Humming “I’m a Little Teapot,” she left her office and walked down the corridor into his. The door was open and she entered without knocking.
“Hey, Grandpa,” she said, doing her best to sound upbeat and cheerful. Actually it wasn’t much of a stretch. “I have the new wine labels. You’re going to love them.”
Her grandfather’s response was a grunt. Not a very promising start, but she was determined to look on the bright side of things. She set the large pages in front of him.
“I explained what you liked and didn’t like about their previous work,” she said. “They went from there.”
“I don’t remember saying I liked anything,” he grumbled as he flipped through the designs.
Brenna ignored him and perched on the edge of his desk, which she knew he hated. “You adored at least two of them,” she said, carefully crossing her fingers behind her back to negate the potential cosmic effects of the lie.
He grunted again.
She grinned, then noticed how he was dressed. While her grandfather usually wore a long-sleeved shirt and the old man equivalent of Dockers, today he was in a suit and tie.
“Don’t you look spiffy,” she said. “What’s the special occasion? Did you and Grandma Tessa sneak away for a romantic lunch?”
“You’re in a good mood,” he complained.
“Actually it’s just my naturally sunny nature coming through. So did you go to lunch?”
“No. I met with some businessmen. They wanted to talk about buying the winery.”
It was like being by the ocean again. Brenna heard the sound of rushing water. The noise filled her head until it seemed to surround her. She was drowning. That had to be what was wrong.
The temperature in the room dropped to near freezing. She felt cold, then numb, then very, very sick.
No. No, this wasn’t happening. Selling? He couldn’t. She’d just survived the Joe crisis. This could not be happening.
She closed her eyes and accepted the truth. The winery was his. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.
She sucked in a breath, then pushed to her feet. Somehow she got out of the office, then she was running and running. Through the rows of bare vines, up over the slight hill at the edge of their property and across the fence lines. She ran until the pain in her side forced her to walk, and still she kept going. Her eyes burned from her tears, her chest ached. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but keep moving.
Some time later she saw a group of buildings and she headed for them. A voice in her head kept screaming “No!” as if by sheer force of will, she could make it not be true. She choked on her sobs. The unfairness of it all, the futility of her hopes and dreams, filled her with pain.
When she reached the building, she pushed through the unlocked door and into the office. It was the middle of the day, and several of the office staff were at their desks.
She felt their curious looks, heard the whispered questions. Should they stop her? Who was she? She ignored them all. Instead she walked faster until she reached the one door she sought and jerked it open.
Nic was on the phone. He looked up when she entered. His expression tightened with surprise.
“I’ll have to call you back,” he said and hung up. He was already on his feet.
“What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay? Was there an accident?”
She shook her head, but couldn’t catch her breath enough to speak. Tears poured down her cheeks.
He put an arm around her and helped her out of his office. They left the office building and headed for the house.
When she was settled on the living room sofa, with a glass of brandy, Nic crouched in front of her and took her free hand in his.
“What’s wrong?”
Her throat was so tight, she didn’t think it would be possible to speak, yet she did her best to force out the words.
“My grandfather is going to sell the winery.”
Nic had expected her to say that someone was dead. Maybe Joe or one of her grandmothers. Wide-eyed and shaking, Brenna looked as if she’d barely survived a car crash. He’d been so concerned about her, he’d momentarily forgotten about the meeting that morning.
“You don’t know for sure,” he told her.
She gave a strangled cry and tightened her grip on his hand. “He said he met with some men. He was all dressed up in a suit. Why would he have bothered if he wasn’t serious?” She gasped. “Joe. Joe told him that he wasn’t interested in the winery. He said if he inherited, he would just give it to me. That’s why my grandfather is doing this. Without Joe, there’s no male heir. He doesn’t have a choice.”
She was shaking so badly some of the brandy spilled on the floor. Nic grabbed the glass and set it on the end table, then sat next to her and pulled her close.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “You’ll see.”
“No,” she whispered. “It isn’t.”
She buried her face in his chest. Nic stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth. But even though his actions were gentle, his mind was racing. Was Brenna right? Would Lorenzo sell? As much as Nic had hoped and planned, he’d never been sure the old man would take the bait. Was everything he’d worked for finally within his grasp?
“Brenna,” he began, not sure what he was going to say. The truth? A part of the truth?
She raised her head. Pain filled her eyes. “It’s all going to change. Mia already figured that out. She had the four of us go to lunch because nothing was ever going to be the same again. We’re all changing. I’m going to lose the winery.”
Tell her now, he thought. Tell her the truth.
She sighed. “Oh, Nic, what would I have done without you? When I came to you for the loan, I really wanted to start my own label, but I don’t think I actually believed I would need to. I think deep inside I believed I would inherit. I figured he would make the four of us equal owners and that I would run things. I started Four Sisters to hedge my bets.” She blinked back tears. “Now that’s all I have. And it’s because of you. You were so generous and willing to take a chance on me. I really appreciate that.”
He was slime. “Brenna, it wasn’t like that.”
She gave a shaky smile. “It was exactly like that. Ten years ago I treated you horribly. I loved you, but I wasn’t willing to defy my family. But you forgave me.”
He didn’t know where she was going with this, but he had to stop her now before she said something they would both regret.
“You’re upset,” he told her. “You need to recover from the shock.”
“Do I? Or has the shock given me the courage to say what needs saying?” She leaned forward and kissed him. “I’ve always regretted not marrying you. I tried to love Jeff, but I couldn’t. That’s why I gave my life away—I felt guilty. I devoted my time to him because I couldn’t give him my heart. It belonged to you. It still does.”
This was not happening. Nic stood and paced to the window. He spun back to Brenna.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She shrugged. “I think I’ve always had lousy timing. This only proves it, huh?” She rose. “It’s okay, Nic. You don’t have to say anything back. I’m not expecting a declaration of your undying love and a proposal or anything.” She paused. “Well, it would be nice, but I understand a lot of things have changed. You may not feel the same way. I just wanted you to know. I still love you. I guess that gives you a win in all this.”
A win? The irony should have made him laugh, but instead he wanted to stop time and figure out how this had all gotten so screwed up. Brenna wasn’t supposed to love him. Not now. Not like this.
Not after what he’d done.
“Brenna, you don’t understand,” he said.
“Are you guys in here? Nic? Brenna?”
He swore in frustration.
“Mia?” Brenna called. “Is that you?”
Mia burst into the living room. “Brenna, are you okay? I saw you running through the vineyards. I thought maybe you’d finally gone over the deep end. I figured you’d come here, so I drove over. I went to the office first, but they told me you were in here.” She waved her right hand and he recognized his grandmother’s diary. “You’ll never guess what I found.”
Nic clenched his hands into fists. “Mia, this isn’t a really good time. Your sister and I—”
“Trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this. See, I’ve been translating the diary. When I got into it, I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I didn’t want to say anything until I reached the end. I wanted to be sure.”
Nic wanted to grab Mia by her shirt collar and propel her from the room. He needed time with Brenna to figure out what he was going to say to her. How he was going to explain the truth? But Mia wasn’t interested in anything but her news.
“It’s so amazing,” she said gleefully. She looked at Nic. “Hang on to to your privates, Nic. Grandpa Lorenzo was right all along. Salvatore Giovanni really did poison the Marcelli vines all those years ago—and you’ll never guess why.”
17
“What are you talking about?” Brenna asked. Her head was swimming. With all she’d already been through, she didn’t think there were more shocks to be had. Apparently she’d been wrong.
Mia pulled several folded sheets of paper out of her shorts back pocket. “Once I realized what was going on, I took notes. It’s so incredible.”
She plopped into a wing chair by the sofa and waved at the couch. “You guys want to take a load off while I read this or are you going to stay standing?”
Brenna pressed a hand to her stomach. She felt as if an entire platoon of butterflies was fighting it out in there. Her chest hurt, her eyes burned, and she couldn’t believe she’d just told Nic she loved him. Emotional meltdown, she told herself. She’d reacted to a horrific situation by spilling her guts. Unfortunately, she’d told him about the same time she’d figured it out for herself, so she hadn’t had a chance to get used to the information. Worse, he hadn’t reacted.
She eyed him now and saw him watching her. She was unable to read his expression or figure out what he was thinking. Obviously she’d shocked him with her confession, but had it been in a good way or a bad way? Did he want them to be alone so he could take her in his arms and tell her how much he’d always loved her, too, or did he just want to bolt for safety?
“Hello?” Mia said, sounding impatient. “Doesn’t this interest anyone but me?”
Brenna slowly sat on the sofa. Whatever she and Nic had to say to each other could wait. Great. In the space of an hour she’d found out that her grandfather really was selling the winery, and she’d handed her heart over to Nic without finding out how he felt about her. Somehow she doubted anything Mia had to say could even come close.
Nic crossed to the window and stared outside. “Go ahead,” he told Mia.
Mia shrugged. “Okay. So if you started translating at the beginning, you probably already know that Antonio and Sophia were in love. According to this, they had been for years. But there was a problem with Antonio’s family. It’s not clear what, but he wasn’t considered a desirable match for her. When he and Salvatore decided to start over in America, Sophia vowed to wait for her one true love. Heartfelt good-bye, etcetera. Flash forward six years. Sophia is still the beauty of the village, but she has refused every suitor. Her father grows impatient and begins to pressure her. She gets a letter from Antonio telling her that he and Salvatore are coming back to claim brides. The wineries are already starting to show a profit. By village standards he’s a rich man now, and he’s coming to get her.”