Love On The Vine

by Sally Clements

  “I also.” Etienne slathered butter on his croissant. “One of the party guests phoned—a large distributor, and he wants a private meeting today and a pre-launch tasting.” He bit in, chewed, and then washed down the pastry with a mouthful of coffee. “If he likes the wine, he’ll place an order.”

  An order? Bella’s eyes widened. “A big one?”

  “A very big one.”

  His huge, carefree grin stole Bella’s breath. Her heart lightened in happiness. She trailed fingers down his cheek and over his jaw, feeling the morning stubble which lent a dangerous, piratical look to his face.

  “I like your stubble.” Heck, she liked everything. Even the prickle of stubble against her face as they kissed.

  ****

  This meeting was important. The most important so far for the St. Clair Durand winery. Etienne looked the part of a dynamic, winery owner in a dark Parisian suit, snowy white shirt, and green paisley print tie. But despite the seriousness of the occasion, his mind wandered back to Bella with disturbing regularity.

  Mark Walker spat the mouthful of wine he’d been swirling around his mouth into the container provided, and dabbed at his lips with a linen napkin. “Bravo.” He reached out a large hand to grasp Etienne’s and pumped it vigorously. “I haven’t tasted such a good vintage from your winery since the ’92. To be honest, I wasn’t holding out much hope on this morning’s visit—the subsequent years have produced indifferent vintages. But this one...” He poured another inch into his wineglass and drank it slowly. He licked his lips and tilted the wineglass up to the light. “This is just divine.”

  The weight of so many months striving for perfection eased with the buyer’s stamp of approval. “Shall we go inside and talk numbers?” Etienne asked.

  Mark Walker placed his empty glass on the table. “I want my contract signed before everyone else gets a taste of this. And I can tell you now, by the end of the evening you’ll be sold out.”

  Thirty minutes later, Etienne walked Mark to his car and waved him off then strode into the kitchen. A signed contract nestled in his pocket, with a promise of more to follow. Electricity buzzed through him with the need to share the news. “Margaret, can I talk to you for a moment?”

  Margaret pulled her hands from the sudsy water in the sink, and dried them on a tea towel. “Is everything okay?”

  A spider-web of wrinkles fanned out from the edges of eyes filled with worry. In the many years since she’d worked at the vineyard, she must have seen buyers come and go, not always with a positive outcome.

  She stepped forward, and winced.

  “Everything is more than okay.” Etienne pulled out a chair. “I just wanted you to be the first to know. Mark Walker has signed an order.”

  “Oh, wonderful!” Margaret’s voice rose. “They haven’t bought from us for years! I was so worried.” She slanted him a glance, and then blushed. “Not that I didn’t have faith in your abilities, Mr. Delon, but their standards are so high...” Her hands fluttered on her lap. “Oh, I’m so delighted. I’m shaking!”

  “Sit down, Margaret.” Etienne eased her into the chair. “Take a few moments.” Margaret was always on her feet, and the telling flicker of pain that had passed over her face the moment her foot connected with the ground couldn’t be ignored.

  She might consider him impertinent and might be offended. But Margaret would be looked after—whether she liked it or not. “Margaret, your hip is hurting you, I think.”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened.

  Etienne kept talking before she had a chance to butt in. “Bella told me you suffer from arthritis, and have physiotherapy at the hospital?”

  Margaret’s head bobbed up and down. “But I haven’t been for a while.” She avoided his gaze. “What with one thing and another, I’ve been rushed off my feet.”

  The vineyard came with a lot of responsibilities. And Etienne was heir to them all. Château, vineyard, Margaret. The thought filled him with warmth. “Call the hospital and make an appointment. I can take you.” Etienne pictured the warm smile on Bella’s lips as he pushed open the kitchen door. ”I’m going to call my father.” He wanted to see Bella. But she’d told him she had some loose ends to tie up before the launch, and couldn’t meet him this evening.

  Etienne walked into the custom-built library and sank into the heavy old leather chair he’d shipped from France. All of his plans were coming to fruition, and his mind sparked with plans for the future. He would have the successful vineyard he’d always dreamed of. Other like-minded individuals who, in time, may become trusted friends. And Bella. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest at the thought of the woman who’d come to mean so much. With lightness in his heart, he picked up the phone and placed a call to Provence.

  “Hello.”

  Etienne’s chest tightened at the sound of his brother’s voice. They hadn’t spoken since he’d warned Vincent that he couldn’t trust Elise. No one wanted to hear that of their fiancée, especially if it was the truth.

  “Vincent. It’s me.”

  “Etienne.”

  Silence bled through the line, broken eventually by his brother’s harsh laugh.

  “Did you hear the news already?” Before Etienne had a chance to reply, Vincent answered his own question. “Of course not. How could you?” His voice lowered to a rasp, “I’m sorry for our argument, mon frère, I should have listened. Last week, I introduced Elise to a wealthy friend from Paris. And today, she broke off our engagement—the better to hook a bigger fish.”

  Etienne closed his eyes tight, feeling his brother’s pain. “I’m sorry,” he ground out. The insignificant words were all he had to offer. No-one deserved to be taken for a ride, and callous Elise had effortlessly crushed both Durand brothers’ dreams.

  “Tell me some good news,” Vincent urged.

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling...” As Etienne filled in Vincent on the news of the vintage’s success, a realization settled deep in his heart. He’d thought himself in love with Elise, but no-one had ever touched his heart like Bella. And after they’d made love, the truth had hit him with such force, his mind still reeled from the impact.

  His feelings for Bella were far deeper than desire. As he’d kissed away her tears, he’d vowed silently never to make her cry again. Never to disappoint her, or cause her even a moment’s pain. Even though he’d always thought the vineyard came first, as he’d walked her to her car that morning, the plain truth had resonated in his core. His priorities had irrevocably shifted. Bella owned his heart. And tomorrow he would tell her.

  Chapter Eight

  The château buzzed with activity. Electricians strung fairy lights around the patio area. A team of burly workmen dragged six substantial half-height, white ionic columns onto the patio, ready to receive the floral arrangements from Blooms.

  Bella brushed her hair back from her face and consulted her checklist. “Can you bring that over here?” she said to a man with a crate of glasses, pointing at the floor by the wine tasting table. She spread the white linen tablecloth carefully, and unpacked the glasses onto it. Lights, columns, candles. The large box of thick church candles would be next.

  Etienne had been absent since lunch, but she knew he was busy in the cave organizing the wine. Satisfaction bloomed in her chest as she glanced around. Everything was coming together. In an hour or two, the food would arrive, and the musicians, and then, at six, the guests.

  She’d brought a long dress in forest-green silk and matching high heels from home. Not a new one, but Etienne had never seen her in it. The green matched her eyes, and she knew the garment suited her. There’d be no time before the party kicked off for a long pampering bath, just a quick shower, and the dress hung ready on the wardrobe door.

  Her nerves had been on edge with the importance of this evening. Not only to Etienne, but also to Celebrate. Everything must be perfect, and she hadn’t caught much sleep last night fretting over the details. Tapping her foot, Bella glanced at her watch. The cate
rers should be here soon, and the wait staff. With quick moves, she unpacked the candles and put them in place.

  Krista strode in from the conservatory. “The flowers are here.”

  “Krista—great!” Bella’s heels clicked on the polished floor as she strode over. “Let me show you where we’re putting them. Then I’ll help you carry from the van.”

  With Krista and Donna arranging the flowers, Bella pushed back the sleeve of her sky blue shirt to check her watch for the second time in as many minutes. The caterers should be here. She pulled out her cell phone and punched in the familiar number. “Carlos? It’s Bella St. Clair. Is the van on the way?” Despite her efforts, she heard the edge of panic in her voice.

  The caterers were way across town and rush hour approached. If they hadn’t set out yet...

  “I’m sorry, Bella,” Carlos said. “There’s a problem.”

  “What do you mean, there’s a problem?” Bella’s voice rose.

  “It’s the van.” Carlos’s voice trembled. “We’re still waiting for it to come back from a party we catered this afternoon at your father’s house.”

  “What?” Carlos’s words made no sense. She knew nothing about a party. An ache bloomed at Bella’s temples and she absentmindedly rubbed her forehead. That question didn’t matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was that Etienne’s launch should go off without a hitch. She pushed a hank of hair behind her ear. “Is the food ready to go?” They’d need something a lot bigger than her jeep to transport the food, something refrigerated... Bella’s head spun with details.

  “We have it all packed. We’re just waiting for the van. I’ve contacted the driver and he said they have three flat tires. A mechanic is on the way there now.”

  Three flat tires? Bella pushed back at the confusion that bloomed at Carlos’s words. She couldn’t consider it now. Time was leaching away, she had to focus on finding a solution. An idea took shape as she glanced out the front door. Quickly, she slung her bag over her shoulder, and bolted for the door. “I’ll be there in half an hour. I’ll collect the food.”

  Krista and Donna were loading offcuts of oasis and floral tape and a bag of ivy they hadn’t used into the large refrigerated van with Blooms expertly painted on the side.

  “Hold up.” Bella ran out after them, her fingers crossed so tight she felt them burn and sting. “I need a favor.”

  ****

  Etienne never dreamed the château could look like this. Lights strung over the patio transformed the area into an intimate outdoor room, and urns filled with flower arrangements with centerpieces of grapes were dramatic additions that looked as though they had always been there.

  “The musicians are here, Etienne.” Margaret trotted over, followed by a group of five carrying instruments.

  Etienne scanned the room for Bella. She must be upstairs, getting ready. He waved at the dais set up underneath the trees. “Over here, gentlemen.”

  Margaret lingered at his side, wringing her hands.

  He stilled for a moment and took in every tiny detail. “Everything okay, Margaret?”

  Stress lines tugged at the edges of her mouth. Her gaze darted to the musicians then back to Etienne.

  A cold fist clutched at his insides, and a premonition of dread poured icy water down his spine. “Come. Sit for a moment.” He led Margaret to the gilt chairs edging the perimeter. “What is it?”

  “The food,” Margaret’s voice was no louder than a whisper. “It isn’t here yet.”

  Etienne’s shoulder muscles relaxed. He’d over-reacted. “Isn’t here?” The wait staff had arrived. Their van was parked around the back, he’d passed it on the way in from the cave and had presumed they were in the kitchen getting everything ready. The party would start in less than an hour. “Where’s Bella?”

  “She left,” Margaret said. “The electricians said she left.”

  “She left?” Disquiet niggled at Etienne again. “Without talking to you?” If Bella had to go somewhere, surely she would have told Margaret.

  “She didn’t even take her car,” Margaret’s voice shook. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Okay, Margaret. I’ll get on it.” Etienne didn’t even know the catering company’s number, all those details had been left to Bella. He strode into the library and closed the door firmly behind him. Then he dialed her number.

  ****

  In the caterer’s kitchen, Bella and Carlos examined the boxes of entrées. “I’m so sorry, Bella,” Wild eyed, Carlos ran a hand through his hair. “The van tires were slashed and once we’d replaced them, we discovered the engine problem. The van’s still outside your father’s house with the mechanic working on it.”

  The poor man looked frantic. Bella patted his arm. “Blooms refrigerated van has shelves. Let’s just get everything loaded,” Bella said as she slid a tray in place. They’d be late. And she wouldn’t have time to change, but she’d get everything there. She had to. Thank goodness Donna agreed to help. If not for the girls at Blooms, the entire evening would have been ruined.

  Three slashed tires and an immobilized engine didn’t happen by accident. The van had definitely been sabotaged.

  On parting from her father in the café, he’d hissed a warning. “If Durand has any success, it’s because he stole it from me.” His face reddened in anger. “They bought me out for a pittance. I won’t stand by and watch him lording it over me.”

  Pain and sadness at her father’s vitriol had washed over Bella like a rogue wave. “He just wants to continue Grandfather’s legacy,” she explained. “He’s worked hard, Dad. Can’t you at least acknowledge that?”

  Her father’s lip jutted out in a pout. “He should make me a settlement. The vineyard is worth much more now than he paid for it. A decent man would make up the difference.”

  Disbelief washed over her thoughts and Bella stared at her father. “You’re delusional.” Greed had pushed her father totally over the edge into fantasy. He’d disregarded her warnings he could be sued for slander, and stubbornly held his position. Her family would never accept the man she loved. Even if by some miracle he loved her back. And now, her father had decided to ruin the launch.

  A shiver ran up Bella’s spine as she wondered what other disasters he’d started into motion. She secured the van’s back door, and climbed into the long front seat next to Krista and Donna.

  Etienne would have to greet the guests without her—she’d be there in time for the dancing. As the van edged into the heavy traffic snaking down the highway, worry gnawed at her gut. At least, she hoped she would.

  ****

  Her damned dress hanging on the wardrobe door taunted Etienne as he dressed. He’d rung her repeatedly, but Bella hadn’t answered her cell, and she’d left no note, no trace of where she’d gone. With time running out, he had no option but to dress and get ready to greet his guests. Where the hell was she?

  The lack of food was a speed bump. Nothing more. But the lack of Bella... Sharp nerves stabbed in his stomach. He felt torn between the urge to go out and search for her and the need to stay and greet his guests.

  His tie hung around his neck in a tangled mess. Etienne forced himself to calm down. He stared into the mirror and grimaced. His face looked like a man in turmoil. Definitely not the image he had hoped to project this evening. He pushed his hair back from his face, took a deep, steadying breath, and reached for the tie again. His whole life had been leading up to this moment. This evening meant so much to both of their businesses—she’d be here.

  Sue and Brad arrived first.

  “Come on through.” Etienne walked them from the front door to the conservatory.

  “This looks lovely.” Sue’s gaze swept the interior, glancing at the decorating details. “I’m glad we’re the first. I need to talk to you.” She stepped closer. “John St. Clair has been causing trouble again, I’m afraid.”

  “Tell me.” Etienne’s hands curled into fists. Was there no limit to the man’s meddling?

&nb
sp; “Well...you know about him bad-mouthing you?”

  He nodded, just once. His mouth felt tight as it thinned into a straight line. “Bella told me.”

  “He rang this morning and suggested we boycott the launch, on the grounds that you don’t deserve to become part of the community, because your family has shortchanged his.” Sue said in a low voice.

  The heat of anger surged through Etienne.

  “I told him where to stuff it.” She grasped Etienne’s hand and squeezed tightly. “I rang some of the other guests. He’d phoned them too.”

  Etienne’s jaw clenched so tight it ached. John St. Clair had crossed a line with this orchestrated campaign to discredit Etienne and the vineyard. Unfortunately, St. Clair knew everyone and still wielded influence in this town. People would believe his lies over the protestations of innocence from a stranger they barely knew. Sue’s touch on Etienne’s arm brought him back to the present.

  She leaned in. “They all told me he sounded mad. Completely delusional. The truth is out, Etienne, and John has lost all credibility. Everyone I spoke to told me they’d be here.”

  Anger dissipated replaced by concern. Etienne’s hand covered Sue’s. “Have you seen Bella today?”

  “Isn’t she here?” Eyes wide, Sue glanced around and then frowned.

  “We can’t find her. She’s not answering her phone.” Etienne pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the familiar number, groaning when it flicked to voicemail, again.

  The front doorbell pealed, and the butler he’d employed for the evening accompanied more people into the glittering glass room. Latin-jazz flooded into through the open doors.

  Etienne greeted his guests, and led them to the table where he pressed glasses of the new vintage into eager hands. Despite St. Clair’s machinations, all indications were that this evening would be a success.