Heard It Through the Grapevine

by Pamela Browning

  On the way out of Walter’s office, he asked the receptionist to notify his father that he was on the way up to his suite in the same building.

  “Is there anyone else you’d like me to contact for you?” the woman asked.

  Josh immediately thought of Gina, but there was no time to talk with her now. He’d have to explain why he was in Boston, and he could think of no way to do it without discussing his mission to save Vineyard Oaks.

  “No one,” he said, and a bleak feeling settled over his heart. He didn’t like being a continent away from Gina. He was eager to get back to her. But that would have to wait for now.

  He squared his shoulders and went to plead Vineyard Oaks’ case with his father.

  “GAYLE CAME INTO THE BOOTERY this morning,” Shelley told Gina on the phone on Friday.

  “And let me guess, she mentioned that I haven’t heard from Josh lately.” Gina was feeding Timothy, who was meowing as he twined between her ankles. She spooned canned food into his dish, and he started to purr.

  “How did you know?” Shelley sounded perplexed.

  “Oh, my mother told her sister-in-law, and Aunt Gayle mentioned it to Barbara, and this morning a woman I’ve never seen before in my life—I think she’s a friend of my second cousin twice removed—asked me if I really expected Josh to show up at the party.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Gina expelled a huge sigh. “I wish.”

  “Of course he’ll show up. You were planning it before he left.”

  “He’ll be there.”

  “Rocco said—”

  “Please, Shelley, spare me from what Rocco said. It was probably something I wouldn’t want to hear, like if Josh doesn’t show, Rocco intends to kick him in some tender part of his anatomy.”

  “Can you blame him? Rocco loves you like a sister.”

  Gina washed off the cat food fork in the sink. “He should stop messing around in my life and look after his own.”

  “What does that mean?” Shelley might be on the defensive, as evidenced by her tone.

  “Oh, never mind. How is it going between the two of you?”

  “Great, except he won’t let Frankie play in the band. We argue about it.”

  “I was going to talk to Rocco. I got caught up in preparations for the party and it slipped my mind. Maybe I can bring it up on Sunday.”

  “At the party? That might be a good time.”

  “All right, that’s what I’ll do.”

  “Gina, I’ve got to run. Tomorrow’s Saturday and I’m putting out stock for our big sale.”

  “Bye, Shelley. I hope it’s a good one.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you Sunday at the winery.”

  Gina stared at the phone for a long moment after they hung up.

  “Do you suppose these people are onto something? Is Josh going to skip his own birthday party?”

  Timothy only blinked at her and went to wash his paws at the window. Gina considered calling Judy Rae to ask if she’d heard when Josh would return but decided against it when she realized that it might make her seem too needy.

  She missed Josh, that was all. And she was puzzled because she hadn’t heard from him for five days.

  “ALL RIGHT, I UNDERSTAND THAT you think it would be to Starling’s advantage to keep the winery in private hands, but what’s your personal involvement with these people? Gina Angelini is the girl you dumped on the TV show, so why are you hanging out with her in the Napa Valley?” Josh’s father studied him over lunch at his club. Three days had passed since Josh had given Ethan Corbett a copy of the proposal he’d shown Walter.

  Josh should have expected that his father would cut to the heart of the situation in one fell swoop. “I’m crazy about her, Dad. I want you to meet her.”

  Ethan’s eyebrows flew up into his hairline. “I’d say that I met her along with millions of viewers all over the world. She’s pretty, she seems like a nice person and most of us couldn’t figure out why you chose Tahoma, instead. I want to know what’s between you, that’s all. If anything.”

  “We’ve been seeing each other. I’d like to escalate the relationship. That doesn’t have anything to do with why I think Starling should pump money into the family’s winery, though. My plan makes more sense than buying the place, that’s all.”

  “And I’m to believe that this plea has nothing to do with saving the winery for the Angelinis? Give me a break, son.”

  Josh fixed his father with a no-nonsense stare. “I have the utmost confidence in Fredo Angelini. He’s got a good work-force, an eye for detail and determination to make the best wine in the world. All he needs is money for new equipment. After he gets that, he’ll plant more vines, hire more help and ship more wine. I’m sure of it.”

  “We sent you out there to look the place over along with others and to give us your recommendation about where to buy. Now you’re saying not to buy, to become a silent partner with these people. That would take a huge leap of faith on our part.”

  “You trusted me enough to send me to the Napa Valley in the first place. You can trust me now. I know the Angelinis. My way is better. You’ll see. You won’t be disappointed.”

  His father took a sip of his martini and looked thoughtful. “You’ve never disappointed me yet, son. Can you make a presentation tomorrow to the board of directors? Several are flying in from Europe for the meeting, and it would be the ideal time.”

  “Tell me how long I have to persuade them and I’ll be ready.” He’d been agitated and worried ever since he’d given Ethan the proposal, but Ethan was not to be rushed. Josh hadn’t dared talk to Gina, and he missed her intensely. But if making a presentation to the board of directors was his only chance to argue his case, he’d take it.

  “You can have two hours, maybe longer if we can bump some of our other business to next month.”

  “Great, Dad. I appreciate this.” Despite his fatigue, he felt jubilant and optimistic for the first time since he’d talked with Walter. He pushed his chair back.

  “Aren’t you going to stay for lunch?”

  “No, I have to work on the presentation. I’ll need charts, handouts, all that sort of thing.”

  “You’re really doing this for Gina, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right. And for her family. They don’t deserve to lose what they’ve built up over generations. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hurried away, already configuring a flow chart in his head.

  “Damn! It must be love,” his father muttered so that Josh almost didn’t catch the remark.

  Josh turned and walked a few steps backward. “It is,” he said with a grin. “And it feels great.”

  Ethan Corbett shook his head. “What I wouldn’t give to be young again,” he said, but there was a smile on his lips.

  Josh headed back toward his hotel. It was Thursday afternoon, and Gina would be eating lunch at Good Thymes, perhaps dusting the shelves or puttering around the back room. He’d call her tonight after she closed the shop, check with her to make sure everything was okay.

  But he didn’t. Because of the different time zones, he was ready to crash and get some well-deserved rest before she closed up. And when he woke at four the next morning to resume work on his presentation, it was one o’clock in the morning in California. He wouldn’t feel comfortable phoning her at that hour knowing that she had to get up early to work in her garden.

  Thank goodness the driver from Vargas Aviation had given her his hastily scribbled note telling her he’d be back by Sunday.

  ON SATURDAY, MAREN ARRIVED at Good Thymes to sub for Gina while she made her run to the coast for fresh mussels.

  “Has Josh come back from San Francisco?” Maren asked casually as they were saying goodbye.

  “No, I haven’t heard from him.”

  “You haven’t?” Maren seemed surprised.

  “Not since before he left.”

  “Hmm,” Maren said as Gina turned to leave.

  On the way to her car, Gina brushed th
e bits of lavender off her sweater before stopping to check the water level of the birdbath. Blown against the ornate base was a scrap of paper, and thinking that it might be one of the kids’ homework assignments, she bent to pick it up. When she saw the logo across the top that read Vargas Aviation, she crumpled the paper and tossed it in a nearby trash can, sure that it had nothing to do with her.

  “BUT, AUNT GINA, WHAT IF Josh isn’t here for his own birthday party?” Mia asked querulously. She’d been cranky all day, and Gina had regretted taking the child with her on her shopping trip to the coast. They were in Gina’s apartment now, having iced the mussels down in the refrigerator, and Mia was supposed to be making name tags for the many guests that Gina had invited.

  “Josh will be here,” Gina repeated firmly. She’d been telling herself the same thing all day, and her patience with other people’s questions was beginning to wear thin. Josh wouldn’t miss this. She was positive of that.

  “I made him a name tag. He’d better show up.”

  Gina bent over the table to inspect Mia’s handiwork. “The name tags look great. Now, how about if you brush your teeth and get ready for bed? You can sleep with me in my big bed tonight.” Usually, when Mia stayed over, she occupied the pull-out couch in the living room.

  “Oh, wow! Can we watch some television together?” Mia scrambled down from her chair.

  “For a little while,” Gina said. Judging from past experience, Mia would fall asleep before the first commercial of any program they turned on.

  Gina put the name tags in a big box and set it by the door to take to the winery when she went there tomorrow to decorate. When she got in bed beside Mia, her niece had tuned the TV to some inane sitcom and her eyes were already heavy-lidded.

  “Aunt Gina, your bed smells like Josh,” she murmured. “It’s nice.”

  Gina settled back on her pillows and flicked off the TV. She sat staring into the darkness, wondering where Josh was and why she hadn’t heard from him by now. She’d expected him back by today, even though they had made no plans for tonight.

  Soothed by Mia’s steady breathing beside her, she finally fell into an uneasy slumber where she dreamed, but not about Josh. The dream had something to do with winning a million dollars and losing it right away. In her dream, she looked for it all night, rushing from the castle at Dunsmoor to Rio Robles to Boston and points beyond, always accompanied by a host of faceless relatives who tried to help. Yet she never found the money, and when she woke up on Sunday morning, she was exhausted.

  The only thing that got her out of bed for church was Mia, looking bright-eyed and excited about the day’s events.

  “Today’s Josh’s birthday. He’ll be here, Aunt Gina,” Mia said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Of course I’m not worried,” Gina replied briskly as she tried to cover the dark circles under her eyes with concealer.

  They set off for church, and Gina braced herself for the questions after the service. No one had seen Josh in several days, and there were bound to be some.

  JOSH MADE THE TAXI DRIVER speed on the way to the private airport outside Boston where the Gulfstream jet was waiting to fly him back to California. It was six o’clock in the morning on the East Coast and he was exhausted, whipped, but he felt a sense of unparalleled elation when he considered what he’d accomplished. His machinations on behalf of the Angelinis had worked. Walter and the board of directors had resoundingly approved his plan for Starling Industries to become a silent partner in the Angelinis’ winery. Vineyard Oaks would enjoy a large influx of money, enough to do anything that Fredo deemed necessary. Starling would benefit, too, by establishing a presence in the Napa Valley that could be expanded upon in the future, and they would send their Australian executives there to train before moving them on to the recent acquisition in Chile. There were no losers in this deal, only winners.

  “Good morning, Mr. Corbett,” said the flight attendant when he boarded the plane. “Would you care for breakfast? We have your choice of eggs Benedict or sweet potato pancakes brought in from one of the finest restaurants in town.”

  “I’ll take the eggs,” he told her wearily as he flung himself down on one of the plush padded seats.

  She brought him the tray, complete with sterling silver, a snowy-white napkin and a full-blown rose in a silver vase. “I don’t suppose you’d care for company while you eat,” she suggested pertly.

  He eyed her with trepidation. “I don’t suppose I would. Thanks for the offer, but it’s been a long night.”

  “I understand,” she replied smoothly before wending her way between the row of seats to disappear behind a curtain.

  Once they reached cruising altitude, the hum of the jets soothed him so that by the time he’d devoured everything on the tray, he was ready to kick off his shoes and sleep. He couldn’t wait to see the expression on Gina’s face when he announced to her and her family that he was singlehandedly responsible for saving the winery.

  Maybe she’d be so grateful that she’d not only agree to visit Boston, but if he asked her to marry him, she’d say yes.

  He couldn’t think of any birthday present that he’d like better.

  GINA BLENDED THE INGREDIENTS of her mussel sauce and let them simmer while she loaded twenty loaves of fresh-baked bread into the trunk of the Galaxie. Maren was putting together hors d’oeuvres and salads at the big catering kitchen, and she would bring homemade tomato pasta to cook at the winery. Uncle Aldo had personally selected the wine from his private cellar, and Aunt Dede had promised to contribute a huge birthday cake. Josh’s birthday celebration had turned into a family event with everyone eager to help.

  Rocco phoned as she headed out the door. “Hey, Gina. You need any help taking things to the winery? I can drive over with you. Frankie’s riding his bike there early, so he won’t be going with us.”

  “Well, sure,” Gina told him. “I’ve already loaded the car. Are you ready?”

  “I’ll be right over,” Rocco said.

  He was there in less than five minutes. Gina, who had changed into a new silk shirt in robin’s-egg blue and a pair of equally elegant pants the color of smoke, was chucking odds and ends into a picnic basket.

  “Here, Rocco. You can carry this,” she said.

  She became aware that he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open when he didn’t immediately pick up the basket.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked testily.

  “Uh, you. I think.”

  This brought about a raise of her eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You look awful, Gina. What’s going on?”

  “Thanks, Rocco. I needed that.” She turned her back on him and tried to remember where she’d put her largest ladle.

  “You’ve got huge rings under your eyes and you’re pale as soggy pasta. Are you sick? Or—” he narrowed his eyes for a moment “—are you and Josh having problems?”

  “I can’t say we are,” Gina said tightly. The ladle was in a bottom drawer, she remembered suddenly. She found it and stood in time to see Rocco rolling his eyes.

  “All right, tell Cousin Rocco. There’s really something to the rumors I’ve heard, isn’t there?” He folded his arms over his broad chest and waited.

  “It depends what rumors you’re talking about,” Gina said wearily.

  “The ones that say you haven’t heard from Josh in a week and that he’s not coming to his own birthday bash.”

  “He’ll be there,” Gina said woodenly, as if by rote.

  “Who says?”

  “I say.”

  “You really haven’t heard from him?”

  “Not since he left for San Francisco. I don’t know what’s happened.”

  “Did you leave a message on his cell phone?”

  “A couple.”

  Rocco unfolded his arms, and his hands clenched at his sides. “Listen to me, Gina. If that guy hurts you again, if he upsets you in any way, I’ll take care of him.”

  “You lik
e him. He’s your friend and Frankie’s. Take the basket, Rocco. Let’s go.”

  “To a party where the guest of honor may not even show?” Rocco muttered.

  “He’ll show. Stop giving me a rough time.”

  “Wait until you see the rough time me and the guys will give that miserable jerk if he makes any problem. Any problem whatsoever, Gina.”

  “He’s not a jerk,” Gina replied. Yet her confidence in Josh was waning fast. Rocco picked up the basket and followed her down the stairs. He didn’t speak all the way to Vineyard Oaks, and neither did she.

  JOSH MANAGED TO CATCH SOME sleep during the flight to Rio Robles, and he shaved in the small lavatory on the plane before disembarking at the airport. When he got to his apartment, he realized that his birthday party had already started, but he took the time to change clothes anyway. Then he drove at breakneck speed to Vineyard Oaks.

  So many cars! He recognized Gina’s Galaxie parked right up close to the wine caves, and there was Maren’s small coupe. The van with the Dede’s Catering Service sign was parked beside it, and he spotted a red bike going hell-for-leather down the driveway, its rider pedaling head-down into the wind. The bike struck him as odd at this time, but he was intent on getting inside and seeing Gina again. He didn’t know exactly how he was going to let her and the others know about the sweet deal he’d finally worked out with Starling. He’d have to trust his instincts about the proper moment to reveal the good news.

  The door to the wine cave was open, and from within came the huffing of several accordions playing in concert. He paused in the doorway and took in the scene. The cave stretched back into a long tunnel lined with enormous wooden barrels stacked three high. It was cool inside, and the smell was earthy, pungent. Children were playing around the wine casks, and tables had been set up in a side room. The accordion band was arrayed along the side of the entry. Someone had strung up crepe-paper streamers in bright colors, and even from where he stood, he could see the huge birthday cake on its own table near the kitchen, which was built into the side of the tunnel.

  He spotted Barbara chatting earnestly with Maren, and Rocco and some of the guys were huddled over by the gated portion where the more expensive vintages were stored. Despite the sprightly music, he sensed right away that people here were not in a strictly celebratory mood. In fact, Fredo was downright somber. He saw no sign of Gina.