As the night wears on, I talk to several of the wives and sisters. It’s a beautiful night, and I’m struggling to remain upright. We’ve been going for almost thirty-six hours without a good rest. Andy leans over and asks, “This party will go on for hours. You look exhausted. Would you like to go to bed?”
“I’m good if you are.”
He smirks. “I was hoping you’d say you wanted to go to bed so I could go with you.”
“Then let’s tell them we’re jet-lagged and ready for bed.”
Andy holds my hand as he stands and announces we’ve been awake for hours and need to rest. He confirms the time of the meeting in the morning, and we say our good nights to everyone. Andy’s mother rises and kisses me on both cheeks, saying something to me in Italian. I smile and nod, and the people who heard what she said all laugh and cheer.
I turn to Andy with a questioning look. He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.”
Honestly, I’m too tired to care. Andy leads me to our room, and I’m so turned around that I’m glad he’s coming with me. My exhaustion is overwhelming, and I can hardly think straight. I’d be completely lost without him.
We’re barely able to get undressed before we collapse into bed. Our heads don’t seem to have hit the pillows before we’re out.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Andy
“What do you mean, you lost fifty barrels of wine?” my oldest brother berates me in Italian.
“I live on-site. I would’ve noticed if some truck pulled up and took off with fifty barrels.” I pass out the inventory sheets to everyone. “As you can see, we’ve taken a careful inventory. I even had another set of eyes take a look besides Sophia and me to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. We’ve had good years, and the grapes have been plentiful, so we ran out of space to store them. I need to invest in a storage system. Plus, it’ll make any theft more obvious.”
“I can’t believe you lost fifty barrels. What’s that going to do to our profits?”
“Look, they don’t come from one year or one grape. Overall, it’ll be a small bump, but it shouldn’t affect one year any more than others.”
My father has been sitting and watching my brothers cross-examine me. Finally, he puts his hand up to stop the assault. “We had this happen to us here when I was a child. People can be thieves. I want you to order the Australian storage system. It’ll cut into all of our profits, but you have the largest vineyard outside of Bellissima Grande. I understand there’s a French tracking system we can install that’s unidentifiable to the naked eye, and we can catch the person stealing from us.”
My brother who runs a small vineyard in Hungary is quick to add, “I think it may be too much for Andreas to manage. Maybe Napa needs to be moved to someone with more experience and knowledge.”
I bang my hand on the table, and the squabbling stops. “No one knows the American market better than I do. Plus, I’m the only one who’s legal to live there, so there’s no option beyond Sophia and me to do this.”
“Sophia is to blame for this,” my brother Marco insists in rapid-fire Italian. “She should be sleeping on a cot in the warehouse.”
“She’s not to blame. Neither of us would allow her to sleep in the warehouse.” Looking around the table, I can see the differences between my oldest siblings and my younger ones. The oldest group is more like my father, the younger is the most liberal, and the middle group is a combination of both.
My youngest brother has been watching the exchanges. He mutters something, and my father asks him to repeat what he’s said. “Andy knows Sophia deserves half of Bellissima Valle. If you don’t make that clear, she’ll leave Andy.”
My shoulders sag. I know what he says is true, but this isn’t the time for an equality fight.
The table erupts in yelling and fighting, and I turn to my father, “May I go into the office and order the shelves, forklift, and the trackers so they arrive before I return?”
He nods and I walk away, completely understanding why Sophia hates these meetings. Many of my brothers are pure Neanderthals, and they don’t understand why the wine business in America is so different than on other continents.
I head into the office and find Greer studying her computer. “What are you doing?”
“I’m using the Wi-Fi to check my e-mail. What about you?”
“Escaping World War III in our meeting. One of my older brothers wants to take control of my vineyard because he’s sure the missing barrels are my fault, while another think it falls on Sophia.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not very good with family politics.”
“You’re doing wonderfully. What have you been up to this morning?”
“Besides fending off five different breakfasts? Your mother has indicated I’m too thin, and she wants to fatten me up.”
I pull her flush to me so she can feel my partially hard cock against her belly. “I’ll love you no matter what size you are.” Her eyes widen, and I realize what I just said. Crap. I’ve known for some time that I love her, but I didn’t want to tell her like this. “I should’ve chosen a better place to tell you the first time, but I do love you. Every tiny thing I get to know of you makes me love you more.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers.
There’s yelling down the hallway as my brothers approach. They enter my father's office, obviously ready to continue their assault, until they see Greer. Thankfully they won’t emasculate me in front of my girlfriend.
I sit at my father's computer and order the trackers and storage units. The trackers are just a small GPS dot that’s placed beneath the metal ring, so if the barrels disappear, we can locate them with a few simple clicks on a computer.
I call the manufacturer’s rep, in the California central valley and tell me they can drop the trackers off that afternoon. “Ask for Michael when you deliver them. He’ll be expecting them, but please make them nondescript.” I feel I can trust Michael, and I want only him and Sophia to know what I’m doing.
I put in a call to the distributor of the barrel stacking system and leave him a message that I’m in Italy but to call me on my cell phone when he can get to me. This system will more than double our space, and because of how they’re stacked, it’ll be difficult for someone to remove a barrel without anyone noticing.
I dial Michael, who answers after a couple rings. “Andreas?”
“Hi, Michael. There will be some trackers for the wine barrels delivered this afternoon. Would you be able to attach them to each barrel for me this week?”
“Of course. I mentioned to my father about it. I’m sorry if that was out of turn, but I wanted his perspective and thoughts on how they may be disappearing. He suggested the trackers.”
“I’m glad he’s on the same page, but Michael, let’s be careful what we share with our competitors.”
“I understand. It’ll never happen again. He did say it’s a problem across the valley right now, but no one wants to admit they’ve been hit.”
“No surprise that they don’t talk about it, but it’s good to know it isn’t just us. Ultimately the various vintners are still a community that competes with one another. Call me if you have any problems. You can have Jose help you, but tell no one else what you’re doing.”
“Yes, sir.”
I end the call and lean back in my father’s desk chair, staring at the ceiling. I can’t imagine not living in Northern California. I spent my life learning the rules around the environment, the process requirements, and of course, how to market to Americans.
My youngest brother will be going to Davis in the fall, and he’s destined to open a winery for pinot noir grapes down in Southern California. Sophia has been watching the land prices, and we know we need to start buying.
So many things to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Greer
Saying our goodbyes to the family is very bittersweet. I really had a nice time. I spent a lot of time with Chiara, Andy’s oldest sister and the o
ne their parents turn to for direction. She’s married to a lawyer in town, and her children are grown and working for the vineyard, with the exception of her one son who’s a priest. She’s a lot like Sophia, very direct and down to earth, but regularly decked out in top-of-the-line, high-end Italian designers.
Chiara is at the end of the line as we’re heading out. “Remember what I told you. If Andreas gets out of line, you must put him right back. Don’t let him walk all over you. He’s a Giordano and is a bit headstrong, but don’t let that fool you. When it comes down to it, he’s a pussycat.”
“I promise I’ll put him in his place if I need to.”
“Good girl. And please tell my sister that these meetings aren’t near enough fun when she’s not here. In three months I expect to see her.”
Andy steps in. “Chiara, we love you and we’ll miss you, but if we don’t leave now, we’ll miss our plane out of Florence.”
Water wells at the corner of her eyes and she says something to Andy in Italian that I can’t understand. He nods and promises in English, “I’ll take good care of her.”
As we navigate the long and winding roads out of the Tuscan valley, I’m sad to be leaving, but I also know I’ll be back. We really had fun the past two weeks. I loved all the kids, and every member of the family was loving and supportive of Andy. They may fight and argue, but it’s a shared passion for wine and the artistry of winemaking that pushes them. It really is inspirational. They think we’re a little more serious as a couple than we might be, but that’s okay. I can live with that. I wouldn’t mind being more serious anyway.
I’ll admit that I’m looking forward to being alone for a bit. Or at least alone with just Andy for a while. “When we get back to San Francisco, I want to hide for a whole weekend, just the two of us in my apartment. No people.”
“You’ve been great these past two weeks. I know my family can be overwhelming at times.”
I giggle. “At times? I think when you aren’t used to having so many people around you who hug and kiss you hello and goodbye, it can be a little overwhelming. But please don’t get me wrong, I loved every minute of being here with you.”
“My mother tells me you came to her in a dream. That’s why she put so much pressure on me to include you.”
“I did? When did she tell you that?”
“The first night we were there. She feels we’re good for each other.”
“I like your mom.”
“My whole family likes you. Are you ready for the trip home?”
“Yes. I can tell things are going to be crazy for a few weeks when I get there, so I’m glad I got the rest these past two weeks.”
We’re not in the door even two minutes when my phone rings with a call from CeCe.
“Hello, my long-lost friend,” I answer
“Welcome home! You were very quiet during your trip. I hardly heard from you. Did you have fun? Please tell me you and Andy didn’t get married. I’d be crushed if I wasn’t there. When can we get together?”
“Come over any time.”
She hangs up, and in less than twenty minutes she’s at my door. It’s so nice to see her. “Did you lose weight while I was gone?”
“From your lips to my hips, I wish!”
We hug and she again asks me a slew of questions that I can’t even follow. When she finally takes a breath, I’m able to talk. “It was a wonderfully quiet two weeks. We didn’t do many touristy things. We’d get up in the morning and take walks around the villa. There were close to fifty people there, all related to Andy. It’s so different than how we grew up. They’re close, much like your family but on steroids. Kids everywhere running around and laughing. It was a controlled chaos.”
“Did you spend all your time with Andy, or were you on your own?”
“Andy would join mostly his brothers—a few of his sisters would be there including his oldest sister, Chiara. Who I absolutely loved and so would you. Always decked out in high-end Italian designers and looking incredibly chic.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I told her all about you, and she hopes to meet you soon, too.”
“What did you do to keep busy?”
“While Andy had meetings, I would offer to help clean or prepare the lunch, but I think Andy told them I wasn’t much of a cook, so they pretty much just shooed me out of the kitchen while they worked.”
“You’re a good cook. Why would he tell them that?”
“Because I can’t boil water. I’m good at ordering food, not making it.”
“I’ve had food I watched you make. I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“Stir-fry of precut vegetables and adding a precooked chicken isn’t cooking CeCe. Anyway, I used the time he was in his meetings to check my e-mails, and one of the sisters-in-law is a yogi, so she’d lead a yoga class for all the girls. Even Andy’s mom joined us one day. I was impressed.”
“That is impressive.”
“They’d serve a late lunch that was as big as our dinners each day. It was always three-plus courses—pasta or risotto, then a beautifully cooked fish or meat with a lot of vegetables followed by a salad made from vegetables in their garden. I don’t think I’ve eaten so well in years. I swear I gained at least ten pounds.”
“Somehow I doubt that, but it sounds amazing. I think I’d be comatose all afternoon if that was me. Did you find any neat trinkets?”
“Of course, and I may have brought one or two for my friends.” I smile and pull a beautiful hand-carved box with a stained-glass top from my bag.
She accepts it gracefully and gives me a warm embrace. “Thank you. It certainly wasn’t necessary.”
“I saw it and thought of you. And I brought something back for my admin and the receptionist. It isn’t much, but I thought of you often.”
We sit in my living room, and she kicks her shoes off and tucks her feet under her on the couch. “Tell me more about his family.”
I describe the various family members and how much they reminded me of Sophia and Andy. I learned stories of Andy’s childhood and how he and his siblings terrorized the nuns at the local schools. It was a really nice and much-needed vacation.
“It sounds like you really had a good time. Do you still like Andy?”
“We said the L-word.”
Her eyes light up, and she smiles broadly. “Oh, Greer! I’m so happy for you.”
“You’re a good matchmaker, CeCe. I just wish I could find a good guy for you. I met all of Andy’s brothers, but they live too far away. I couldn’t have my best friend live so far away.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m not giving up yet.”
We make plans to meet later in the week, and I head out to the bedroom and find Andy sleeping as a soccer game plays on the TV. He’ll drive home tomorrow, and our lives will go back to the way they were before. I’ll miss seeing him every day, and I’ve never slept as well as I do when I’m curled up with him. He hasn’t even left yet and already my heart aches that he’s gone.
Laying down on the bed, I cuddle in close. His arm wraps around me and he kisses my head as he mutters, “Ti amo.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Andy
At eleven years old, Genevieve is young enough that she still has the exuberance of youth, but by all standards of beauty, she’s stunning. I know every father thinks that of their daughters, but she has that movie star look, not overly tall but still willowy. She walks with the confidence of someone a decade older and radiates an intelligent beauty.
We sit together watching the soccer match on the television. I know Genevieve would rather watch some silly teen angst show, but instead she’s here at my side and doing what I enjoy. “Papa?”
“Yes, baby.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders, wishing I could freeze her at this age right now. I know she’s hard sometimes, but she still hangs on my every word, she hugs me, and she tells me things about her life and her friends. “I’ve missed you so much.”
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“I’ve missed you, too.” She stares at the game, absently asking, “How was the trip home?”
“It went well. You were missed by many of your cousins.”
“Mom needed me.”
“Are you sure about that?” I know that isn’t the case, but she’s doing the only thing she knows, and that’s to be around her mother and mark her territory like a cat.
“Yes. She’s been seeing a dillweed named Tomas. He’s trying to get serious, and she isn’t seeing him for what he is.”
This should be interesting. An assessment of an adult by a preteen. “What is he?”
“Well, he’s a dillweed to start with, and he isn’t right for her.” She says it so matter-of-factly, like she believes that alone should be reason enough that her mother should move away from Tomas.
I know from conversations that Tomas and Melanie are very serious, but I can’t help but wonder if she doesn’t hope her mother and I will rekindle our relationship. “Baby, you know your mom and I won’t be getting back together, right?”
“Yes. You weren’t meant to be together. Mom says that all the time. But he isn’t right either.”
“I think you should give Tomas some time. Speaking of which, I’ve met someone. I took her to Montalcino with me.”
She sits up and screams, “You did what?”
“Genevieve, I think you’ll like Greer. She works for a company in San Francisco, and she’s smart and beautiful, just like you.”
“No.” She shakes her head vehemently.
It was probably a mistake to mention Greer, but I want the two of them to meet. I know Greer has agreed with Melanie’s approach to waiting an appropriate amount of time to make sure we’ll be together before I introduce them, but I want them to become friends. “Well, let’s not worry about that today. I’d like you to meet her eventually.”
Temptation (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #4): A Second Chance Billionaire Romance Page 15
