While my friendship with Rod grew, I fell more and more in love with him. For a young girl, the pain of being his friend nearly brought me to my knees. I couldn’t bear seeing him tease and joke with other girls, but I kept my innermost feelings hidden, hoping one day he’d realize that his good friend, Joanie Adams might just be the girl for him.
Tony read a few more passages, skimming the words on the page quickly, absorbing each instance that Rena relayed in the story, vaguely recalling the circumstances much like Rena had written. It was clearly obvious that though Rena had changed the names, Rena had written about his relationship with her, reminding him of the love they once shared. As he read on, the smile disappeared from his face, Rena’s emotions so bold and honest on the page. He knew he’d hurt her but just how much he hadn’t known until this very moment.
In winemaking once the grapes are gently crushed from the skins, seeds and stems, allowing the juices to flow, maceration occurs. The clear juice deepens in color the longer it’s allowed to steep with its counterparts, being in direct contact with stems and seeds and skins. Time blends the wine and determines the hue and flavor, intensify ing its effect.
And that’s how I felt about Rod. The longer I was with him, the more direct contact I had with him, the more I loved him. He colored my every thought and desire. I knew I’d met the man of my dreams. We blended in every way.
Tony skimmed more pages, his stomach taut with regret and pain. He stopped when he came to a chapter titled “Corked.”
He knew what that meant. He forced himself to read on.
Wine that is “corked” has been contaminated by its cork stopper, causing a distinctly unpleasant aroma. The wine is ruined for life. It’s spoiled and will never be the same. Fortunately for wine lovers, only seven percent of all wine is considered corked or tainted. A sad fact if you’d invested time and energy with that bottle.
Wine shouldn’t let you down. And neither should someone you love.
Tony ran his hands down his face, unable to read any more. But a voice inside told him he had to know the extent of Rena’s feelings. He had to find out what happened to her after he’d left her. He continued to read, sitting stiffly in the chair, woodenly reading words that would haunt him.
“Rod called today, after his first big sale. It killed me to talk to him, I felt selfish for wishing he’d flop in his high-powered position in New York. I was dealing with my mother’s terminal cancer, needing him so badly.”
After reading Rena’s story, which ended abruptly when Rena’s mother died, Tony slumped in the seat. Drained, hollowed out by what he’d learned, he simply sat there, reliving the scenarios in his mind.
Eventually Tony logged off of his computer, leaving the disk behind, but Rena’s emotions and her silent suffering while he was winning races and pursuing his dreams would stay with him forever.
He met Joe at the office at six o’clock as planned, his disposition in the dumps. “Did you find anything unusual?” he asked his brother.
“No, not unusual. Dad did screw a lot of people over, but I’ve never seen it so clearly as now.”
Tony groaned, his mood going from gray to black in a heartbeat. “I was hoping I was wrong.”
“No, you’re not wrong. Your instincts are dead-on.” Joe shuffled papers around, comparing notes he’d written.
“Looked to me like Dad deliberately undersold cabernet and merlot to the retailers to drive Purple Fields out of business. We make five kinds of wine, but he chose the two Purple Fields are famous for to undercut them. From what I’ve found, he sold for a slight loss for at least ten years. He knew he could sustain those losses without a problem, while Purple Fields couldn’t compete.”
Tony winced, hearing the truth aloud. “I’d asked Dad to leave Purple Fields alone. To let them make a living. But I’m betting he did it to spite me.”
Joe’s brows rose. “You think he singled them out because you chose a different career?”
“He’d never approved of my choices. He didn’t want me to succeed. He wanted to dictate the course of my life, and it pissed him off that I wouldn’t listen to him. I chose racing over him.”
“Yeah, Dad was angry when you took off. He wanted to hand down his business to his firstborn son. Hell, he wasn’t too fond of me not sticking around either. I’ve got a head for business, not grape growing.”
Tony’s lips curved halfway up. “You’re a computer geek, Joe.”
“And proud of it,” Joe added, then focused his attention back on the subject at hand. “Dad was an all-around brute. I bet he used the same tactics on half a dozen other small wineries to drive them out of business.”
“Doesn’t make it right. Hell, he made millions. He didn’t need to shut down his competition.”
“Apparently, he didn’t see it that way.”
Tony let go a frustrated sigh. “At least there’s something I can do about it. I’m going to renegotiate those contracts. We’ll sell our wine at a fair price, but we won’t undercut anyone, especially Purple Fields.”
Joe nodded and leaned back in his chair. “That should make Rena happy.”
“Yeah, but it won’t make up for all the past pain this family put her through.”
“You’re not just talking about Dad now, are you?”
Tony took a steadying breath and shook his head. “No. But I plan to make it up to Rena. Whether she likes it or not.”
“Those sound like fighting words, Tone.”
Tony rose from his seat. “They are.”
“Oh, before I forget, someone called for you today.” Joe shifted through a pile of notes, coming up with one. “Something about your racing contracts. They’ve been calling the house and couldn’t reach you.”
He handed Tony the note, and when he glanced at the name, he cursed under his breath. He didn’t need this right now. “Okay,” he said, stuffing the note in his pocket. “Thanks. I’ll take care of it.”
Now he had three things to deal with, the note he tucked away being the least of his worries. At least he knew now how to save Purple Fields, but after reading Vine by Vine, Tony wasn’t sure how he could repair the damage he’d done to Rena.
The promise he made to David far from his mind, Tony wanted to save his hasty marriage for more selfish reasons. He couldn’t deny that reliving the past in these last few hours made him realize how much Rena had once meant to him.
He got in his car and drove off, speeding out of town, needing the rush of adrenaline to ward off his emotions and plaguing thoughts that he was falling in love with Rena again.
Tony entered the house, and a pleasing aroma led him straight to the kitchen. He found Rena standing at the stove top stirring the meal, her hair beautifully messy and her face pink from puffs of steam rising up. She didn’t acknowledge his presence initially until he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her against him. He kissed her throat, breathing in her citrus scent. “Looking good.”
“It’s just stew.”
“I meant you,” Tony said, stealing another quick kiss. Coming home to this domestic scene, something grabbed his insides and twisted when he saw her. “You’re beautiful behind the stove. I want to come home to you every night.”
She frowned and moved slightly away. “Don’t say those things.”
“Why?” he asked softly. “Because I’ve said them before and now you don’t believe me?”
Rena kept stirring the stew. “You’re astute.”
“And you’re being stubborn.”
She shrugged, moving away from the stove to grab two plates from the cabinet. Tony took out cutlery from a drawer and set two glasses on the table.
So now they were resorting to name-calling? This certainly wasn’t the scene Tony pictured in his mind when he first entered the house.
“Did you find out anything from Joe?” Rena asked.
“Yeah, I did. But let’s eat first.”
“Whenever someone says that to me, I know the news is not good.”
&
nbsp; “There’s bad news and there’s good news. I think we should eat first before discussing it.”
Rena brought the dishes to the stove top and filled their plates, adding two biscuits to Tony’s plate. She served him and sat down to eat. Her long hair fell forward as she nibbled on her food. She wore jeans and a soft baby-blue knit blouse that brought out the vivid color of her eyes. She hardly looked pregnant, except for a hint of added roundness to her belly.
Sweeping emotions stirred in his gut. He wanted to protect Rena. He wanted to possess her. He wanted to make love to her until all the pain and anger disappeared from her life. So much had happened to her in her short thirty-one years from losing her mother and father, to losing David, but it had all started with him. And Tony determined it would all end with him as well.
After the meal, Rena started cleaning up. Tony rose and then took her hand. “Leave this. We’ll take care of it later. We need to talk.”
She nodded and followed him into the living room. Oak beams, a stone fireplace stacked with logs and two comfortable sofas lent to the warmth of the room. Tony waited for her to sit, then took a place next to her.
They sat in silence for a minute, then Tony began. “What I have to say isn’t easy. Joe and I went through the records and have proof now of how my father manipulated sales in the region.”
“You mean, my father was right? Santo set out to destroy us?”
Tony winced and drew a breath. “I can’t sugarcoat it, Rena. My father undercut Purple Fields, even at a loss to his own company to drive you out of business. Joe’s guess is that it wasn’t personal. He’d been doing the same to other small businesses for years.”
Rena closed her eyes, absorbing the information. “My father knew. He didn’t have proof. His customers wouldn’t talk about it, except to say that they’d found better deals elsewhere. They’d praised our wine over and over but wouldn’t buy it.”
“My father probably strong-armed them into silence,” Tony said.
Rena opened her eyes and stared at him. He couldn’t tell what was going on in her head, but he suspected it wasn’t good.
She rose from her seat and paced the floor. “My mother was worried and anxious all the time. She loved Purple Fields. She and my father poured everything they had into the winery. They worked hard to make ends meet. She held most of it in, putting up a brave front, but I could tell she wasn’t the same. My father noticed it, too. He’d stare at her with concern in his eyes. And that all started around the time when we broke up and you left town.”
Tony stood to face her. He owed Rena the full truth or at least the truth as he saw it. His voice broke when he made the confession, “I think he targeted Purple Fields after I left.”
She stiffened and her mouth twisted. “My God,” she whispered, closing her eyes in agony. “Don’t you see? The stress might have triggered my mother’s illness.”
Tony approached her. “Rena, no.”
She began nodding her head. “Oh, yes. Yes. My mother was healthy. There was no history of that disease in our family. Mom was fine. Fine, until the winery started going downhill. She worried herself sick. The doctors even suggested that stress could be a factor.”
Rena’s face reddened as her pain turned to anger. She announced with a rasp in her voice, “I need some air.”
Tony watched her walk out of the house, slamming the door behind her. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration rising. “Damn it. Damn it.”
He’d never hated being a Carlino more than now. He could see it in Rena’s eyes—the blame, the hatred and the injury. When she’d looked at him that way, he understood all of her resentment. He knew she’d react to the truth with some degree of anger, but he’d never considered that she’d blame his family for her mother’s illness.
Could it be true?
Tony couldn’t change the past. All he could do now was to convince her he’d make things right. He gave her a few minutes of solitude before exiting the house. He had to find his wife and comfort her.
Even though in her eyes, he was the enemy.
Nine
Rena ran into the fields. The setting sun cast golden hues onto the vines, helping to light her way. She ran until her heart raced too fast and her breaths surged too heavy. Yet she couldn’t outrace the burning ache in her belly or the plaguing thoughts in her mind. She stopped abruptly in the middle of the cabernet vines, fully winded, unable to run another step. Putting her head in her hands, tears spilled down her cheeks. Grief struck her anew. It was as if she was losing her mother all over again. Pretty, vivacious Belinda Fairfield had died before her time. Her sweet, brave mother hadn’t deserved to suffer so. She hadn’t deserved to relinquish her life in small increments until she was too weak to get out of bed.
Rena’s sobs were absorbed in the vines, her cries swallowed up by the solitude surrounding her. Her body shook, the release of anguish exhausting her.
Two strong arms wrapped around her, supporting her sagging body. “Shh, Rena,” Tony said gently. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Let me make it right. I’ll make it all right.”
“You…can’t,” she whispered between sobs. Yet Tony’s strength gave her immeasurable comfort.
“I can. I will. We’ll do it together.”
Before Rena could formulate a response, Tony lifted her up, one arm bracing her legs and the other supporting her shoulders. “Hold on to me,” he said softly, “and try to calm down.”
Rena circled one arm around his neck and closed her eyes, stifling her sobs, every ounce of her strength spent.
Tony walked through the vineyard, holding her carefully. In the still of the night all that she heard was the occasional crunch of shriveled leaves under Tony’s feet as he moved along.
When he pushed through the door to her house, her eyes snapped open. He strode with purpose to the bedroom and lay her down with care, then came down next to her, cradling her into his arms once again. “I’m going to stay with you until you fall asleep.”
Rena stared into his eyes and whispered softly, “I hate you, Tony.”
He brushed strands of hair from her forehead with tenderness then kissed her brow. “I know.”
The sweetness of his kiss sliced through her, denting her well-honed defenses.
He took off her shoes and then his own. Next he undressed her, removing her knit top over her head and unzipping her jeans. She helped pull them off with a little tug, ready to give up her mind and body to sleep.
Tony covered them both with a quilted throw and tucked her in close. She reveled in his warmth and breathed in his musky scent despite herself. “Just for the record, sweetheart,” he began, “I’m not here just because of the promise I made to David. It goes much deeper than that. And I think you know it.”
Rena flinched inwardly, confusion marring her good judgment. She should pull away from Tony, refusing his warmth and comfort. She couldn’t deal with his pronouncement. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what he’d just implied. Yet at the same time, she needed his arms around her. She needed to be held and cradled and reassured.
Was she that weak?
Or just human?
“Good night, Rena.” Tony kissed her lips lightly, putting finality to the night. “Sleep well.”
Rena slept soundly for the better part of the night but roused at 3:00 a.m. to find Tony gone from bed. Curious, she slipped on her robe and padded down the hallway. She found him sprawled out on the living room sofa with his eyes closed. He made an enticing sight, his chest bare, his long lean, incredible body and handsome face more than any woman could ever hope to have in a mate.
Rena shivered from the coolness in the room. She grabbed an afghan from the chair and gently covered Tony, making sure not to wake him. She lingered for just one moment then turned to leave.
“Don’t go,” he whispered.
Surprised, Rena spun around to meet Tony’s penetrating gaze. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was—on and off.” Tony sat up, pla
nting his feet on the ground and leaning forward to spread his fingers through his hair.
“Sorry if I disturbed your sleep.”
Tony chuckled without humor. “You did. You do.”
Stunned by his blunt honesty, Rena blinked.
“Sleeping next to you isn’t easy, Rena.” Tony shook his head as if shaking out cobwebs. “Sorry, I wish I could be more honorable, but you’re a handful of temptation.”
Rena’s mouth formed an “oh.”
Tony stared at her. “You shouldn’t find it shocking that I want to sleep with you. You remember how we were together.”
Rena’s spine stiffened. “Maybe you should sleep in another room.”
“I have a better idea.” He took her wrist and tugged her down. She landed on his lap. Immediately, he stretched out on the sofa, taking her with him. “Maybe I should make love to my wife.”
A gasp escaped from her due to his sudden move. “Oh.”
He untied the belt on her robe, his tone dead serious. “I want you.”
His hands came up to push the robe off her shoulders, revealing the bra and panties she’d slept in. His appreciative gaze heated the blood in her veins. “You can’t blame me for that.”
“No. But for so many other things,” she said quietly.
“I get it, sweetheart. I understand.” Tony pulled the robe free, exposing her fully.
Positioned provocatively, feeling his hard length pressing against her, excitement zipped through her system. Her breathing rough, she barely managed to utter the question. “Do you?”
“Yes, I do. And I want to make it up to you. Let me do that,” Tony said, cupping his hand around her head and bringing her mouth to his. He kissed her softly. “Let me wipe away the pain.” Again his lips met hers. “Let me help you heal, sweet Rena. You’ve been through so much.”
His sincerity, his tone, the breathtaking way he looked at her softened the hardness around her heart. She wanted to heal, to release her defenses, to feel whole again.
Million-Dollar Marriage Merger Page 10
