Max was curious to know what Andrea thought of him. “Go on.”
“Since Steve hasn’t been paying a lot of attention to things, I’ve noticed that Jim has been taking advantage.”
“In what way?” Every few steps their arms brushed as they walked between the rows of vines, the full moon lighting their way. Sixty degrees was warm for this time of night in the vineyard. It was no use telling himself not to feel euphoric being alone with her like this.
“Instead of reporting here at eight on weekdays as he’s supposed to do, he comes when he wants. Maybe you didn’t notice, but neither he or his crew were here when the ambulance came for your father this morning.”
“No, I must admit I wasn’t aware of much.” Max had been so shocked to find his father passed out, everything except Andrea herself had been a blur.
“A good foreman would have redoubled his efforts to keep the whole vineyard flourishing. He could have hired another man while your father was indisposed. Instead he let things go, and that’s why this year’s yield won’t be nearly as much as usual. In my opinion he doesn’t deserve the same salary, nor does his crew.”
Max stopped walking to look at her. “You’ve been reading my mind.”
A shaky breath escaped the lips he’d been dying to kiss for more years than he cared to remember.
“Sammi was really upset about it and begged me to talk to Steve. I know he kept Jim on because your grandfather hired him in the beginning, but Jim has let down his end and it isn’t fair.” Worry marred Andrea’s lovely features. “What I should have done was phone you immediately.”
The urge to hold her was too great, but the time wasn’t right. Not yet. “The main thing is, you called me this morning and I’m here now. What else is on your mind?” In order to keep his hands busy, he put them in his back pockets.
“Since things have been getting run-down, we don’t see nearly the number of tours coming to the wine-tasting room as before. I’m there for three different blocks of time between noon and evening, but often only one or two people come.”
He frowned. “When do you get the biggest crowd?”
“At noon. If people came today while we were in Rutherford, then word is going to spread we’re not a reliable establishment. That would kill Steve if he knew.”
“For now we’ll keep that to ourselves.” Max took a deep breath. “Tell you what. Report for all three sessions, but if no one appears after a half hour, then lock up, so you don’t waste your time.”
“I don’t mind, Max. It’s my job.”
“But I do.” He took a deep breath. “Until things change around here, you should be able to spend your time painting rather than waiting for customers who don’t show up.”
The divorce had come as a painful shock to Max. But it had obviously been catastrophic for his father. The far-reaching consequences were only now beginning to surface, with a lot more to come, Max was sure.
“Are you all right?” Andrea whispered, eyeing him with concern.
“With your help, I will be.” He gazed at her directly. “I won’t forget your loyalty to Dad.” Afraid if he stayed there any longer, he would do something that would shock her, he said, “We’d better get back. It’s been a long day for both of us and I want to be at the treatment center first thing in the morning.”
Her eyes held his a moment longer. “Please let me know when I can visit him?”
“I’ll ask Dr. Shand.”
ANDREA’S FITFUL SLEEP drove her from bed at six the next morning. She smoothed the hair out of eyes made puffy from crying.
Her tears had sprung from many sources. Besides her agony over Sammi and Steve, the walk with Max last night had opened her up to all kinds of feelings she had suppressed where he was concerned. When he’d been thanking her last night, her desire for him had been so great it was a miracle she hadn’t thrown herself into his arms.
Coffee. Andrea needed coffee in order to get a handle on her emotions. She padded into the kitchen to fix it. With a little caffeine and sugar her mind might start to clear.
While she sipped the hot liquid, she closed her eyes in relief that Max was in sync with her over Jim. The foreman’s poor performance had been unacceptable. Now that Steve’s son was living on the premises and knew the truth, the head vintner wouldn’t be able to get away with doing whatever he felt like.
After eating a piece of toast, she checked her e-mails. Her heart sank because there was nothing from Sammi. Andrea sent her a message anyway and signed it “Love you to pieces.”
Once she’d responded to some clients’ messages, she showered and washed her hair to get ready for the day. At ten to twelve, she locked the cottage door and stepped outside. It was lovely and warm and sunny. Perfect weather for a barbecue this evening.
There weren’t any cars in the guest parking at the side of the main house. Max’s black Mercedes was gone. He’d indicated he’d be leaving early for the treatment center to be with his father.
She walked around to the front portion that had been converted into a tasting room and restrooms for the public. As she climbed the porch steps, the sign at the side of the door mocked her. The de Roussillac Tasting Room Is Open Seven Days a Week, Twelve to One-thirty, Three to Four, Five to Six-thirty.
Being that it was a Wednesday, there probably wouldn’t be a lot of customers. As she was opening up the place, her cell phone rang. Maybe it was Sammi calling in response to her e-mail. Andrea wanted it to be her daughter so badly, she clicked on without checking the caller ID.
“Hello?” she said, moving behind the bar.
“Hey, Andrea!”
It was Nancy. With everything else on her mind, she’d almost forgotten about tonight. “Hi! I was going to call you in a little while. What else can I bring besides hamburger buns?”
“How about a man?”
“Very funny.”
“With the whole gang coming tonight I thought—”
“I know what you thought,” she interrupted in a teasing tone. Andrea rarely showed up with a date. Long ago her friends had given up trying to matchmake. “Love you anyway. What time do you want me there?”
“Seven-thirtyish. Come early and swim. Have I got a lot to talk to you about. Mike called this morning and told us he’s met this great intern from North Carolina. I heard him tell his father she’s hot!” Nancy moaned. “He’s supposed to be excited about working, not about girls.”
Andrea chuckled. “Wait till next week and he’ll probably be crazy over someone else.”
“I hope you’re right. He’s too young.”
Yup. Mike was only seventeen. Andrea knew all about getting involved too young. “I want to hear the details. Tell Pete good luck at the golf match. See you tonight.” As she hung up, she saw the door open, and let out a quiet gasp to discover Max in the entry.
He strolled over to the bar, placing his hands on the counter. With a woman’s instinct, she knew he could have married any female he wanted. If ever she allowed herself to think about the women he’d been with over the years, her envy—no, her jealousy—would drive her mad. It was better not to think about it, but right now she couldn’t help it.
He was wearing an opened-necked, cream sport shirt, and jeans that clung to his hard-muscled legs. Andrea couldn’t help but note some of his inherited French traits. Her gaze took in the slight dusting of black hair on his chest and arms. Like his father, he probably had to shave twice a day to avoid a shadow. These days Steve barely got around to it.
Max looked at home in this French setting of charming bistro tables and chairs placed on hardwood floors stained dark walnut. Among several framed Impressionist prints, some of Andrea’s best oil paintings hung on the stucco walls beneath the beamed ceiling.
A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “That mural behind you is priceless. Every time I walk in here, I marvel. The customers always go away talking about it.”
Warmth filled her. “You’re full of it, but thank you anyway.” Years ago sh
e’d painted a wall-size mural telling the de Roussillac wine story. It had been her gift to Steve for his generosity and kindness to her.
With the man’s praise and encouragement of her artistic talent, she’d slowly developed a clientele for her oils. He’d insisted on displaying them in the tasting room. In time she ventured into painting ceramic tiles, and had calls for them, as well. Andrea owed Steve everything and could never repay him for his goodness, not in a lifetime.
Max ate a few of the olives and crackers she’d put out on the counter. “I came to get some more clothes for Dad. Before I go back to the treatment center I wondered if you could explain something for me.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve been searching the books, but so far I’ve found nothing to indicate you’ve drawn a salary for the last four years. Why is that?”
“Four years ago I started making enough money from my artwork to stop accepting a salary from him, but I still continued to work for him. When he could see I wasn’t cashing my paychecks, and demanded an explanation, I told him I could never make up to him for all he’s done for me.
“He got upset and told me that wasn’t acceptable. We argued. I told him I wouldn’t take any more money from him, and planned to move out of the cottage with my aunt. Through a lot of hard study, Sammi had won a scholarship to get into Brooks, and was rarely home. Steve begged me not to go. I told him I wouldn’t leave if he’d let me continue to be his housekeeper and keep running the tasting room. He accepted the terms and we’ve lived in harmony ever since.”
While Max stood there looking stunned, a group of five tourists came into the room.
“Good afternoon,” she called out. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“It is now,” said one of the men, smiling broadly at her.
Max still hadn’t moved. His dark gaze flicked to the man before centering on her once more. “I’ll talk to you later.” When he walked out, he left her bereft. No doubt he would be spending the rest of the day and evening with his father.
Six hours later she said goodbye to the last customer of the evening and locked up, before rushing back to the cottage to get ready for the barbecue. She decided to wear her white cotton dress with the capped sleeves. It cinched at the waist with a wide belt of woven rope she’d designed. Once she’d slipped on her white sling-back sandals, she hurried out to the car.
On the way to Rutherford she picked up the hamburger buns and a sweet roll at her favorite bakery, then made a quick visit to her aunt. Edna loved sweet rolls. After giving her the day’s rundown, she kissed her cheek and promised to see her tomorrow.
A minute later Andrea arrived at the treatment center and took an extra breath when she spotted Max’s car in the parking lot.
Chapter Five
“Dad? How are you feeling?”
“Strange.” For the first time since Max had arrived, his father studied him as if he could really see him.
Max sat in a chair at the side of the bed, watching him. “Are you still nauseated?”
“Yes.”
For him to admit it, it had to be bad. “Don’t try to talk.”
“I have to. Andrea was the one who called you to come, didn’t she?”
Max sucked in his breath. “Who else?” The memory of it still played havoc with his guilt.
“She shouldn’t have. You’ve got a bank to run. Why are you still here?”
Max had been waiting for his father to become coherent enough to carry on a conversation. Now that the moment had arrived, he had difficulty finding the right place to start. He sat forward. “I’ve decided to take the whole month of May off.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Being the CEO has its perks.”
“You haven’t told your mother about me, have you?”
The anxiety in his voice was a revelation to Max. So was the switch in topic. “No. I called her this morning and told her I was spending some time with you.”
“Promise me you won’t tell her I’m in here.”
That wouldn’t be easy. “Let’s not worry about that right now.”
“Is Andrea all right?”
At the mention of her name, Max sprang to his feet. When he’d seen the way that tourist had been devouring her with his eyes, he’d wanted to tell everyone he was closing up the place so he could be alone with her.
“She’s fine.”
“I don’t know how she does it.”
Max stared down at his dad. “What do you mean?”
“Samantha has broken her mother’s heart, but that doesn’t stop Andrea from looking after me.” What had Samantha done? “Is it true I passed out at the cottage?”
“Yes,” Max murmured.
“I’m so ashamed.”
“Don’t be. You’ve been under a terrible strain.”
“There’s no excuse for it. Edna used to drink too much, but Andrea was patient with her, too. When the Alzheimer’s started, she’d put her in the wheelchair and push her along the road so she could look out at the vineyard.”
Tears squeezed out from beneath his father’s closed eyelids. “Now, when Andrea needs me most, I’ve sunk to such a low level I haven’t been there for her.”
Max sat down again. “What do you mean?”
“Samantha’s young. She doesn’t understand what Andrea was up against at the time. When I think of what she went through and the sacrifices she made…” He grew visibly agitated and tried to sit up.
Filled with alarm, Max gently eased him back against the pillow and pressed the call button. “Don’t try to talk anymore right now.”
More tears ran down his father’s cheeks. “I’ve failed everyone—you, your mother…”
Aghast at what he was hearing, Max squeezed his hand. “You’ve failed no one.” It’s the other way around. “You need rest. Let the medication work. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
He kissed his dad’s brow before heading for the door. On the way out, he met the nurse coming in. “Since my father woke up, he’s grown more agitated.”
She nodded. “I’ll make him comfortable.”
“Thank you.”
Dr. Shand was right behind her. He stayed out in the hall to talk with Max. “I’d like your permission to try an experiment of sorts, but I need to talk to you about it before I broach it with your mother.”
My mother? Dr. Shand was full of surprises. “Go on.”
“Your father has rambled on freely about everyone but her. There’s no question his depression stems from their failed marriage. I understand neither of them has had any counseling over the years.”
“No. Not my parents.”
“Then it’s time to bring them together to talk.”
Max let out a low whistle. His father didn’t want her to hear he was in the treatment center. “I’m afraid they don’t know how.”
“Precisely. But his life has never been on the line before. If I make that clear to her when I ask her to come in for a first session, do I have your backing?”
First had to mean one of many. Naturally, there would have to be more if Dr. Shand hoped to make headway with either parent. “Of course.”
“Good. I’m thinking next Saturday morning. By then your father will be well enough to deal with the elephant in the room, so to speak.”
That wasn’t very far off. Of necessity Andrea’s name would come up. The mere mention of her would burn through his mother like corrosive acid. Max plowed his fingers through his hair. The doctor didn’t realize what he was asking. “I don’t know if she’ll do it.”
“I’ve a hunch she’s been in a depressed state for years, too.”
The doctor had just hit the nail on the head. “My parents have been a disaster for most of my life.” So have I.
“Then you’re with me on this?”
Meeting the man’s gaze head-on he said, “Yes, but before you call her, there’s something I need to do first. Then I’ll phone you and give you the go-ahead.”
> Though the problem with Max’s parents had started years before Andrea entered the picture, she was his mother’s stumbling block at the moment. Until Helen was given definitive proof that Andrea and his father were friends, not lovers, then no psychotherapy would ever take place.
“Fine, but keep in mind time is of the essence where your father’s recovery is concerned.”
Max knew that, but there was so much more at stake here than the doctor could possibly imagine. His mother had flatly refused to tell him the name of her informant. After the funeral, when he’d come to talk to his father about it, Steve hadn’t been at the vineyard. Right now he wasn’t well enough for such a discussion. That meant Max needed Andrea to help him figure it out.
In order for that to happen, he would have to tell her his mother had initiated the divorce because of a rumor about her and his father. Knowing it would cause Andrea pain, he would have to proceed carefully.
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Good.” The doctor clapped him on the shoulder before entering his father’s room to finish his nightly rounds.
Max stood there deep in thought. As soon as he got back to the vineyard, he’d go over to the cottage. Andrea might not be there, but he’d take his chances. He’d been waiting years for a legitimate excuse to spend time with her.
Last night, he felt he’d achieved a slight breakthrough. Though the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his parents’ problems with her, the situation had to be dealt with for everyone’s sanity.
He strode down the hall toward the entrance, and was stunned to discover the subject of his thoughts coming through the main doors. They glanced at each other at the same moment.
“Max?” Andrea sounded out of breath and looked fantastic in a white dress that showed off her hourglass figure. “How’s your father?”
“He’s coming along. Dr. Shand’s in with him now.”
“I wanted to be here sooner, but we had a surprising number of customers this evening, and then I had to drop in on my aunt.”
A Mother's Wedding Day Page 4
