It’s time for some fresh eyes. I must be missing a storage location that should be obvious to me but apparently isn’t.
“Michael, are you up for a project?” As one of our interns, this is the third year Michael has come to work for us. He grew up in the area and is studying to become a vineyard manager like his father. He’s a hard worker, someone I’d like to promote and bring up within Bellissima, though he knows that to be a good manager, he needs to start at the bottom. “I need an accurate counting of each barrel and location.”
“Not a problem. Is there something I should be looking for?”
“My inventory and counts aren’t matching, and I’m hoping you can help. We’ve outgrown our space, and it seems we may have been careless in some of our storage. This will take us the better part of a week. If anyone asks what you’re doing, you can tell them. If they have any other questions, send them to me. But I expect you to climb in some dusty areas and tag each barrel and mark their location.”
“Yes, sir.”
I send him in one direction, and I go in the other, each independently hand counting every barrel of wine we have on-site. His stickers are green, and mine are yellow, and I’m impressed that he got to some of our best wines in some of the hardest to reach spots. Unfortunately, we’re both coming up with the same number—we’re short an even fifty barrels, which leaves me with a pit in my stomach. Someone has stolen barrels of wine from us, though I don’t know how. Pretty sure I’d notice if someone pulled a truck up and took one barrel, let alone take fifty.
Sophia and I came up with the same amount of forty-one barrels missing. Now we’re at fifty. I’ll talk to my brothers about it, and together we’ll figure out where we’re going wrong.
I’m not ready to face that I have a thief at the winery. It can’t be. I trust everyone like they’re family. I mentioned it to Sophia, and she doesn’t think its possible either. We’re both racking our brains trying to figure out what’s going on.
I drive into San Francisco, where I’ll leave my car at Greer’s and take a ride share to the airport. My anxiousness about the trip begins to increase as I approach the city. My mind races, thinking about Greer constantly. I want her to have fun without any pressure. If my family’s too difficult, Greer could very well walk away. I take a few breaths to calm myself. I have to believe this time will be different. My mother is getting her wish, and I’m bringing Greer home. I think despite the language differences, they’ll get along famously.
My mother is disappointed that my daughter isn’t coming on this trip, which will add to the pressure on Greer. During our last call, I explained, “Unfortunately Genevieve can’t leave school to come home, but I’m bringing my new girlfriend, Greer, to see where I grew up.” I’ve set the expectation that I really like her, but it’s still somewhat new. Hopefully that’ll convince my brothers and sisters to keep the talk of marriage down.
Mom was silent on the subject. She’s always pretended Melanie died the minute we broke up. My mother is nothing but loyal to her children.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Greer
Andy and I have been spending almost every weekend together. I’ve been going up on Thursday nights and seeing my mother on Fridays. Right now the conversation with her doctor is that she needs to stay put for a while. Her episodes are increasing and not being well managed by medication, lasting longer and becoming more pronounced.
“Greer, I know this is difficult to understand. During one of Eve’s manic periods, she was talking so fast no one could understand her, and she became highly agitated and threatened someone.”
I knew in my heart of hearts when I saw her condo that chances are she’d be hospitalized for a while, and possibly for the rest of her life, but it still bothers me to my core. When I was growing up, some of my best memories come from my mother’s manic episodes. She was fun, and we would do things that most parents would never consider. I was studying the great sequoias in school, and she decided I needed to see them. She woke me one night, and we piled into the car and drove all night to Sequoia National Park. It was exciting spending the day exploring the forest with her. She was fun.
The doctor continues, “During a depressive episode, she threatened herself, and she threatened others with physical harm.”
My mother has been like this for as long as I can remember, so this isn’t really a shock to me.
“Greer, you’re over thirty years old. You’re at the end of your window to show signs of bipolar disorder. It may run in families, but just because your mother and her sister share this illness doesn’t mean you or your cousin will have it. Is Vanessa still not showing any signs?”
“Not that I’m aware of, and we both share the same concern, so we talk about it often.”
“I’m worried about Eve living alone right now. Her desire to not take the medication is severe, and when she hits her lows, she’s suicidal and threatens to harm others. She isn’t safe right now on her own.”
“She can stay as long as she needs.” It’s a private hospital, and they’ll keep her as long as she has money, which she has from her parents’ inheritance and my parents’ divorce, and of course I have no problem contributing should she need it. She isn’t that old, and a long-term stay would be significant, but if she runs out of money, I’ll always make sure she can stay. My mother’s comfort and health are important to me.
I decide I should share about Mark’s threats because it could create some security challenges for the hospital. “Dr. Phillips, I thought you should know my ex-fiancé is running for Congress and is in the news. He’s been texting me about my mother.”
Dr. Phillips sits up straighter and seems slightly alarmed. “How so?”
“He’s threatening to out her illness. I know it isn’t a secret, but please know if that happens, you’ll have a lot of visitors by way of the press. Please make sure no one sees her except my father. And he hasn’t made any contact with her since I graduated from college.”
“I’ll make a note of that. Don’t worry, we have you covered. Your mother's health is important to all of us.”
“I’ll be heading to Italy with a friend for two weeks. Do you think I should stay?”
“No, not at all. I think you’re a wonderful daughter and she knows that. But I also think you need a break from this. We’ll take good care of her, and I can always call you if we need to talk to you. And of course, you can call as often as you’d like.”
I make my way back to Hillsboro and the Arnaults’ for my Sunday partners meeting. When I think about everything going on, I worry that going to Italy is a mistake. Work is ready to crack open at any time, and we all know it’ll happen the minute I leave the country. That’s just Murphy’s Law.
Sitting at our meeting behind closed doors, I share with the group, “Okay, I’m leaving in the morning for Tuscany. We’ll be gone for two weeks. I’m reachable by cell phone, and I can get home in a matter of hours. Our public relations firm is on standby, since we know the shoe is going to drop with Benchmark shortly.” I look around the room, and everyone is paying close attention. “Maybe I should stay just in case something goes sideways with Benchmark?”
Mason vigorously shakes his head. “Absolutely not. Go. We can manage this.”
Dillon and Cameron both agree.
“You need a break, Greer. We’ve bounced from one crisis to another, and you’ve handled them all like a pro. Enjoy yourself,” Cameron implores.
“Just don’t come back married,” Emerson adds.
I laugh, her wisecrack making me feel better. “I don’t think that’ll be happening. I’ve already been warned that the men sit in meetings and the women cook and clean,” I share.
“That’s a good idea. Maybe when you get back, you can run a training on that here?” Dillon teases.
Emerson throws her pen at her husband. “In your dreams, buster.”
Charles, who rarely contributes to our ribbing of one another, says, “Dillon, I tried that with Margo yea
rs ago, and she went out and started a whole new company. We fell in love with these women. It’s too late to change them.”
“That’s right,” CeCe exclaims, staring down her brother.
“I don’t disagree.” Trey holds his hands up in mock surrender.
As our meeting breaks up, I walk up to Mason. “Call me if something breaks with Benchmark. The PR agency can only do so much on their own.”
He hugs me. “Go have fun with your boyfriend. Don’t worry about us. I’ve learned there’s always something.”
Charles puts his hand on Mason’s shoulder and says, “He’s right, Greer. SHN is high-profile. You’re in people’s sights, and we can only be proactive part of the time and reactive the rest. You deserve a break. Go enjoy some wine and the valleys of Tuscany.”
CeCe came out earlier this weekend to spend time with her parents related to her work at Metro Composition, and I agreed to give her a ride home. As we drive into San Francisco, we talk about my mom. The girls and my cousin Vanessa are the only ones who know all I’ve dealt with. “Would you like me to go visit Eve?” she asks.
“I think she’d like that, but I’ve warned the doctor about the press, so her visitors are limited to my dad and me.”
“If you change your mind, just let me know. I’d be happy to go, as would Hadlee.”
“Thank you. I’ll e-mail him, and if he thinks it would be a good idea, I’ll let you know. But don’t feel any pressure to go.”
“What? Go wine tasting and visit your mom? Sounds like a brilliant Saturday afternoon if you ask me.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll be here if you need anything, but I really want you to have a good time with Andy and his family. And if he has an eligible brother who needs me in some exotic location, I’m willing to travel.”
“You’re funny. Like you’d ever leave San Francisco.” CeCe snickers, and I attempt to change the subject. “How are things going with Todd? Is he still talking about moving out here?”
“He is. He’s looking at coming out in a few weeks to look for a place to live. He’s hinted at living with me, but I made him a reservation at the Fairmont, so he’s cluing in. He’s a great guy, but he’s not the one for me. I actually have my eye on him for someone else.”
“You and your brother both say all the time that ‘we all meet our soul mates at different times in our lives.’ Yours is out there.”
“I believe that, too.” We pull up outside her building and she gives me a big hug. “Have fun, and send pictures.”
“Be strong, and I promise many pictures coming your way.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Greer
We arrive in Montalcino, the actual town in Tuscany where Andy’s parents’ vineyard is located, and the pictures don’t do it any justice. The hills are a patchwork of green, made even more varied by the shadows of passing clouds. They’re every hue from new spring grass to deep forest pools, covered in rows of grape vines alternating with olive trees—rows of vegetation as far as the eye can see. Steep paths that take you to one side of a rolling hill and then down to the next valley below. Occasionally we see dwellings and compounds for the collection of various crops, the birds overhead and in the trees singing their songs. It’s so peaceful.
We flew from San Francisco with a short layover in Paris and then into Florence. Exhausted when we arrived and not able to make the two-hour drive into Montalcino, we spend the night in a beautiful hotel in Florence. Enjoying one last night alone before the chaos that fourteen children along with their spouses and children create as they descend upon Bellissima Grande. Andy warned me that we might be segregated at times, as the women will work in the kitchens, cleaning and constantly preparing for the next meal while the men deal with the business side of things. That idea seemed okay when he told me, but now that we’re here and together, and I don’t really speak any Italian, I’m a little nervous.
Stopping in town before we drive out to the vineyard, we pick up a few things his mother requested. As we wander the cobblestone streets, Andy reaches for my hand and points out places where he and his brothers would play hide-and-seek or put coins in the fountain. I’m awestruck by the town perched high atop a hill with its rustic streets and buildings, many of which were built in medieval times and still stand tall today. We walk only a few steps before people are yelling for Andreas, who’s clearly well known here. He’s always polite and introduces me, but I can’t keep up with the rapid-fire Italian that sounds to me like Bedouin leaders chanting in the desert.
Andy buys cheese from one of the storefronts his mother requested and eventually picks up a few odds and ends from a produce market. I see his energy expand and his chest puff a bit bigger. When I mention it to him, he tells me, “Nothing feels as good as being home. I love St. Helena, but Montalcino will always be my true home.”
I squeeze his hand tight, knowing I would say the same about San Francisco.
We finally get in the car for the last leg of the journey. It’s only a ten-minute drive to the family homestead, but in that time, my palms sweat and my anxiety rises greatly. Andy reaches for me as if he knows and it immediately calms me. Together, we can do this.
As we arrive, I can see why it isn’t a big deal that so many people are converging on Bellissima Grande. The home is a former medieval castle and is large by everyone’s standards. It’s been in Andy’s family since it was built, which they believe was in 500 AD.
We drive into the courtyard, and kids and dogs all come running. Many are disappointed that Genevieve isn’t with us, but I’m introduced to hordes of people, all of whom look similar to Sophia and Andy. As the introductions continue, I realize there are small towns with fewer people than the Giordano family. I’m an only child with six half-siblings, and the only time we’ll probably all be together is at my father’s funeral.
As we make our way through the crowd of people, I see who I assume are his parents standing at the door, waiting for us to come to them. Finally, after introducing me to almost all of the brothers and sisters, spouses, and kids, Andy leads me by the hand and greets both his parents. I’m able to follow some of the conversation despite the Italian before he stands aside and gestures to me. “Mama, papà, questa e la mia raggazza Greer Ford.”
I’m given a stern look and a nod. I greet them in basic Italian I learned just for this introduction. “Buon pomeriggio, signore e signora Giordano. Grazie per avermi invitato a rimanere nella vostra bellissima casa.” From my bag, I remove a beautiful small Dale Chihuly glass sculpture and curtsy.
Andy’s dad gathers me in his arms and welcomes me with kisses on each cheek. His mother nods and gestures for us to follow her into the house.
Andy whispers to me, “That was terrific. My parents love you.”
I’m still nervous and a tiny bit apprehensive as we wander the many dark halls, each looking the same. I may never find my way around here. “I don’t know about that.”
“I forgot to tell you that initial meetings with my parents don’t always go as planned. With most of the wives, they stand at the door uncomfortably for hours before my mother relents to let them in. You got in immediately. Are you kidding? My parents love you. My family will be talking about this for days.” He holds my hand and squeezes it tight. “Your Italian was perfect. Who taught you that, Sophia?”
“Actually, it was Google Translate. I do hope your family doesn’t expect me to speak Italian, because that just exhausted all my abilities.”
Andy releases a deep belly laugh. “You’ll be fine. I think my mother speaks more English than she lets on, so don’t let her play too dumb.”
Bringing us to a wing of bedrooms, his father says in broken English, “Here your bedroom.”
I place my bag in the room, and in rapid Italian, Andy and his father speak before Andy brings his things in. Looking at me, he says, “Well, looks like we are staying together. This is a first. My father says they’re using my bedroom for storage, so I’m to stay
with you. Are you comfortable with that?”
The weight of being alone immediately evaporates, and I’m thankful for the sudden change in plans. “Of course. I’m relieved, actually.”
We make our way downstairs, and the family is all sitting outside at a giant table where lunch is ready for everyone to enjoy. I’m told where to sit, Andy taking the seat on my left with one of his sisters on my right.
“Hello. I’m Maria. Sophia really likes you.”
“I really like her. I’m sorry she didn’t come.”
“She hates these gatherings. She’s probably the only one who can get away with not coming. She’s very headstrong and butts heads with my father and several of our older brothers. She knows a lot about the business, and our brothers discount her opinions despite her helping to run the second largest vineyard in the family.”
“Bellissima Valle is a success because she and Andy work so closely together.”
“Yes, that’s so true. But our brothers and father are stuck in the old world.”
“Where do you live?”
“I live in Greece. My brother Antonio is a pig, but he’s learned over the years that I know what I’m doing. Now that he has a young Greek wife and small children, I’ve been able to prove to him how valuable I am.”
The dinner conversation is in Italian. I meet several of the wives, and many of them speak English, so I don’t feel too isolated. The children run around the table, and I can see the pride in Signora Giordano as she watches the next generation of her family that’s full of many accents, yet they all get along. I realize all I’ve missed with my crazy family, and I fall in love with this chaos immediately.
When the sun sets, we remain at the table. His father and brother take up guitars, and several slow dance to the music. As we get up to join them, we’re stopped by a man who could be Andy’s twin. The two men do a bit of back-slapping, and then I’m in Andy’s arms. Unlike Mark, who kept his body a polite distance from mine as we danced, Andy takes one of my hands in his, slips the other down my back and uses it to pull my body flush with his. Damn, this feels good. We rock back and forth, moving slowly around the dance floor. The music fills the warm air, and the song is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve been this happy and content in a long time.
Temptation (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #4): A Second Chance Billionaire Romance Page 14
