She had to pull herself together. She had an entire summer’s and autumn’s worth of wedding-related events to endure with him. He’d humiliated her already. She couldn’t let her girlfriends know how much he’d duped her. Used her.
Soon, Gabe would be out at the Mattuchi vineyard nearly every day.
A few short weeks ago, she’d been in power, controlling her own business, vineyard and life.
Along with the shock of the lost cashier’s check, Gabe had appeared, and everything had been inverted. She didn’t know up from down anymore. The worst part of it was that she’d fallen in love with him, and as a consequence of that she had to keep him at arm’s length, to push him out of her life. She wanted her world to go back to the way it had been before he’d stumbled into it.
But it wasn’t working out that way.
He’d accused her of being paranoid.
Gabe standing next to her—so close she could feel his breath on her cheek—pointing out her flaws, should have crushed her on the spot. But somehow, she’d stood up to him. She hadn’t blinked or cried. She’d withstood his flogging and watched as he’d walked away.
She’d found the courage to pretend he had not hurt her. To act as if his words would have no lasting impact. But it wasn’t true.
Here, deep in the earth, where no one could see or hear her, she could shout, scream, yell and curse him.
But she didn’t.
Because he was right.
I am paranoid. I am afraid.
Until an hour ago, Liz had allowed herself to believe that Gabe saw past her fears and accepted her the way she was.
She had been wrong. He’d wanted her land. Not her.
And what if he had actually wanted Liz? The land came with her. What would he do if she didn’t have it? Would he want her then?
The ache in Liz’s heart was agonizing. But her anger was stronger—it grew and burned away the pain of her heartbreak.
Tears had been streaming down Liz’s cheeks, though she had remained unaware of them. She’d been used. She’d told Gabe private things about her parents and her love for her grandfather. Had told him her goals for the vineyard. She’d shared her dreams with him. And worse, she’d told him her fears.
You must have lost your mind! she chided herself. Well, it’s the last time. This can’t happen again. Ever.
Everyone on the vineyard depended on Liz. Her strength, energy and passion kept the vines alive and the company’s hopes thriving.
It was up to her to erase Gabe Barzonni from her life. She would find a way to pay the taxes and she would find a way to fulfill her father’s dream.
She would do it.
And she would do it on her own.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LIZ SAT IN the kitchen staring at the vineyard ledger on her laptop and feeling gloom seep into her veins. She’d paid yet another large check on the back taxes, finished the payroll for the skeleton crew of day workers they absolutely had to hire for the harvest and covered the month’s utility bills. There was less than five hundred dollars left in the account. Liz had drained the savings two weeks before to pay six thousand on the current property taxes and mortgage. Though their summer sales had been strong, the tourist trade was going to drop off in the fall. Two days ago, she’d landed a small grocery chain account down county, and that would help them through to the winter holidays.
They’d always managed to make it through from one year to the next. She reminded herself that both Sam and Aurelio had predicted a bumper crop this harvest, which would yield a third more bottles of wine than last year. If that came to fruition, they could make it, but barely.
Still, only having five hundred dollars for groceries, gasoline and essentials for the rest of the month made Liz uneasy.
She turned off the computer and looked over at the pretty present she’d wrapped for Maddie and Nate’s couple’s shower at Mrs. Beabots’s. Even her precarious financial situation didn’t fill her with as much trepidation as the thought of tonight’s party.
It was mid-September—nearly a month since she’d last heard from Gabe. She knew in her heart her initial assessment of him as a thief had been correct. He had never wanted her. He’d only used her to try to buy her fallow land.
She’d revealed her innermost aspirations to him—making Crenshaw Vineyards as productive as any California vineyard. Gabe knew of Liz’s devotion to Sam and her concern for his well-being. These were the priorities in her life. Had he not heard her? Did he honestly believe she would consider selling to him?
For all his protestations that he just wanted to be her friend, what he really wanted was to plunder her. Perhaps Gabe was following in his father’s footsteps in more ways than one. Angelo had coerced many farmers into selling to him when times had been tough. Maybe Gabe had thought he would give his father’s tactics a try.
Liz had avoided Gabe completely since that day on the hill. She had successfully kept to the vineyard, occupied as she had been with end-of-summer duties, including bringing in the harvest.
Tonight, her asylum ended. Not only was Liz expected to be present at the shower, but Sam had talked about nothing else for two weeks. He’d bought a new white shirt and sport coat for the occasion. Liz had considered making a last-minute excuse so she didn’t have to go. She could always give Maddie her gift later, or send it with Sam. But Maddie would have been very disappointed if any of her friends wasn’t with her. Maddie’s only family member was her reclusive mother, and Babs Strong had not been invited to the wedding. Liz wanted to be a loyal friend, even if seeing Gabe tonight would be like facing the devil. Liz steeled herself for the showdown.
“Grandpa!” Liz shouted. “Are you ready?”
“What?” Sam answered from the living room.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked, picking up her gift and carrying it down the hall. Sam was sitting in his recliner, watching the weather channel with the sound muted. “Why are you still wearing your work clothes?”
He looked up at Liz, who was dressed in a midnight-blue cocktail dress with a sequined and beaded cardigan to match. On her feet she wore gold, low-heeled sandals. “Where are you going?”
“We are going to Mrs. Beabots’s shower for Maddie and Nate.”
“That’s tomorrow.”
“This is tomorrow.”
Sam’s eyes flew open and he nearly hopped out of his chair with more energy than she’d seen in him in years. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“Don’t forget to shave!” she said as he whisked past her and slammed the bathroom door.
* * *
MRS. BEABOTS’S GRAND Victorian home was ablaze with lights. Enormous Boston ferns hung from the porch ceiling. Soon, Mrs. Beabots would take them indoors and nurture the plants until the January furnace heat destroyed them. Liz wondered offhandedly if Gabe’s nursery, where he fostered his grape vines and grafted rootstocks, would offer the right climate in which to prolong the life of Mrs. Beabots’s ferns.
Liz parked half a block from Mrs. Beabots’s. Sam got out of the truck and nearly bolted down the sidewalk, stopping halfway to the house. “C’mon, Lizzie. Take the lead out of those shoes.”
“My goodness. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a hot date waiting for you.”
“Don’t be silly. But Emma is the best cook in town.”
Liz walked up to him and put her arm through his. “Emma, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call her by her first name.”
Sam grinned. “She was a real beauty in her day.”
“She still is. And she’s sharper than you are.”
“Honey, everyone on the planet is sharper than I am,” Sam joked.
As they climbed the steps of the front porch, Liz glanced up the boulevard and noticed both sides were filled with cars she recognized. Including
a newly polished black Porsche.
She swallowed hard and touched her earrings. It wasn’t like her to feel self-conscious, but she did now. She couldn’t understand why she would be feeling this way. Wasn’t she trying to thwart Gabe’s romantic moves? Wasn’t she trying to signal that she was off-limits? Wasn’t she still livid with him? She was the one who had been wronged. She would have to hold her ground and not buckle.
He only wants what you represent, Liz. He doesn’t want you. Never did.
As Sam rang the bell, they could hear music playing and laughter inside. Lots of laughter.
And then the door flew open.
“Emma!”
Mrs. Beabots was dressed in a vintage black knit Chanel suit with gold buttons and gold braid trim, just as the designer herself would have worn in 1945. Her hair was meticulously coiffed in a sleek, chin-length cut that, though gray, looked very much like Coco’s. However, Liz seriously doubted the famous Parisian designer had possessed as much sparkle and energy at eighty-one as Mrs. Beabots did.
“Liz, don’t you look scrumptious.” She held out her arms for a hug.
“Thank you for hosting this party, Mrs. Beabots. I know Maddie is so happy and thankful.” Liz felt tears in her eyes. “You are her real family.”
“I know, pumpkin. I know. But you’re her sister, as well. And don’t forget it. That’s what we all are here in Indian Lake—family for each other.”
Then Mrs. Beabots turned to Sam, who was patiently waiting for recognition. “Sam,” she said in a gentle whisper. “I’m so very glad to see you.”
Sam leaned down, hugged Mrs. Beabots and lifted her up off the floor.
“Oh, you crazy boy. Put me down.” Mrs. Beabots giggled.
Sam set her back down on the floor.
“Now come in and join the others.”
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Liz asked as she and Sam followed the older woman inside.
“I always have jobs for my girls. Would you supervise the gifts? Lands above, but yours is the prettiest one here, Liz. I put them all in the front parlor since the buffet is in the dining room and the guests are all gathered in the living room. The front parlor was always Maddie’s favorite, Sam. It seemed appropriate to me that Maddie and Nate open their gifts in there. It’s small, but we’ll all peek around the corners. What do you think, Liz?” Mrs. Beabots rambled.
“We’ll make it work. We could even film them and conference call everyone on their smartphones.”
“Are you speaking in Martian, dear?” Mrs. Beabots asked, leading them to the dining room.
The long table was covered with platters of appetizers, from crab rangoon to sugared bacon bites to tiny red potatoes filled with feta cheese and chives. Liz knew Mrs. Beabots had made all the appetizers herself, and each bite would be cooked to perfection. Her grandfather was right. Mrs. Beabots was Indian Lake’s best cook. She wasn’t about to let her reputation dim.
At the far end of the room a large round table held five antique epergnes filled with Maddie’s signature cupcakes, iced in a rainbow of colors. Illuminated icicles, silver snowflakes and crystal stars were suspended above the cupcakes, and Liz guessed this was going to be the aesthetic of Maddie’s winter wedding reception.
Sam proudly poured himself a glass of Crenshaw merlot, while Liz helped herself to some champagne.
Taking in all of Mrs. Beabots’s careful preparations for the party, Liz felt a lump of emotion deep in her throat. When Mrs. Beabots said that Sarah, Maddie, Liz, Isabelle and Olivia were like daughters to her, she was more than serious. They were her family. They were all orphans of one kind or another. Emotionally, they had all needed a mother, and Mrs. Beabots had been that to each of them. She had been their lifeline when they had needed one. Even in her vintage Chanel suit, she was full of homespun wisdom. She was worldly and small town at the same time. She was more than just a friend—she had been a mentor, guide and supporter for all the young women in Liz’s group.
“Liz?”
Liz’s mind slammed into the wall of reality.
“Gabriel.”
He was shockingly handsome in an indigo suit that must have been custom-made—no store-bought garment could have skimmed a man’s body that expertly. But it wasn’t the suit or the white shirt or the silk tie that made her weak. It was the look in his eyes as he gazed at her. She saw pain, contrition and regret in those blue depths, and for an instant, she felt guilty for putting those feelings there.
Then she felt adrenaline shoot down her spine and turn it to titanium. She lifted her glass of champagne. “Here’s to the happy couple.”
“Barzonni,” Sam grumbled, sticking out his hand. “I assume your family is here?”
“Yes, sir. My brothers are in the living room with my father. My mother is in the kitchen helping with something or other.”
“Gina would do just that,” Sam said, immediately putting his glass down on a table and walking toward the kitchen.
Liz peered at her grandfather curiously. “How does he know...” She never finished her question, as Gabe moved in beside her and she lost her train of thought.
“How are you, Liz?” he asked. The nonchalance in his tone sounded forced, and his face was filled with unease.
She folded her arms across her chest. “Fine, thanks,” she said cordially, as if they were distant acquaintances. As if they had never kissed.
“Still hating me, I see.”
Liz peered at him. He was standing unnervingly close to her. She wondered if he knew the dramatic effect his movements had on her. And if he did, was he using that to manipulate her?
She had to brace herself to keep from getting caught in his game, because right now all she could think about was his scent and warmth. She ached to put her hand in his.
Liz lifted her chin haughtily. “And do you blame me?”
“Liz.” He breathed her name in a way that made her breath catch.
“No, Gabe,” she said, her better sense prevailing. “I don’t hate you. I haven’t given you a second thought.”
“Oh. That bad, huh?” He looked away and then leaned in so that his eyes bored into hers. She had no choice but to gaze into their depths. “Liz, you have me all wrong. You misunderstood everything I was trying to say.”
“Oh, and you’re so innocent,” she shot back sarcastically. “I suppose that’s why you sent me all those emails and texts.” She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. She’d tipped her hand, revealing that she had expected, even wanted, to hear from him. She hadn’t played this very cool at all. In fact, she needed to just stop talking altogether in order to prove to him he didn’t matter to her in the least.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “You’re honestly telling me you would have read anything I might have sent?”
“No. I’d delete them.”
“I figured.”
She pulled back from him like a turtle going into its shell. “I’ll tell you what, Gabe. You go your way, I go mine. It’s for the best. I’ll see you at...at however many of these things we have to attend for Maddie and Luke’s sake.”
“Liz,” Gabe said in a low, serious tone. “I wanted to help you, not hurt you. I still do, but you’re jumping back from me faster than a jackrabbit from a predator. And I have to constantly ask myself why that is.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do,” he said, placing his hand around her wrist. “Right now your pulse is beating like a war drum. You act like an animal that’s caught in a trap. I’m not the enemy here, Liz.”
“You’re not my friend, either.”
“I’m trying to be, Liz. Maybe you’ve never had a real friend before...”
Angrily, she snatched her hand from his grasp. “I have lots of friends,” she replied tersely.<
br />
“Sure, girlfriends. Who all have their own lives and loves. But what about you? Don’t you ever ask yourself if you’d like the same thing?”
“Look who’s talking,” she said, jamming her forefinger into his chest. “You’re the original love-’em-and-leave-’em lothario.”
“Wrong. Sadly, I didn’t love them in the first place. I didn’t take the time. This is different.”
Liz sucked in her breath. “Different? What are you saying?”
“What I’ve known for some time now is that you mean a lot to me.” He mussed his hair with his fingers. “Frankly, you make me nuts. I can’t get through a single hour without thinking about you.”
He smiled slowly, with warmth and sincerity, and for an instant, Liz almost fell into his trap. She had to get away from Gabe and her love for him. No good could come of it. Just the idea of giving in to her feelings for him shot terror through her veins. If she fell for him, it would end eventually, just as all real love stories did. Liz didn’t believe in taking chances. She believed in keeping everything precise, orderly and manageable, just like her rows of grape vines.
Giving Gabe access to her heart would be a disastrous move. It could only end in heartbreak. Even if things worked out between them, they’d eventually have to face the greatest loss of all: death. Just as she had had to do at a very young age.
Liz could feel the panic building. “This...scenario you’re trying to manufacture...”
“Manufacture?” He shook his head. “Liz, you don’t take me for that much of a fool, do you? There’s already something going on. You wouldn’t have kissed me the way you did if you didn’t feel something for me.”
“That was before I discovered your true motivation. You just want my land.”
He pulled back. “Get off that, will you? It’s true that your land would be a dream come true for me. But wanting that doesn’t negate my feelings for you or what I think is happening between us. Besides, I already have a vineyard.”
“A playground. A patch. That’s all that little space is.” She waved her hand in the air. “That’s not enough for you and we both know it.”
A Fine Year for Love (Shores of Indian Lake) Page 16
