A Kiss of Cabernet

by Pamela Gibson

  Summoning her to Philadelphia certainly didn’t have anything to do with missing her or wanting to see her again. He’d said nothing personal. Nada.

  Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he was surrounded by people.

  Or maybe he was subtly telling her their fling was at an end. They’d agreed on a one-night stand. No commitments. No future. But there was only one reason she could think of to summon her to Philadelphia.

  He’d sold the vineyard.

  Leaning against the kitchen wall, she slid to the floor. Bay curled next to her, trying to give comfort, but it still hurt. Jake was going to take away everything she had worked for, everything she cared about, except for one thing that she’d come to realize she cared about more. But she couldn’t have him. How would she keep her dignity through a business discussion? Why couldn’t he do this on his own?

  Her throat tight with unshed tears, she lay on the floor, curled into a ball. Exhausted, she must have drifted off to sleep because she awoke to a dog licking her face. Getting up from her cramped position, she went into the bathroom to clean up. A stranger stared back at her in the mirror, a weakling. Drying her face she stood up straight and took her suitcase out of the closet.

  “I can do this,” she said to the mirror. “When it’s over and I come back, if there’s a new owner and he doesn’t want me here, Papa will take me in until I find another job.”

  Brave words.

  She wished she believed them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “A winery’s ‘house red’ is usually a blend of leftover grapes that were the best producers in a particular year. Drink it when you don’t know what else to serve, or if you just need a friend.”

  —from Paige Reynoso’s tasting notes

  The limousine made no stops on the drive from the hotel. Paige was subdued, staring straight ahead, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. A folder rested on the floor, containing the records of her life’s work. Jake tried to get her to relax by asking her about her post-harvest routine, but gave up when he got no response. They both sensed what was coming, and neither wanted to accept it.

  He’d met her in the hotel lobby this morning and filled her in on Sven’s demands. He’d caught his breath when she stepped out of the elevator, looking beautiful in her tailored suit with its midthigh skirt that showed off her tanned legs. He remembered kissing every inch of them the night they’d made love. When he approached, she’d given him a quick smile and turned toward the dining room. A lump had formed in his throat, and it was still there.

  She probably hates me.

  He gazed out the window, not seeing the buildings they passed. His thoughts turned to the upcoming meeting.

  Why was Sven so adamant about buying the Napa property? Jake pondered the question so many times he’d run out of even stupid answers. He couldn’t imagine Sven in the countryside, and for all of its sophistication, Napa was still very much a country town. He couldn’t see Sven at county fairs or fund-raisers. Even the famous Napa Valley Wine Auction with its celebrity guests wouldn’t appeal to a tightwad like Sven.

  So why was he doing this? Jake had done a quick internet search, looking for anything that might give him a clue to Sven’s motivation. The man was bizarre. But this obsession with Garnet Hill was over the top. He scrolled through a ton of garbage regarding Sven’s personal life, his properties, his investments, even a few failed schemes. Nothing linked him to Napa.

  It has to be revenge. Nothing else fits.

  Maybe Sven had found out about his relationship with Paige and decided this was a good way to hurt him. It had been so sudden even he wouldn’t have called it a relationship until a few days ago. Could it be that he wanted to get to Jake by ripping Paige’s life to pieces? That didn’t make sense. Why insist she be present unless it was to humiliate him in front of her. Or make him hurt knowing she was in pain.

  A slight pressure next to his shoulder took him out of his reverie. Paige had dozed off and was leaning against him. He put his arm around her and tucked her close, hoping she wouldn’t pull away. He wanted this woman in his life permanently, but he couldn’t marry anyone. He couldn’t put any woman through the agony his mother faced as his father slipped deeper into his disease. He loved Paige too much. He didn’t dare father any children, and she deserved a family. But it was the day-to-day deterioration he feared most, until mind and body were completely dependent. No. He could not…would not…do that to her.

  He hadn’t had a major episode lately. It would be nice to think he was getting better, but that was pure wishful thinking. He couldn’t let his mind wander in that direction because there was no cure.

  Be strong, damn it. Think of her.

  She stirred, and he held her close, drinking in the lemon scent of her shampoo as he thought back to all the stages of self-pity he’d gone through. Right after his first episode, he’d done the “why me” bit and the “what have I done to deserve this” examination. After that he’d come to terms with his fate. He didn’t have Paige then, and if he continued along these lines of thinking, he would be wallowing in pity again. He shifted in his seat, settled Paige more firmly under his arm, and cleared his mind. Maybe he, too, could doze for a while.

  …

  “We’re here.”

  Paige opened her eyes and burrowed back into the warmth of the chest she was leaning against.

  “Wake up. We’ve got to put our business faces on for this meeting.”

  She opened her eyes and remembered where she was and why she was there. A snowball in the face couldn’t have been more effective. Straightening her clothes, she sat up and repinned the braid that was twisted into a knot on her head. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep, but she’d lain awake for hours last night, too keyed up to sleep.

  She’d steeled herself for her early meeting with Jake. Cloaking herself in professionalism, she’d listened intently to everything he said. He swore he would try to talk Sven into trading other properties for his stock. It might work, he’d said.

  She wanted to believe him. But even he sounded unconvinced. His anguish had softened her, but her defenses were in tight control. A strong impulse told her to put her arms around Jake and comfort him. But in her heart she knew this was the last time they’d be together. If she gave in, only pain awaited her.

  The coming ordeal was painful enough.

  She got out of the car in front of a red brick building with long windows and mature trees that shaded the concrete walkways. Similar structures dotted the landscape behind it. She hadn’t realized what a large campus Pantheon had. Leaves the color of rust and magenta drifted gently to the ground in the midday breeze.

  Several people walking out of the building stopped to shake Jake’s hand or greet him in passing. He seemed to be a popular guy here.

  They entered the building and stopped at a security desk. The officer waved at Jake and made out a visitor’s badge for Paige. Dark wood furniture decorated the main lobby with overstuffed chairs flanking a wood trestle table holding a giant bouquet of flowers. They walked up the staircase that curved off in two directions at the landing. Approaching a double door, they entered a room that overlooked the front of the complex.

  An older man with short sandy hair and rugged good looks stepped forward with outstretched hand. His lips were stretched in a thin smile and lines around his mouth made him look like he spent a lot of time frowning.

  “Miss Reynoso, I presume? Sven Jorgensen. I’ve been looking forward to reading your reports. Nice to finally make your acquaintance.”

  Good manners forced her to take the hand in a perfunctory shake. She noted that Jake’s hand remained at his side.

  Sven Jorgensen was one of those people who made Paige want to erect a glass wall for protection. His leer was unmannerly and annoying. His leisurely perusal of her body was thorough and demeaning. She wanted to make a nasty retort, but Jake’s hand on her arm stilled her, so she said nothing, waiting for the second man to step out of the shadows. He stood bac
k.

  “Why don’t we take our seats,” said Sven, his oily voice making Paige shudder. “Oh, yes. My new partner. Come have a seat and greet our colleagues,” said Sven. He opened a door at the far end of the room and a man strolled through.

  Paige gasped and grabbed the back of the chair, looking first at Jake, then back at the man walking slowly toward them.

  “Hello, kid.” John Sims stood behind a chair, his eyes never making contact. “I guess you’re surprised to see me.”

  “I don’t understand. What are you doing here? Did he say you’re his business partner?”

  John finally looked up. “It’s not hard to grasp, Paige. I’ve had an offer to invest in the world-class resort Jorgensen’s going to build in the Napa Valley. It will be on my acreage. The deal was contingent on getting Madison’s acreage, too. I told you I had a deal brewing.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It couldn’t be John standing in front of her, the man she considered a good friend, the man Sarah thought was in love with her. Build a hotel? That was laughable. Nobody ripped out prime grapes to build a hotel. Not in Napa. There was even a law being considered to prevent it.

  Her knuckles turned white as she curled her fingers around the hard wood of the chair. “You’re crazy if you think you can build a hotel there. You’ll never get the permits.” She schooled her voice to an even tone, trying to let logic take over. She heard a chair scrape and saw Jake get to his feet.

  “I know it takes time to go through the process,” said John. “But it can be done if you’re patient.”

  He looked down at his hands and turned them over, as if he was afraid to face her. “I know how much the place means to you, Paige. I know you won’t want to abandon it. Think of your ancestors…how proud they’d be. Maybe Sven, here, would give you a piece of the action.”

  For a moment she thought she might explode, and she had to hold her breath to control the howl that teetered on the edge of her lips. Then she lost it. She slammed the thick folder down on the table and took three long strides around it to stand directly in front of John.

  “You want me to stay on, is that right?” She stood toe to toe, looking directly in his eyes. “The land of my ancestors means so much to me that you think you can buy my loyalties while you team up with this jerk and eventually take it away from me?”

  Heat stained her cheeks, and her voice took on a harsh, strident tone. But she didn’t care. She shoved at John. “You are pathetic.”

  She felt Jake’s hand on her arm. “Come on, Paige.”

  She shrugged it off and moved toward the windows, fighting for control. Angry words filled the air behind her.

  “Madison doesn’t have to sell. He can hang on to the property, and my colleague will merely take charge of this company until he can dispose of its assets. So don’t blame me. It’s his fault. Your…your lover!”

  She turned back and nearly spat out the words. “How dare you!”

  “Hold on now, you two.” Sven slunk to the head of the table, pulled out a chair, and poured himself a glass of water. “John’s right. You don’t have to sell, Madison. I’ll keep my Pantheon stock, start dismantling the company, and you can go back to your little love nest in Napa.”

  A chill settled over the room, emanating from Jake, who looked as if he’d turned into a block of ice.

  “I thought we were going to have a negotiation, Sven. I own other properties that might be of more interest to you, if you want to build a hotel…certainly more valuable. I have a piece of land in Aspen…”

  “I want this one, Jake. I don’t want any of your other properties. This one is the only one worth my stock. So what will it be? Yes or no?”

  Jake pulled out the chair and sat down, a twitch in his left cheek the only reminder of his agitation.

  Paige remembered the night he’d talked about the people who worked at Pantheon and Madison, their families, and the important work they did. She swallowed convulsively and stalked back to the table. Putting her hand on Jake’s shoulder, she looked into his eyes. “Give it to him, Jake. Your work, your people, are far more important than a few acres of dirt. Let’s get this over with.”

  He stared hard at Paige, then turned his gaze on Sven, his jaw clenched. “Give me the letter of intent. I’ll sign Garnet Hill over to you,” he said. “Our attorneys can figure out the details. Then I’ll say this once only. Never cross my path again. Never.”

  The silence was almost palpable. Only the sounds of breathing disturbed the air circulating in the room. Jorgensen signed the papers and moved the set of documents over to Jake who signed them without looking up. Paige and John were still standing on opposite sides of the table, transfixed by the actions taking place.

  Jake stood abruptly, gathering up his copies and stuffing them back into a folder he had brought. He slid Paige’s reports across the table.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  He strode to the door and held it open, beckoning to Paige to come with him. Breaking the spell that had held her during the signing, she scooped up her bag, squared her shoulders, and walked swiftly through the door.

  …

  Jake scanned the parking lot for the car and signaled to the driver they were ready to go. Standing next to Paige, he marshaled his thoughts. Simms was right. He could have walked away from the deal, abandoning Pantheon to Jorgensen’s infamous cannibalizing strategies. His conscience wouldn’t allow that. Even for Paige.

  When he remembered the look on her face as she confronted John, he shuddered, knowing that he might be the recipient of such a look in the next hour. She meant everything to him. But he had to push her away. And unless he told her why, she would never understand. Maybe not even then, but he realized he had to try. She deserved that much.

  He opened the car door for her. Getting in on the other side, he told the driver to head for a park near the river. Neither spoke, the hum of the engine the only audible sound. When the car stopped, Jake got out, took off his suit coat, loosened his tie and threw both on the seat.

  “Are you coming?”

  “Where are we?” asked Paige. She sounded tired and uninterested.

  “At the Schuylkill River. There’s a nice overlook over there. I thought we could use the fresh air to clear our heads.”

  She put one foot on the ground, then the other, her shoulders slumped, her face expressionless. Her braid was starting to come unpinned from the top of her head, so she shook it out and let it hang down her back. She looked completely defeated. He remembered her animation during their early talks about the vineyard, and her drive and energy on the night of the harvest, trying to beat the rain. Every memory was a jewel he would take out and examine in the dead of night, to be carefully tucked away in the dark recesses of his brain.

  “What did Sims mean when he talked about your ancestors?” Paige had never mentioned anything about her heritage, except that her mother’s family had lived in the valley a long time.

  “My mother’s ancestors were the first owners of the land in the Mexican period. One wall of their original house is still standing. The oldest grapevines were planted by my great-great-grandfather.”

  He stopped walking. “Now I feel ten times worse. I wish you’d told me.”

  “Why? It wouldn’t have changed the outcome.”

  She sounded defeated. He’d never seen her this way. But he knew it was going to get worse.

  Sitting on a bench, they watched the flowing water. Two fishermen rowed by, dipping their oars in and out of the water in a rhythmic pattern, lines dangling over the side. A bird with an orange chest flew in and out of a tree next to their bench. A small plane droned overhead. It promised to be a peaceful evening after a tumultuous afternoon.

  “What I don’t understand is why I had to be here to witness this.” Her voice was low and shaky, her eyes transfixed by the ripples of water.

  “Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “They wanted me to see your suffering. They
wanted to make sure that you understood that I was the bad guy in this deal. They wanted to make you hate me.”

  “Why would they do that? I mean, what possible difference does it make?”

  “Because…because they know…they sense…that I care about you.” He wished he could say the word love, but he couldn’t. At least she would know she was important to him, even if he couldn’t offer her either of the things he knew she wanted—her vineyard or himself.

  “Do you?” She tilted her head and looked at him, her brows furrowed, her eyes disbelieving.

  “Yes…I do.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Port is a sweet, smooth after-dinner wine that improves with age. Drink it after a hearty meal; or if you’ve had a bad day, try it with a big bar of chocolate.”

  —from Paige Reynoso’s tasting notes

  The declaration should have swelled her heart. But it didn’t. She’d been hurt today—badly. And she was wary, like a starving cat wanting the bowl of cream but afraid of the hand holding it. Jake had just signed away the one thing that gave her life value.

  She couldn’t take another blow.

  “You’re quiet.”

  “I don’t know what to say. You tell me you care, and yet you’ve made it clear we can’t be together. I sense there’s more you’re not saying, but you don’t owe me any explanations, Jake. Just don’t say any more. Not today.”

  He’d said care. Not love. She couldn’t make more of this.

  Her words were harsh, but emotion drifted away in the breeze. Nothing was left. She was empty, spent, numb. She focused on the grass beneath her feet. A tiny black bug was making his way over the blades, parting them like waves as he headed under the bench. The urge to stomp him overwhelmed her, but why take her frustrations out on a bug? None of this was his fault.

  A jubilant shout pierced the quiet. It came from the boat as a small fish was pulled from the water, its scales gleaming in the afternoon sun. Her throat was tight with unshed tears, and she had difficulty breathing. The fishermen unhooked the fish and threw it back in the water. She let out a rush of air and shoved a knuckle into her mouth.