“Which sounds lovely and yay you, but why didn’t you tell me? I should have known that Avery had been told.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” His mouth twisted. “When my friend left, Avery confronted me. She was mad and crying and she wanted to go home. I talked to her for a couple of hours. I told her I was wrong and a fool. I said you’d given me several chances to shape up and I’d been too immature to recognize what I was going to lose. By the time we were done, she said she was fine and I believed her.”
He looked at her. “I didn’t tell you because it’s not behavior I’m proud of. I was ashamed and embarrassed. I really am sorry, Stephanie.”
“Me, too.”
“I should have said something.”
“Yes, you should have. Is there anything else I don’t know about my children?”
“No. That’s the only secret I’ve kept from you. I know you’re upset and I apologize for being responsible for that. I mean it, Steph.”
She wanted to throw something heavy at his head but knew that wouldn’t accomplish anything. “You were really stupid,” she told him.
“I was.”
“I’m getting the most expensive thing on the menu.”
“I would encourage that. And we’ll get a fancy bottle of champagne, if you’d like.”
“It has to be over two hundred dollars.”
“I’m sure they have that here. Are we okay?”
“I’m still upset. You pissed me off. We’re their parents, Kyle. We have to be on the same team or it’s not going to work.”
“I know. You’re right. I won’t do it again.”
She motioned to the server who was hovering outside of earshot, then pointed at her ex. “He’s going to order a nice bottle of champagne.”
Kyle quickly glanced through the wine list. “Dom Pérignon all right?”
“I guess,” she said with a mock sigh.
When they were alone again, Kyle looked at her. “How are things with your mom?”
“A nightmare. She’s ordered us all to not speak to Mackenzie.”
“You doing all right?”
“No, but I’ll figure it out. There’s so much change. It’s hard to take it all in.”
“Did Carson text you about his no-hitter yesterday?”
She smiled. “He actually called me and gave me an inning-by-inning recap of the game.”
“Our kids are pretty special.”
“You’re a good dad.” She paused. “Most of the time.”
He chuckled. “You’re a better mom.”
“That is true.” She smiled.
He leaned toward her. “Friends?”
“Yes. I forgive you.”
Instead of smiling, he nodded slowly. “You always were good that way, Steph. I should have appreciated it while I had it.”
* * *
Mackenzie spent the next week or so burying herself in paperwork, which was not her favorite. Bruno had rented them an office in town. They each had a desk and there was a large filing cabinet with an impressive lock. Every document was carefully put away before they left and the cabinet locked. Just in case. She didn’t think Barbara would send someone to break in and look at the paperwork, but why take the risk?
She’d already walked all the vineyards at Painted Moon. Most were in good shape. Parts of the irrigation system would have to be replaced in the next couple of years, but other than that, she was pleased with what she saw.
She still wasn’t sure what to do about the wine in the barrels. Once they completed the purchase, she would have to take a few weeks to taste everything and then start making notes and, from there, decisions. It would be time-consuming but it was the only way to get high-quality wines. She had to find a few really good barrels to serve as the base, then pick directions.
“You’re looking fierce,” Bruno said.
She looked up and smiled. “I’m thinking about the blending. It’s going to be a massive project. Until I know what’s in every barrel, I can’t start making decisions. Some of it will depend on what we want to do with the wine. We could just sell it as is and start over fresh.”
There was a market for barrels of wine, and Painted Moon wines would bring decent prices.
“Wouldn’t we make more if we got to the point of bottling it?” he asked. “I’m still working my contacts in China. They would like an exclusive vintage. We could move a few hundred cases there.”
“I’m not comfortable making that decision,” she said. “I don’t know enough about the cost-benefit ratio.”
“That’s why you have a business partner.”
Something she was still having trouble grasping. She and Bruno had come to terms and signed the paperwork. Barbara had taken care of any hesitation she might have had. Based on their last conversation, there was no going back to Bel Après. Not that she’d planned to. She couldn’t keep doing what she’d always done. Not anymore.
She liked Bruno’s calm nature. Whatever was happening, he listened, got all the facts and was reasonable in his decision making. There was no drama. Although the man still wore a tailored suit every day, she thought with a smile. He looked good in a suit, but still.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Are you going to wear a suit when we own Painted Moon?”
“What would you prefer?”
She rested her elbow on the desk and leaned her head on her hand. “Wineries aren’t corporate America and you’ll be going out into the vineyards with me, so it might be more practical to be a little more casual.”
“Jeans?”
“Do you own any?”
“I do.”
“Are they custom-made?”
He chuckled. “No. They’re store-bought.”
“Did you go to a mall yourself or did you send someone?”
He hesitated just long enough for her to start laughing. “You have staff that shops for you?”
“I might have sent an assistant out to buy some things for me.”
“That still counts as staff. This is a small town, Bruno. I’m going to have to teach you to shop. We’ll start at Walmart. You’ll be impressed.”
“I’ve been in a Walmart before.”
She raised her eyebrows and waited. He laughed.
“Okay, maybe not, but I own shares.”
“Are we going to have to hire you an assistant here?”
“I’m thinking an office manager is a better use of our funds.” He glanced down at his desk, then back at her. “We have confirmation of the water rights.”
“Do we? That’s huge.”
Water rights meant they were allowed to get their water directly from the source and weren’t dependent on any municipalities. In times of drought, the winery would have priority over limited supply. Just as important, she would be able to control the amount going to her vines. Depending on the time of year, the amount of sun and the temperature, water meant the difference between success and everything dying.
“We’re moving closer,” she said. “I’m nearly finished with my five-year projection.”
“Don’t worry about formatting. Just get the information down. We can clean it up later.”
He’d wanted her to develop a year-by-year projection of yields and the subsequent wines she would produce. They needed a master plan and targets along the way. She’d done similar work at Bel Après, but nothing this detailed. For every projection, Bruno estimated the profitability of each decision they made. Not every decision had to be made based on the bottom line, but some did.
“How’s it going with Barbara?” he asked.
The question surprised her. For the most part she and Bruno didn’t discuss anything personal.
“Not great,” she admitted.
Instead of responding, he waited, as if expecting her to say more.
“She’s not making it easy.”
“Did you expect her to?”
“No, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” She explained about the eviction. “Rhys says I can stay in the house for as long as I’d like, but that’s only a temporary solution. Plus I’m right there on the property, so I need to avoid Barbara as much as possible.” She gave him a faint smile. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“I doubt that.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised or even hurt. Of course Barbara isn’t happy with me. I should have seen that coming.”
“Do you think I’m judging you, Mackenzie? I’m not. In the past couple of months, you’ve made huge changes in your life. I’m impressed by your personal strength and character. You’re exactly who I want to go into business with. We’re going to be a very successful team.”
His kind words made her eyes burn.
“Thank you,” she said, then cleared her throat. “I like our partnership, too. You’re very steady and you know a lot. I like the lack of drama.”
“I’m not a screamer,” he teased.
“Good to know.” She smiled. “What does your family think of you settling here?”
“They’re used to me being on the West Coast. My mother complains that it’s all her fault.” He smiled. “When my parents divorced, my mom moved to Napa for a couple of years. My sisters couldn’t wait to leave, but I fell in love with the area. Eventually we returned to New York, but I came back as soon as I could.” He raised a shoulder. “I went to UC Berkeley, much to the chagrin of both my parents.”
“Your dad was in New York, too?”
“Yes, he was a hedge fund manager. He was killed on 9/11 when the towers came down.”
“What? No. Bruno, I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“It’s still not easy,” she said, thinking of her grandfather and how much she missed him, even now.
“It’s not,” he agreed. “My sisters and I inherited a fair amount from him. I also had a trust fund from my paternal grandparents. I learned how to take care of money and to grow it. Eventually that got boring, so I decided to pursue my interests.”
“Including wine?”
“Including that. My mother remarried and she’s happy with her new husband. I see her and my sisters every couple of years.”
She wanted to ask why he hadn’t remarried. He was a good-looking guy who was easy to be around. The kid thing might bother some women, but not others. Did he not want to try to meet someone? Didn’t he mind being alone?
Not that she would ask. It wasn’t really her business, nor did she want him asking the same questions of her. She couldn’t imagine going out with anyone ever. As for falling in love—she didn’t see that happening, either. She was good at her job and she planned for that to be her focus for the next few years. She just wished she could figure out a way not to feel so alone all the time. While the future was exciting, the price was high—the only family she’d ever known.
She knew she and Stephanie and Four would remain friends, but it wasn’t going to be the same. She wasn’t just losing proximity—she was losing all the little moments that made up the rhythm of her days. The quick hugs, the impromptu hanging out, the everyday things she had, until now, taken for granted.
Bruno glanced at his watch. “We should head over to meet the inspector at the house.” Bruno had insisted on having a home inspection on Herman’s old place, not that it mattered what kind of shape it was in. They would buy the property regardless. But it would affect the price a little bit and Bruno wanted Mackenzie to know what kind of situation she was getting into.
The hundred-plus-year-old house had been remodeled a few times. The main floor consisted of a living room, dining room, half bath and kitchen. Upstairs were two full baths and three bedrooms. There was a big porch out front and an even larger deck out back. The house sat on a rise, overlooking the property.
“I still feel guilty about you giving me the house,” she said.
“I told you, I don’t want to live there. It’s not my style. Besides, you’ll like being close to the grapes.”
She smiled. “That is my happy place. If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Thank you. It’s a little big for what I need.”
“You’ll want the space when your friends and family come to visit.”
“I’m not going to have family after the divorce,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound pathetic. “But my friends will come over and that will be fun.”
He looked at her. “Mackenzie, you have a lot of family. If you don’t think that, you’re underestimating yourself and them.”
eighteen
Barbara found solace in the barrel room. There was something about the space that was soothing on those days when everyone seemed to be on a mission to annoy her. Lately, that was every minute of every day.
She rested her palm on a new French oak barrel and breathed in the glorious scent. The tag stapled to the barrel detailed what was inside—the vineyard, date and other notes. She recognized Mackenzie’s handwriting. It was on every tag, on every barrel.
In the beginning, she and Mackenzie had tasted from each varietal, each vineyard every single year. Always together, walking through the barrel room, analyzing, discussing, keeping detailed notes. Later, when Mackenzie began blending, they did that together, as well, Mackenzie tasting everything and Barbara writing down her thoughts. Eventually, though, that had changed. Barbara had stopped going into the vineyards and Mackenzie had started managing the wine on her own. For the past few years, they’d had their defined areas of expertise—Mackenzie handled the winemaking, leaving the business end of things to Barbara.
When had everything changed, she wondered, still furious and at the same time incredibly sad. When had everything gotten out of hand? When had her trusted employee—someone she’d invited into her family—decided to stab her in the back?
She walked through the barrel room to where the wine was bottled. The equipment was silent now, but when it was ready, it would move the empty bottles along, applying labels and filling them, then pushing in the new corks and sealing the foil. The noise was incredible, the motors rumbling, the bottles clinking. And in the end...magic.
And it was all lost, she thought grimly. Destroyed by an ungrateful bitch who had decided to go out on her own. Barbara grimaced, again chastising herself for not taking care to have replacements waiting. There should have been two or three assistants ready to step in, but there weren’t.
She was going to have to fix that. Hire someone, but as soon as she started asking around, word would get out about what had happened. She’d been so careful to keep it all quiet—some because it was good business practice and some out of shame.
“Damn her,” she muttered, then pressed her lips together when she heard footsteps in the hallway.
Her level of irritation rose until she saw Giorgio walk into the bottling room. Instantly her breathing slowed and her anger faded as she rushed toward him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Did I know you were coming?”
He smiled and drew her against him. “I’ve been thinking about you, my love. I can’t think of anything else.” He pulled back just enough to stare into her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Sad,” she admitted. “Betrayed. Angry.”
“Of course. You have lost a piece of your heart.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t understand why Mackenzie is being so stubborn. You’ve offered her everything she wants, including a piece of the business. I was sure that would be enough to convince her to stay.”
Barbara ignored the sliver of guilt that stabbed her. Giorgio had done his best to convince her that she should give Mackenzie a small share of Bel Après. Barbara had promised to “think about it.” Obviously he’d assumed he’d chang
ed her mind, which he hadn’t. She would never give a single spoonful of soil to anyone who wasn’t family, especially not her soon-to-be-former daughter-in-law.
“She’s ungrateful,” Barbara said, avoiding the truth.
“I’m surprised.” He kissed her lips. “And disappointed. Perhaps I should go talk to her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said quickly, knowing she had to keep them apart. If Giorgio spoke with Mackenzie, he would find out Barbara hadn’t offered her anything but more pay.
His dark gaze met hers. “Are you sure? I’m very good at negotiating.”
She faked a smile. “Let’s give her time.”
“As always, you are right, my love. A few weeks away from all this will have her rethinking her stubbornness. I’m usually a good judge of character, but I was wrong about her. I thought she was reasonable.”
“I don’t think she ever was. We just didn’t see it. At least not until now. She left without a word, without hinting.” Real tears formed in her eyes.
He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back. “You deserve better. Whatever happens with Mackenzie, we’ll fix this.”
She tried not to stiffen at his words. There was no “us” fixing the problem, she thought. She loved Giorgio more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life, but even he wasn’t getting involved with Bel Après. That was for family only.
But then his mouth was on hers, and talking about the winery seemed less important. Later she would remind him about the prenup he’d signed and how she wanted him in her life, her heart and her bed, but not in Bel Après.
* * *
Mackenzie stared at the alert on her phone. The simple message, one she saw every single month, shouldn’t have upset her. It was a gentle reminder, a way of saving herself difficulties. It wasn’t supposed to make her stomach clench or her heart beat faster or her skin go cold. But it did.
Put on a pad. That was it. Four simple words. Put on a pad.
Depending on the time of year, much of her work was outdoors where she didn’t have easy access to a bathroom. Getting her period when she was out walking a fence line wasn’t convenient. So at six fifteen in the morning, once a month, her phone alerted her to put on a pad so that if her period started that day, she was ready.
The Vineyard at Painted Moon Page 19
