It was a picture of her mother wearing a white sundress. With her long blond hair falling straight down her back, she looked more beautiful than Liz remembered. The shot had been taken at a party of some sort. There were tiki torches and huge bouquets in the background.
The dress was gorgeous, with a handkerchief hem and a glittering belt around the waist. Her mother looked ethereal.
I wonder...
Liz rushed to her mother’s closet. They had never cleaned out any of Matt’s or Kim’s clothes. Everything remained just as it had been twenty years before.
Liz shoved the T-shirts and work jeans aside, going farther down the steel rod to the Sunday dresses, velvet pants and jeweled sweaters her mother once wore.
Finally she saw a clear plastic garment bag that held the pretty summer dress from the photograph. Even in the dim closet light, the rhinestones around the square neckline, up the thin spaghetti straps and along the fanciful hem danced and sparkled. Slowly, Liz pulled the dress out of the closet. Her breath caught between her ribs. Chills ran from the roots of her hair onto her shoulder blades. “It’s really here.”
She whisked the dress off the hanger and held it up to her body. She and her mother were the same height. Same size. It was almost as if she could touch her. “Mom, thank you,” Liz cried.
Liz believed her parents were guiding her by helping her find this lovely dress. She could be charming if she wanted. She’d learned that much about herself in France. Once she freed her mind from business and worries about her vines, she relaxed. And when Liz relaxed, she smiled more. She paid more attention to other people.
At that moment, she realized there was a significant difference between her and Gabe. When she was charming, it was because she was naturally curious about others. She empathized with them, making an effort to feel their joy and their pain.
Gabe’s charm was fueled by aggression. He wanted something.
Liz needed a plan of action to deal with the Barzonni family. Not just Gabe, though he seemed like the place to start. He was a thief and a charmer. That much she knew. She would uncover his motivations soon enough. Liz walked over to a full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Holding the dress up and fanning out the skirt, she gazed at her reflection. Maddie’s engagement party was not just any event. It would be an espionage mission. She needed to pull out every weapon in her arsenal to protect her family’s land and her livelihood.
The Crenshaw baton had been passed to her. Her grandfather and their employees were counting on her. Finding this dress had been her confirmation she would triumph.
When Liz was a little girl, her mother had always told her she had a special guardian angel looking out for her. As Liz held the dress in her hands, she realized that angel was her mother.
Stinging with the pain of loss, Liz buried her face in the dress and let her tears flow.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE BARZONNI VILLA sprawled across a low-lying hill south of Indian Lake. It was surrounded by over a thousand acres of farmland that produced exemplary tomatoes, corn, green beans, soybeans and a laundry list of other vegetables.
A brick drive, supposedly hand-laid by Angelo himself before the villa was even built, meandered up to the three-story Italian stucco house. Liz had heard it was an exact replica of a Sicilian manor Angelo had admired back in Italy. Though the sun had not yet set, the interior of the house was ablaze with lights. A stream of cars crept up the drive. Liz recognized several teenagers from Indian Lake who’d been hired for the evening as valets.
The front gardens were filled with an ocean of colorful impatiens, geraniums, black-eyed Susans and daylilies. Thousands of white crystal lights were strung through the limbs of the river birch and maple trees.
Liz was in awe. If this was a summer party, what did they do for Christmas?
She pulled her truck up to the front of the house and a dark-haired young man jogged up to her and opened the door. “Welcome to Villa Barzonni,” he said.
“Thanks,” she replied and slid out of the truck. She grabbed her pink sequin-and-satin clutch and smiled. “It sticks a bit moving into first gear. Just give it more clutch.”
“Clutch?” He looked at her, terrified.
“Do you want me to park it?” she asked quietly so that no one else would hear.
“No.” He swallowed hard. “It’s been a while.”
“Don’t worry. You can’t strip her. She’s had rougher drivers than you.”
“Okay,” he said and hopped in.
Liz shook her head, chuckled to herself and gazed up at the house. It was imposing, and she felt intimidated. Lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders, she walked toward the front door.
“Liz? Is that you?” she heard behind her.
Liz exhaled and spun around. “Sarah! And Luke! How great to see you.”
Luke leaned over and kissed Liz on the cheek. “Wow, Liz. You look spectacular. I mean, I thought you were lovely as a bridesmaid, but this...”
Liz blushed six shades of crimson. Luke had seen her dozens of times during all of his and Sarah’s wedding parties and dinners, so if she could knock his socks off, Gabe was going to be toast.
“Luke’s right. You’re absolutely stunning,” Sarah chimed in.
“This dress was my mother’s. I just found it.”
Sarah nodded appreciatively. “Listen, girl. Don’t lose that dress again. In fact, I’d have four more made in different colors. Can you wear that in the tasting room?”
“Yeah, I bet you’d increase sales a thousandfold,” Luke agreed.
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
Luke offered his left arm to Liz and his right arm to Sarah. “Ladies, shall we?”
Liz grinned happily and slipped her arm into Luke’s. “Let’s do it.”
They stepped inside and followed a Persian rug−covered hallway that led straight through the house to a set of French doors, which opened onto the back veranda.
Liz dropped her jaw. “Oh my...”
“You said it,” Sarah gushed.
The Tom and Jason Big Band, dressed in tuxedos, accompanied Dorothy Miles as she crooned the lyrics to a love song from the sixties.
A blue light illuminated the pool. A yellow-and-white-striped tent that matched the fabric on the wide lounge chairs had been erected at the south end of the terrace. Its interior was strung with another thousand Italian crystal lights in a mock ceiling drape that looked like a galaxy of stars. At the center of each large round table was a vase filled with pink and yellow roses, white orchids and trailing ivy.
Servers carried trays with glasses of wine and champagne among the throng of guests.
“Who are all these people?” Liz asked. There had to be at least two hundred in the crowd.
“I barely know any of them, except Nate and your girlfriends,” Luke said, glancing around.
Liz lifted her arm and waved. “Oh, I see Mrs. Beabots with Maddie.”
As they started to head toward their friends, Liz heard her name.
“Liz?” Gabe’s voice rolled down her back like soft velvet. It was soothing, and that made it most unnerving.
Gathering wits at a time like this took staggering effort, Liz realized, as she tried to turn to face him. For some reason, her white linen espadrilles were caught between two veranda bricks. She wondered if Angelo had hand-laid them as well, so as to trip up his enemies when he needed them on their knees.
Gabe approached her.
His blue eyes were filled with appreciation as he looked at her, and the sides of his mouth crooked up into a pleased smile. He remained silent for a long moment, then blinked slowly as if trying to get his bearings. He swallowed hard. “You...you’re...”
Mission accomplished, Liz thought. Take that, Gabriel Barzonni.
“You�
��re dazzling,” he finally said.
He was dressed in black tuxedo pants and a white linen dinner jacket, his tuxedo shirt open at the throat. His black hair glistened in the pink-and-lavender sunset, and she noticed his deep tan. His blue eyes bored into her with a killer gaze that turned her bones to gelatin.
Who’s toast now?
Liz’s quick mind filled with smart quips that would definitely have put her enemy in his place, but she chose the high road and decided to stick to her plan.
“So are you,” she volleyed back.
This time his smile almost seemed genuine. This wasn’t fair. She’d just arrived and already she was having difficulty keeping her focus.
“Everyone is talking about the wine,” he said, holding up a glass of red. “Maddie did a great job in choosing them. I bet you helped.”
“I did.”
He lowered his head and moved closer in order to whisper. “I never thought she’d pull it off. Mom had staunchly insisted on her favorite Italian wines—and some of my favorites, too, I might add. She and I think along the same lines on a lot of things. I just didn’t believe Maddie would get her way with Mom so soon.”
“Really?” Liz asked. “Maddie told me they haven’t disagreed on a thing so far.”
Surprise filled Gabe’s face. “No kidding? Maybe Maddie has the magic touch. Good for her.”
A waiter came by with grilled shrimp on top of tiny squares of puff pastry. Gabe reached over and took one of the hors d’oeuvres. “You have to try this,” he said, holding it out to her. “They’re my favorite.”
Liz didn’t move. He thrust it toward her, his arm outstretched.
If this was a test of wills, he was not about to back down. Liz knew it would be easier to give in to the small gestures he apparently demanded. She’d lie in wait for later.
When she finally took the proffered shrimp, his fingers grazed hers and sent a zing through her entire body. Liz didn’t know why she was reacting to him so strongly. It made no sense. She was here to take him down.
She chewed the shrimp, and then tried her very own chardonnay, which was chilled to perfection. “It’s good,” she said. “Very good.”
“My mom makes the best food.” He grinned and took another sip of wine, never pulling his eyes off her.
“Your mother made these?”
“She made all the hors d’oeuvres.”
“For all these people?” Liz asked incredulously.
“Yes. Oh, she’s got a couple young girls she’s teaching to be sous chefs, but pretty much, Gina did it all. She made all the food for the dinner, as well. All Nate’s favorites, by the way. She hired a company to put up the lights in the trees, but she planted the gardens and urns. She arranged all the flowers for the tables, too.”
“She did not.”
He nodded. “I know. Intimidating, isn’t it? She does just about everything. It’s the Italian way, she says.”
Liz was taken aback. She would have guessed Gina lived like a queen, doling out projects and commands. Gabe was telling her that Gina worked just as hard as everyone else on their farm. Or harder. Clearly, she had a talent for event planning. No wonder she and Maddie had bonded so quickly.
Liz’s picture of the Barzonni family had begun to morph.
A brunette woman in a plunging, shockingly pink dress and excruciatingly high-heeled shoes brushed by them. She slowed long enough to trail her fingertips across Gabe’s wide shoulders. “Hi, Gabe,” she purred. “Nice party.”
“Syd. Great to see you,” he said, before turning back to Liz.
Syd appeared put off by Gabe’s lack of attention. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said and teetered away.
Gabe inclined his head in Syd’s direction. “She’s one of the managers at the canning company my dad contracts.”
“I wasn’t aware Maddie knew those people.”
“She doesn’t.” Gabe chuckled. “I doubt Nate does, either. My father believes the first wedding in the family is a PR event for his business, not a celebration of love. So to avoid having all these people at the wedding, my mother suggested they invite them to the engagement party instead.”
“Ah, that’s where all these people came from,” Liz said.
“Yeah. Appeasement.”
“I’m liking your mother more all the time.”
Gabe sipped his wine and peered at Liz over the rim. His eyes didn’t waver.
“What?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.
“I have to admit I didn’t think anything could be more arresting than you in those cutoffs holding a gun to my face, but this...” He waved his hand to indicate her dress.
“It was my mother’s,” Liz blurted, wondering why she’d revealed something so intimate.
“You look sad. Do you miss her?”
“You know about my mother?” Liz’s eyebrow crooked in surprise.
“Yes. And your father. Mom told us about it when they died. Car crash, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she breathed, surprised that Gina would tell her sons such a sorrowful story. None of the Barzonni brothers would have been that much older than she was at the time, and to a kid, her tragedy would have been frightening. Perhaps the boys had heard about it on the news or read it in the newspaper first. Liz herself had heard the radio reports as she and her grandfather had driven home from the funeral. Maybe the boys learned about it at school and asked their mom for more details. Few children lost both parents at once. Whatever had happened, apparently her story had impacted Gabe.
“We knew you were raised by your grandfather,” he continued. “How old were you?”
“Six. Nearly seven.” She looked down at her glass. “Sometimes it seems like it happened just a few weeks ago. Other times, I can hardly remember their faces.”
“Was your mother as beautiful as you are?” he asked in that same velvet tone.
“More. She was more beautiful.”
“I find that very hard to believe,” he said. Liz didn’t meet his eyes. He took the glass from her hand and placed it next to a nearby Roman urn. “I’ve made you sad, and this is supposed to be fun. Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her along.
“Where are we going?”
“To dance. Unless you’d rather go down to the stable and look at the horses.”
Liz nodded. “That’s right. I’ve heard stories about your father’s Thoroughbreds. He still races them, right?”
“Actually, Rafe races them all now. My dad is slowing down. Usually when we have a party like this, the guests wind up with my dad down at the stable. He and Rafe love to show off their new prizewinners.”
“Boy, Louisa would love that.”
“Who is Louisa?”
“My chef de cave. She wants a horse so I’ll quit riding my ATV between the vines. She says it disturbs them. At least that’s what I think she says. Most of what she says is in French.”
“You have a chef de cave?”
“I do. She was in the tasting room the day you came to the vineyard...”
When you stole from me, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. This was a night for discretion and fact-gathering. Not for finger-pointing, which would only put her opponent on the defensive.
Gabe smiled his most charming smile, the one Liz already knew not to trust. She felt a warning bristle creep up her back.
“Liz, you are a woman of a hundred surprises.”
“Okay, so here’s another surprise for you, Gabe,” she said. “I don’t dance very well.”
“Ah, nothing to it. Just hold on to me. I’ll be your guide. I learned from the best.”
“Who would that be?”
“My mother. She taught all of us boys to dance.”
“You’re right. She does do everything.”
Gabe’s arms were strong as he moved to the rhythm of the Italian love song. He talked about his mother, but Liz didn’t quite catch every word he said. She knew she should pay closer attention, that whatever he told her might serve a purpose in her future dealings with him. The problem was she felt oddly safe in his arms, as if he were the kind of man a woman could surrender all her troubles to. Liz had never bargained for her emotions to turn against her.
Then the thought struck her. Gabe must be romancing her deliberately.
Why?
The music ended, but Gabe didn’t release her. “You weren’t so bad.” He chuckled. “In fact, I could dance all night with you.”
“Why?” Liz uttered her favorite word without thinking.
Peering at her with narrowed eyes, he dropped his hands to his sides. “Because I like dancing with the prettiest girl at the party.”
She matched his piercing gaze. “I’m curious, Gabe. Why are you flattering me so much?”
“I didn’t know I was. Trust me. It’s not flattery.”
Liz didn’t trust him. He answered one compliment with another. There was only one way to ferret out the truth from a scoundrel, and that was a surprise attack.
“Gabe, did you just buy the Mattuchi farm?”
“I...”
Maddie and Nate came rushing up to Liz and Gabe. “There you are, Liz! Sarah told me you were here, but I hadn’t seen you.” Maddie hugged Liz, then stepped back to take in her outfit. “Luke was right. You look gorgeous!”
Liz shook her head. “Maddie, you’ve seen me nearly every day this week. Surely...”
Gabe interrupted. “I’ve been trying to tell her that all night. Nate, help me out here. Doesn’t Liz look amazing?”
A Fine Year for Love (Shores of Indian Lake) Page 7
