“What?” David hung over the side of the bed.
“I don’t know.” She raised her hand, then ran her fingers through the shag throw rug David and his roommate had bought at the beginning of the school year. Something metal bounced when she hit it.
Mia picked up a small gold hoop. “It’s an earring.”
David reached for it, but she held it out of reach.
“Give it here,” he told her.
“Not until you explain it,” she teased.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Mia, get real. Brian has a new girlfriend every ten days. I have no idea which one of them dropped an earring in here.”
She tossed the piece of jewelry onto Brian’s bed. “You’d better not be messing around on me, mister. If you do, I’ll chop your legs off at the knees.”
She laughed and David grinned. Then he looked away. For a split second Mia felt something cold clutch at her midsection. Then she dismissed the feeling and joined David on his narrow mattress, where he drew her close and told her how much he loved her.
“Everything’s going to be okay with my dad,” he promised.
“I believe you,” she told him, because it was easier than speaking the truth.
“Other people have milk with their cookies,” Brenna said as she picked up another chocolate chip cookie from the plate.
Francesca waved her glass. “They’re philistines.”
Considering the amount of wine the three sisters had already consumed that evening, Francesca’s ability to pronounce a three-syllable word was impressive. Katie herself had passed coherent about thirty minutes ago and was now functioning in that pleasant state of being buzzed. The world might be spinning, but as she didn’t have to go anywhere, what did it matter?
The sisters sprawled across the two double beds in the room that Brenna and Francesca had shared while they’d both lived at the hacienda. Since moving back home after staying with Francesca, Brenna had started packing up memorabilia from high school, but had yet to tackle the excessively pink wallpaper both had loved as teenagers, along with the gaggingly sweet bedspreads, also pink, with flowers, hearts, and swirls of ribbon.
Brenna sat crossed-legged at the foot of the bed, a tray of cookies next to her. Katie sat on the same bed, with her back against the headboard, while Francesca lay in a rather undignified sprawl on the second bed, one arm hanging toward the floor, swinging her half-full wineglass.
“You always had your own room,” Brenna said, turning to glare accusingly at Katie. “I always thought that was unfair.”
Katie laughed. “It’s been nearly ten years. You need to let that go.”
“Not even on a bet.”
Francesca raised her head. Her straight, thick hair hung down, shielding most of her face. “I thought you liked that we shared a room.”
“I did. I just wanted one of my own, too.” She grinned. “Now that my lifelong dream has come true, I’ll be decorating it in red velvet and black satin.”
Katie shook her head. Had the wine affected her hearing?
Francesca looked equally confused. “Because you’re going for the sleazy look?”
“No. Because I’m the seductive one.”
“Seductive…” Katie’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t!”
Brenna laughed. “Oh, but I did and it’s so embarrassing.”
She unfolded her legs, then set down her wineglass and slid off the bed. From underneath she pulled a shallow, open box. Inside were three bottles.
Katie saw them and winced. Years ago, after a long, boring weekend spent listening to their parents and grandparents plan the detailed wording of wine bottle labels, Katie, Francesca, and Brenna had decided to create their own. They’d taken three unlabeled bottles from the storeroom and had carefully glued on pictures of themselves in full dress-up clothing. On the back they’d applied hand-lettered labels, detailing the glory that was each of them.
Katie took the first bottle Brenna held out, glanced at the picture of an eleven-year-old Francesca, and passed it across to her sister. Francesca groaned.
“The Sassy One,” she read, then gulped more wine. “Francesca Marcelli tosses her long hair in a gesture that marks her as not just the pretty one, but also the Sassy One. Bold, inventive, with just a hint of irrelevance—” She paused. “I think that’s supposed to be irreverence…. she is the essence of blossoming illocution.”
Katie laughed as she took the next bottle and recognized a photo of herself. She was dressed in yards of tulle and lace. One of the more elaborate costumes she’d made all those years ago.
“The Sparkling One,” she read. “Katie Marcelli is a carbonated combination of wit and charm. She dazzles, she sparkles, she shines. Like the champagne she embodies, she is only ever special, iridescent, and valued.” Katie glanced up. “I’m iridescent?” She looked at her arm, then held it to the light. “I must have outgrown that.”
Brenna giggled. “At least you get to be glowing colors. I’m just a slut.”
Francesca turned onto her stomach. “Read on, O Seductive One.”
Brenna sighed. “Brenna Marcelli’s sultriness proves that she is the Seductive One. Dark, sweet, and slightly mysterious, she is a gleaming testament to all young women on the verge of lush ripeness.”
Brenna glanced at her sisters. “I used to gleam.”
“You used to hate boys,” Katie reminded her. “What happened?”
“Hormones. I turned eleven and suddenly they were really interesting.” She set down her bottle. “Too bad Mia is so much younger. She was still a baby when we made these. I wonder what she would have been.”
“The Smart One,” Francesca said.
“The One Most Likely to Take Over the World,” Katie said.
Brenna smiled and climbed back on the bed. “So, Francesca, I was thinking we’d show Katie’s bottle to Zach the next time he comes over. What do you think?”
“Brilliant idea.”
Katie shook her head. “No way. I don’t need to be humiliated in front of him again. I’ve already had that pleasure, remember? The first time he came to the house.”
“But you recovered,” Francesca pointed out. “And you seem to be spending a lot of time together.”
Katie felt heat on her cheeks. She told herself it was the wine, but she knew she was lying. “I’m working with the man.”
“Uh-huh.” Brenna picked up the bottle of Cabernet and topped up her glass. “I wonder if there’s more to it than that.”
Francesca took the bottle. “Me, too. All those late-night conversations could be leading to something interesting. He’s good-looking, smart.”
“For a divorce lawyer, he has a lot of heart,” Brenna added. “He cares about his son.”
More than either of them knew, Katie thought uneasily. “We work together. That means we have to keep things professional.”
“And here I was hoping you were going to tell us you’ve already seen him naked,” Brenna said.
“In your dreams,” Francesca told her. “As if Katie would sleep with him.”
It had to be the wine, Katie thought as her mouth opened and words formed. Because she’d certainly planned to keep this particular piece of information to herself.
“Actually I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep.”
There was a moment of silence, then both her sisters started screaming and laughing. Brenna recovered first.
“No way! You did not do it with your client, our baby sister’s future father-in-law, and my divorce lawyer.”
Katie grabbed the wine and drained the last few ounces into her glass. “You make it sound like group sex.”
Francesca nearly choked. “When? Where? Start at the beginning and talk slowly.”
“I went over to his place for a tasting dinner.”
“And you were the entrée?” Brenna asked.
Francesca threw a pillow at her. “That’s disgusting.”
“You haven’t had sex in years, so your opinion doesn’t cou
nt,” Brenna told her.
“We actually had the tasting dinner,” Katie said, ignoring them both. “We were talking, and then we were kissing, and then we were upstairs.”
“And?” Brenna prompted.
“It was very nice.”
“It should have been a whole lot better than nice,” Francesca grumbled. “You slept with David’s father.”
“Don’t make him sound old. He’s all of thirty-five,” Brenna said. “I’m guessing all the important bits are still functioning just fine.”
“They are,” Katie said primly.
Brenna collapsed on the bed and rested her feet on Katie’s lap. “I’m going to miss sex. Not that I was having it all that much with my soon-to-be ex.”
“Why not?” Francesca asked.
Brenna shrugged. “He was busy, or gone. Or screwing the bimbo. I don’t know. In the past few months we just never did it. I guess the flame had been dying out for a while, but I was too busy working all the time to notice.”
“Don’t think about him,” Katie urged. “You’ll only upset yourself.”
“You’re right. I’ll think about sex instead. Having it, or not having it. I suppose the good news is that giving up sex with Jeff won’t be a huge hardship.”
Katie nearly dropped her glass. “Excuse me?”
Brenna sat up enough to take a sip of her wine. “Dr. Jeff might be an up-and-coming cardiologist, but he doesn’t know dick about a woman’s sexual wants and desires.”
Francesca struggled into a sitting position. She shifted so that her legs hung over the bed and stared at her sister. “Brenna? What are you saying? How exactly would you know he wasn’t good in bed?”
Katie was also playing mental catch-up. She got there before her sister. “You had sex with someone other than Jeff?”
Brenna blinked several times. “Uh-huh.”
Katie couldn’t believe it. She thought she knew everything about her sisters’ lives. Apparently she was wrong. “Did you have an affair?”
Brenna dropped her head back onto the bed. “Of course not. I wouldn’t cheat on Jeff. Only he did that. This was before.”
Francesca nearly fell off the bed. “You weren’t a virgin when you got married?”
Brenna stared at her sister. “What century are you in? You were the only bridal virgin I knew.”
Francesca reached for her wine and took a gulp, then turned her attention to Katie. “Did you and Greg, well, you know?”
Katie laughed. “Yes, we had sex, and I regret every drop of bodily fluid exchanged.”
“I can’t blame you,” Brenna said. “Who wants to be with a man who prefers death to marriage?”
“That’s not why he went into the army,” Francesca protested.
“Then why?” Brenna asked.
Francesca shrugged.
Katie tried to laugh, but she couldn’t. After all this time her lie should feel like the truth, but it didn’t. Maybe it never would. That was the thing about lies—they tended to live on forever.
“Okay,” Brenna said, reaching for another bottle and the corkscrew. “Your turn, Francesca. ’Fess up. Did you have any secret lovers?”
“Of course not,” she said primly. “I was a virgin when I married Todd.”
Brenna hooted. “Figures. The family beauty is the only one who waited to get laid.”
“I wanted my first time to be with my husband.”
“Talk about pressure,” Brenna muttered.
“I wanted the memory,” Francesca said.
“Fair enough,” Brenna said.
“But I regretted it,” Francesca announced.
Katie felt her mouth drop open. Brenna pulled the cork out of the bottle and nearly dumped the contents onto the bed.
“Being a virgin on your wedding night?” Brenna asked.
“Well, not exactly regretted it, but I do wish I’d slept with Nic Giovanni.”
Katie burst out laughing. “Nic? Our neighbor? Heir to the hated Wild Sea Vineyard? Francesca, I’m shocked.”
Francesca rolled her eyes. “Come on, Katie. Nic was incredibly hot. That tall, dark, brooding thing he had going on was irresistible. Plus he rode a motorcycle and dated lots of girls who put out. I always knew he would be the perfect guy to lose my virginity to. He would make a girl’s first time perfect.”
Katie held out her glass to Brenna, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll confess to Nic Giovanni fantasies, too. I ran into him once when he was home from college one summer. We were in town and he stopped to talk to me. I thought maybe he’d ask me out, but he didn’t.” She sighed at the memory. “I probably would have been willing to give it up for him.”
“My sisters are sluts,” Brenna announced.
Francesca grabbed the wine bottle. “I refuse to believe you didn’t have Nic fantasies, too.”
“I had several,” Brenna said. “But, as you said, we all fantasized about him. Who else do you wish you’d slept with.”
Francesca named a couple of guys Katie remembered from high school. Back then she’d been more into romance than sex, so while she could list a bunch of guys she would have liked to have dated, she wasn’t sure she could claim a willingness to have sex with them.
“You need to just go out there and do it,” Brenna told Francesca. “It’s been too long. Important parts of your body are atrophying.”
Francesca rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re living like a nun.”
Katie had to agree. “Francesca, you’ve taken the whole ‘be independent’ thing way too far. Refusing to marry again is fine, but giving up on doing the wild thing is just plain stupid.”
Francesca raised her eyebrows. “I can’t believe you of all people would say that to me. What happened to waiting for your handsome prince.”
Brenna grinned. “She’s still waiting, but in the meantime she’s not adverse to a little hide the salami.”
Katie laughed. “Hide the salami? That’s disgusting.”
“Easy for you to be all superior and picky,” Brenna grumbled. “You just got laid.”
“Good point.” Katie sipped her wine. “I remembered what I’d been missing.” She turned her attention back to Francesca. “Which is my point. I’m not suggesting you fall in love or anything, but give some guy a chance.”
Francesca didn’t look convinced. “Just some guy? Should I randomly pick one off the street?”
“Absolutely!” Brenna leaned toward her. “I want you to have sex with the next single, reasonably good-looking guy you run across, and I’m not pouring you any more wine until you agree.”
“You’re kidding.”
Brenna looked at Katie. “Are you with me on this?”
“A hundred percent. Francesca needs a man.”
Francesca groaned. “Fine. I’ve probably been out of the game for too long. I’ll look around and—”
Brenna cut her off with a shake of her head. “The next single guy. That’s the rule. Or no more Marcelli reserve in your glass.”
Francesca sighed. “All right. I’ll do it. But the consequences are your responsibility.”
The three sisters leaned forward and clinked glasses.
When Katie straightened, she rested against the foot-board. All this talk of young love and lust made her think of Mia and David, and what Zach had told her. The more she considered what he’d said, the more she came to believe him. But should she tell her sisters what Zach saw between David and that other girl? If she did, they would want to tell Mia, and did she want that?
She didn’t have an answer, and until she did, she decided she would keep quiet.
“All those lost opportunities,” Brenna said mournfully. “Our secret lives.”
“Mom and Dad have secrets.”
Francesca’s unexpected comment silenced Brenna. She and Katie looked at each other, then at their sister.
Francesca swallowed uncomfortably. “I didn’t know if I should say anything. I tried to forget what I overheard, but it’s been both
ering me.”
“What?” Brenna asked. “Is it the winery? Is there something wrong with the vineyards?”
Francesca shook her hair off her shoulders. “There’s more to life than grapes, Brenna. No, it was something else.” She explained how she had come home unexpectedly and overheard their parents and grandparents talking in the library.
“Grammy M said the family is being punished by God,” she finished. “Dad said not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about him.”
“What him?” Katie asked. “What on earth are they talking about?”
“I don’t know.”
“It could be the feud,” Brenna said. “Maybe thirty years ago something bad happened with Wild Sea Vineyard and the Giovanni family.”
Katie thought about the family history. “How is that possible? The feud started in the late forties, right after the Second World War. Dad wasn’t even born then.”
“That’s right,” Francesca said. “Plus Grammy M was the one saying we were being punished, and she didn’t become a part of the family until Mom and Dad got married—which was what? Twenty-nine years ago?”
“But you said they said thirty years ago,” Brenna reminded Francesca. “Whatever it was happened thirty years ago.”
“What is it?” Katie asked. “What could anyone have done? There hasn’t even been the hint of a scandal. No whispers or rumors. I always thought we were boringly normal.” She turned to Francesca. “Could you have misunderstood?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Katie looked at Brenna, who shrugged. They both seemed to be waiting for her to make a decision. She thought about the fund-raiser and the upcoming wedding. Not to mention the thousands of beads yet to be attached on Mia’s gown, and the mysterious redhead, and Katie’s confusing relationship with Zach.
“Let’s give it a few weeks and see if anything happens,” she said. “If not, we’ll bring it up at a family dinner.”
“Works for me,” Francesca said.
“Maybe the one celebrating my divorce from Jeff,” Brenna said. “Or the one where we tell the family how we convinced him to back off on the winery.”
Katie was surprised. “You’ve heard from him about that? The last I knew was that he was determined to pursue the inheritance angle, despite there not being one.”
The Sparkling One Page 18
