by Calista Fox
She said, “I understand you and Rogen are back together. As a couple?”
Do not gnaw your lip.
Jewel lifted her chin and said, “It’s a bit more complex than that.”
“Yes, I can imagine. Since I’ve also heard that you’re back together with Vin.”
Oh, boy.
The salads arrived. Jewel picked at the romaine lettuce with her fork.
“Tell me,” Rose-Marie encouraged. “How do you see this working out? With the three of you.”
Jewel cut strips of chicken. Though she didn’t take a bite.
She glanced up at Rose-Marie and admitted, “I don’t have an answer for you. This all came about unexpectedly. It’s been challenging, emotionally. But Rogen and Vin understand how I feel about them.”
“How do you feel, Jewel? Are you in love with them? Both of them?”
“Yes.” That didn’t require a moment of consideration. She knew it to the depths of her soul. Jewel said, “I know Rogen and I falling in love when we were kids might seem inconsequential and immature. But the feelings only grew. Intensified over the years. And, for me, never fully went away.”
“And what about Vin?” Rose-Marie quietly asked. Not accusatorily. More … curiously. “We didn’t realize the two of you were an item until right around his high school graduation. Why was it a secret? Were you trying to keep it from Rogen?”
“Rogen and I had broken up by then. But, yes, that is one of the reasons we never went public, until a couple weeks before prom—and even that was very discreet. Mostly just Bay and Scarlet knew. I went to Trinity to explain it all to Rogen. Behind my parents’ backs, and yours and Mr. Angelini’s. Yet I never actually told Rogen, because I realized when I saw him that I still had feelings for him.”
“And Vin.”
“Yes. Another reason I didn’t want anyone to know”—she gave Rose-Marie an earnest look—“was because I was afraid your husband might ship him off, too. Before he turned eighteen.”
“Hmm.” She pushed her salad around on the plate as well. But never raised the fork to her mouth. Her gaze returned to Jewel and she said, “That was never a consideration. Though our hearts broke for him following his parents’ deaths, it was a blessing that Vin came to live with us. Having him there helped to heal our home. Our lives.”
Jewel sensed there was much more meaning behind those words. She very respectfully, tentatively, asked, “Having Rogen there wouldn’t have done the same?”
Rose-Marie’s shoulders squared. Defensively. Her voice turned a bit darker as she said, “I regret that we insisted he go to Trinity. Every day after he left, I regretted it. I cried. I missed him terribly. But I was in no condition to be a mother to him after—”
Taylor.
She didn’t have to say her daughter’s name. Jewel instantly felt the woman’s pain. It sliced right through her. Stealing her breath.
Rose-Marie glanced away. Sniffled. Worked to compose herself as she stared out the window.
Jewel reached across the table and covered Rose-Marie’s hand with hers. “I’m sorry.”
Rogen’s mother nodded, her gaze still on the bay. “I know Trinity was a better environment for my son. Overnight, the mansion became like a mausoleum. Bleak. Cryptic. Somber.”
“Fragile,” Jewel added. “I felt it, too.”
Rose-Marie’s attention shifted to Jewel. Both their eyes were misty.
The other woman said, “Rogen needed to find some inner peace. Unfortunately, Gian sending him to school all the way across the country caused him to lose more of it. Because we sent him away from you.”
Now were they getting to it? The real reason behind the exile?
Jewel brazenly asked, “Is it true that you and your husband wanted to separate us so that we’d fall out of love? Meet someone else. Never marry each other.”
Vin had made that comment on their trip. It had stuck with Jewel.
Rose-Marie stared at her for several suspended seconds. Myriad emotions swirled in her pale-gold irises.
Jewel had no idea how long it took for Rogen’s mother to respond. She waited with mounting anxiety, her heart constricting.
Eventually, Rose-Marie said, “Yes.”
Jewel’s gaze dropped. Her hand covering Rose-Marie’s slipped away.
She swallowed down a hard lump of pain and asked, “Is it because you didn’t think I was good enough for him? Not smart enough for him?”
“It had nothing to do with you personally, Jewel.”
Now anger flashed through her. “It was all because of my last name?”
“Yes. Gian—” The other woman shook her head. “That’s neither here nor there. What I’d really like to say to you is that I actually do understand your current predicament. With Rogen and Vin.”
This piqued her interest, though Jewel was still a bit shredded and hung up on Rose-Marie’s previous confession.
Jewel asked, “What do you mean, you understand?”
With a tight smile, she said, “I was once in love with two men at the same time.”
Whoa. Bombshell.
Continuing, Rose-Marie insisted, “It was nowhere near as racy as what I’ve heard of your … affair … around town. You see, the first man I fell in love with, my freshman year of college, went to school at Oxford. I met him at a Christmas party—he was visiting friends who attended San Francisco State. We clicked instantly. Spent the entire break together. Were completely inseparable. I was crazy about him.” She smiled softly at the memory. Then sighed. “But, of course, distance is never a true friend to anyone in love. We wrote regularly. Spoke on the phone. But about a year later, something had begun to change with mine and Gian’s friendship.”
Well, well. Wasn’t this a familiar story?
“One day we were just teasing each other over silly stuff and the next … we were kissing. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.
“I can relate,” Jewel told her. “It’s like kismet throws a switch and suddenly—electricity.”
“Exactly.”
They shared a knowing moment.
Then Rose-Marie said, “Of course, I was torn between the two. But I had to be practical about it. Alexander lived in England and had no intention of moving to the States. I never wanted to leave River Cross. So I deliberated over the situation. Vacillated between the two men. Weighed pros and cons. And then I realized that I loved one more than the other.”
That was where the kindred spiritship shattered.
Jewel sat back in her chair, no longer enrapt. “You’re telling me I should choose.”
“It’s only fair, don’t you think? And, honestly, Jewel. What would your future be like, having a relationship with both of them? Where would you live? How would you explain your romantic scenario to people? Would you marry one of them? Both? What about children? How on earth could you manage that? Rogen and Vin are extremely territorial—do you believe they each could accept you carrying the other’s child?”
Now Jewel couldn’t breathe. She sipped her tea as her head spun. Christ, she hadn’t gotten that far with agonizing over the love triangle.
She said, “This is all very new and—”
“My dear,” Rose-Marie interjected, her tone soft again. Maternal. “I’m trying to protect you as much as I am Rogen and Vin. These things always end badly. Someone always gets hurt.”
Jewel could hardly dispute that logic. The threesome had already experienced that. Many times over.
“The difficulty,” the older woman said, “comes when you let it play out for too long. Until something—or someone—snaps.”
Jewel waited for the server to refresh their glasses before she insisted, “The three of us have been very open with one another.”
With a slight shake of her head, Rose-Marie told her, “It’s not ideal, Jewel. Or suitable in any form. And quite frankly, I don’t appreciate hearing the rumors. I’m sure your mother doesn’t, either. Is it fair to hurt her as well?”
That was a strategic stab in the heart, so pleasantly veiled.
But Jewel latched on to her own weapon and said, “I’m surprised you care how any of this affects my parents. You hate my mother. After decades of friendship, you shunned her.”
Rose-Marie’s gaze turned hooded. Clouded. “I’ve never hated Sophia. Not a day in my life. What I feel, Jewel, is a much, much stronger, more loathsome emotion than hate.”
Jewel stared at the woman sitting across from her, a look on her face that almost made Jewel wonder if Rose-Marie thought of herself as some sort of monster.
“What is it, then?” Jewel managed to ask, albeit with trepidation and a hint of fear.
Rose-Marie pinned her with a pained expression. And said, “Envy.”
The breath rushed from Jewel’s opened mouth. Her insides seized up. She continued to stare at Rose-Marie. Aghast.
The self-perceived monster sitting across from her gave a gentle smile. “Eat your salad, dear. I did invite you to lunch, after all.”
TWENTY-ONE
How far are you willing to go?
Jewel posed the query to herself for the umpteenth time that afternoon.
Regardless of the dire warning issued by Rogen’s mother cloaked in emotional blackmail—and her own personal torment—the plain and simple truth was: The woman had a point.
Several of them, actually.
So now Jewel had to seriously consider how far she’d take her involvement with her two lovers, knowing this plain and simple truth.
While Jewel paced her office after a very uncomfortable, somewhat harrowing, lunch and stewed over … everything … her thoughts kept returning to what Rose-Marie had said about someone always getting hurt in these types of situations. All the questions she’d posed that Jewel had not previously considered and had not been able to answer. Lobbed on top of Rogen wondering whether she truly understood what it would really mean to be in a long-term, committed relationship with him and Vin.
She loved both men. To the depths of her soul.
But what sort of position were they really putting themselves in? If things went awry, if it didn’t pan out for one or all of the reasons Rose-Marie had addressed, or for any other reason, how would it affect them all?
What about Rogen and Vin’s friendship? Christ, they were like brothers.
Jewel had come between them once before. Albeit temporarily. Still, it could happen again. And this time it might be even more disastrous. Something none of them could recover from …
There was something else Rose-Marie had said that kept pecking away at Jewel’s brain.
I’ve never hated Sophia. Not a day in my life. What I feel, Jewel, is a much, much stronger, more loathsome emotion than hate.
Jewel snatched her iPhone from the desk and called Rogen.
He wasn’t exactly in a fantastic mood.
“I cannot get my father to budge,” he said crossly.
She groaned. “To be honest, I’m certain my father will never agree to the sale now, either. Not while my mother’s still so upset over … us.”
“Fuck!” he roared. “We were so goddamn close.”
To the joint venture … and to a three-way happily ever after.
Jewel’s eyes briefly closed.
Kismet and family forces had fucked them again?
Maybe …
Or maybe not.
Because they still had one more avenue to explore.
Perking up, she contended, “It’s not over yet. Vin hit upon a valid point the other night. So get your mother to Tea and Sympathy at six P.M. tomorrow. The back room with the private entrance. I’ll make a reservation for three—her, you, and Vin. In your name, in case she gets suspicious and calls the restaurant.”
“What’s cooking in that clever brain of yours?”
“Just play along. I have a plan.”
A unicorn, if you will.…
* * *
Jewel walked into the cozy event room of Tea & Sympathy in River Cross and wanted very much to simply turn around and walk out.
Rogen and Vin were there—which made her blood sing.
But Rose-Marie was present as well, as Jewel had requested of Rogen. And the sight of her made Jewel’s stomach plummet to her knees. Because this was not going to be a pleasant get-together.
Rose-Marie sat at the far end of the coffee table, sipping her tea. She gently placed the china cup on its saucer as Jewel rounded the squat table, Rogen in a chair on one side, Vin on the sofa opposite him. Today, Rose-Marie wore her trademark color, blue. A pale shade that complemented her delicate features, fair skin coloring, and unique golden irises.
Since Jewel had been the one to plan the rendezvous, she’d carefully selected her own attire—a bronze satin short-sleeved, off-the-shoulder mini. Elegant and subtle versus flashy and risqué.
Jewel left a quick kiss on Rose-Marie’s cool cheek and said, “Lovely to see you again.”
“You, as well. Although I wasn’t expecting you for tea.” Rose-Marie slid a glance from Vin to Rogen, who opened his mouth as though about to explain.
But then Jewel’s mother—always one to make a grand entrance—came blowing into the room with her signature Giorgio Beverly Hills Red perfume surrounding her in an alluring cloud while she chatted animatedly on her iPhone.
She pulled up short when she saw the small gathering and stopped mid-sentence, her jaw instantly slacking.
Sophia, dressed in a semi-sheer leopard-print button-down blouse, and slim black pants and ankle boots, eyed Rose-Marie while saying to her caller, “I’ll have to get back to you.” She disconnected and dropped her phone into the beige leather handbag dangling in the crook of her arm at her side. Her palm up. She waggled a few fingers and said, “What the hell is this?”
Jewel returned to the entryway and closed the pocket doors to the main restaurant for privacy.
“I believe it’s called a Come to Jesus meeting,” Rose-Marie said in a tight voice. “Which I am not interested in attending.” She got to her feet.
“Mother,” Rogen countered, also standing. “Vin, Jewel, and I set this up. Because Dad reneged on his deal with Jewel.”
“And you blame me?” Rose-Marie demanded.
“For the record,” Sophia chimed in, “we’re not signing, either.”
“Mother!” Frustration tore through Jewel.
Rose-Marie said to Jewel, “I believe I was abundantly clear at lunch about mine and Gian’s feelings regarding your … relationship. And it is no secret that we do not want an Angelini-Catalano business deal now or in the future.”
“Lunch?” Sophia’s wounded gaze shot to Jewel, now lingering by the sofa, close to Vin. Needing his silent reassurance, his commanding presence, to keep her steady. “Since when do you lunch with Rose-Marie Angelini?”
Jewel bit back a long-suffering sigh. “It was just the once, Mother. She invited me while she was in the city.”
“In the city, my foot,” Sophia scoffed. “Rose-Marie only goes into the city to shop, and that obviously wasn’t the case—she went specifically to see you, Jewel—because that dress she’s wearing is not new. I saw her in it two weeks ago when I passed by the Soroptimist luncheon in the dining room of Voltaire’s on my way to the Junior League luncheon on the patio.”
“Yes, well, it is a bit more appropriate for early-evening tea than leopard print,” Rose-Marie snarled.
Jewel rolled her eyes. After fifteen years apart, they still bickered like sisters.
Oddly, she found that encouraging.
“Ladies, please,” Vin interrupted as he stood, towering over the group, filling the space with his impossibly broad shoulders. Exciting Jewel, despite the tension hanging thick and palpable in the air. “We didn’t get you together to clash over outfits.”
Rose-Marie crossed her arms over her chest. “This is about the property, then?”
“Yes,” Rogen said. “Maybe you can shed some light on why my father is so hell-bent on screwing Jewel over by not honoring his w
ord and handshake, and plotting to trick her out of her bargaining chip.”
“I knew it.” Sophia tsked, full-on admonishment toward Rose-Marie and just shy of an I told you so to Jewel.
“Mother,” Jewel quietly scolded.
“Fine,” Sophia said. Though she pinned Rose-Marie with a stern look and suggested, “Why don’t you tell them? Jewel, specifically. She has a right to know, doesn’t she?”
Rose-Marie gave a slight shake of her head. “This has nothing to do with Jewel.”
“It has everything to do with Jewel!” Sophia erupted, taking everyone aback. “It has always had everything to do with Jewel!”
Her mother’s intensity rocked Jewel. She reached out a hand and latched on to Vin’s dress shirt at his waist to stabilize herself. He placed a comforting solid hand at the small of her back.
“What the hell is going on?” Rogen slowly asked. As though he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Jewel was feeling a little queasy herself over the prospect of hearing out Rose-Marie. If she chose to spill. Because the look on her own mother’s face was one Jewel had never seen before. Full of sheer agony.
Yet Sophia quickly schooled her expression. Took several deep, calming breaths. Then said, “Tell them, Rose-Marie.” Her voice was much smoother, softer. That was Sophia Catalano for you—ever the expert at composing herself after an outburst, which she rarely tempered when she felt it was warranted. “This has gone on much too long. Tell them everything. Tell them why you used the development of the marketplace on the land we jointly own as an excuse to sever ties with my family. When everyone involved agreed the profits generated would far exceed those of a viticulture center. And that the return on investment was meant solely for Angelini and Catalano heirs—our children, Rose-Marie. And their children, their grandchildren, and so on. We’d all agreed to it. But you claimed that when Gian turned his back during Taylor’s illness, Anthony drove a knife in.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Jewel whispered. This was about to get ugly.
Actually, it already was.
Sophia continued. “The so-called family feud was nothing more than a dissolution of lifelong friendships and a successful business partnership.” She still spoke at a reasonable decibel, though pain and anguish tinged her voice. “The Angelinis needed an excuse for the fallout, and the land dispute worked perfectly.” With another hard glare toward Rose-Marie, she added, “And we let you use it.”
