?”

  “Perfectly fine. Don’t worry.” She drew in a breath and went for perky. “At some point we’re going to have to come up with a plan on who we’re telling and when. I guess that’s on me, with Barbara and all. I’m thinking we could mention the divorce first and leave the other stuff until I know what I’m doing. Just not today. If it could not be today, that would be great. We have the family dinner tomorrow, but we can pretend for that, can’t we? Unless you’re going to bring someone, in which case—”

  He put his hands on her upper arms. “Mackenzie, stop talking.”

  “All right.”

  “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I thought you were ready.”

  “I am,” she lied.

  “I hope that’s true. I’m not trying to rush you.”

  The words were just right, but his actions belied the truth of them. Or maybe he really wasn’t rushing, but instead was going at his speed, which was a lot closer to “get this over now” than hers was.

  “We don’t have to say anything to my family until you’re ready. We’ll be fine at the dinner, just like our living arrangements are working out for us.”

  He was right about that. They were still in the same house, living the lives they’d had before. How sad was it that getting a divorce had changed so little? And if that was true, why
did she feel so awful inside?

  “Thank you.” She stepped back and forced herself to pick up the envelope. “Thanks for getting me these.”

  He watched her cautiously. “There’s a tentative settlement agreement in there. It’s what we talked about. I want to be fair.”

  “I appreciate that. I’ll talk to Ramona.”

  He hesitated a second, then opened the break room door and left. Mackenzie glanced from the envelope to her salad. She picked up the latter and dropped it into the trash. On the way to her office, she swung by the bathroom and threw up the meager contents of her stomach. After rinsing out her mouth, she leaned against the cool tiles and told herself she wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t—not without everyone wondering what was wrong. So from now until she could go home, she would have to pretend that everything was going to be all right. Even if she knew it wasn’t.

  * * *

  Mackenzie stood in her closet, not sure what to wear to dinner. Every few weeks, Barbara called for a family dinner. Attendance was mandatory. Normally Mackenzie looked forward to the get-togethers as a chance to catch up with everyone and hang out with the people she loved most in the world. But not tonight—not when she and Rhys were working their way through a divorce and she was considering leaving Bel Après. Pretending normalcy under those circumstances was going to require a level of acting ability she was fairly sure she didn’t possess.

  Still, not going wasn’t an option, so she studied the dresses hanging in her closet and hoped one of them would provide a little courage.

  She settled on a simple sheath with a square neckline. The dark green fabric brought out the red in her hair. She stepped into a pair of nude pumps and returned to the bathroom, where she checked that her minimal makeup was all right, then walked downstairs.

  Rhys, already showered and changed into dress pants and a long-sleeved shirt, was at his computer. He was typing and smiling. She was about to ask what he was doing when he looked up and saw her. His smile faded and his gaze darted away from her to the screen and back. If she had to pick an emotion from the look on his face, she would say he was feeling guilty. Why on earth—