“That’s complete crap. There are dozens of other wineries in the valley. Why them?”
“We have a long history. Think of it as my way of ending the feud.”
“It’s personal, then.”
“You know I don’t let business get personal.”
“Then how do you explain this?”
“Next to us, Marcelli is the biggest holding in the valley. They’re everything we’re not. Small, prestigious, almost a boutique winery. We’ll modernize, expand, make a real profit. It’s a smart move.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
That ten years ago when he’d told his grandfather he was in love with Brenna Marcelli, Emilio had been furious. The old man-his only living relative-had forced him to choose. Brenna or his heritage. Nic had chosen Brenna and she’d chosen her family.
Always one to keep his word, Emilio had thrown Nic out and made sure no winery on the West Coast would hire him. Nic had gone to France, where he’d been forced to work as a day laborer in the vineyards.
After a time Emilio had come looking for him. There’d been no one else to inherit Wild Sea. So Nic and his grandfather shared real estate but they’d never reconciled. Emilio had never forgiven Nic for choosing a Marcelli over family, and Nic…he’d learned his lesson. All that mattered was winning.
Maggie walked past him and out into the hall. Once there, she paused and glanced at him over her shoulder. “I don’t doubt that your plan will work perfectly. But let me ask you a question. What about Brenna’s loan? Say you buy Marcelli Wines. Do you call it in?”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t know.”
“I guess it depends on whether that would be an advantage to you or not.”
“Probably.”
She turned away. “You’re a really smart guy. It’s too bad you have to be such a bastard.”
6
“That’s terrific,” Brenna said, going for a calm, yes-this-is-a-great-deal-for-both-of-us voice when what she really wanted to do was jump up and down, screaming like a teenage girl at a boy-band concert.
“I’ll have a truck there as soon as you’re ready. Absolutely.” She grinned. “I’ll put you down as getting a couple of bottles when the wine is ready. Talk to you soon. Bye.”
She hung up the phone and slapped her hands on the kitchen table. “I love it when a plan comes together.”
Still grinning and bursting with happiness, she recorded the information in the small Palm Pilot she’d bought the day after Nic had told her she was getting the loan. Three nights of cramming on the impossibly small device had brought her up to speed. She quickly entered the details on the Chardonnay grapes she’d just purchased, then cross-referenced them with the information on the Voignier already on order.
Using the calculator function, she estimated tons per acre, based on what she knew about the vineyards in question. Going against conventional wisdom, and her grandfather’s opinion on the subject, she would be taking the first part of the pressing for her cuvee. She wanted her blend to be so spectacular that critics would weep and customers would buy by the case.
“In a perfect world,” she murmured, entering the rest of the information, including how much she’d paid, and tapped in a note on the calendar reminding her to check the status of her grapes in a couple of days. She glanced at her watch and saw she needed to get back to the winery before anyone noticed she was gone.
She was just turning off her Palm Pilot when the back door opened and Katie walked into the kitchen.
“There you are,” her oldest sister said. “Look what I found lurking by my doorstep this morning.”
Brenna laughed when she saw Mia, her youngest sister, burst into the kitchen. As usual the eighteen-year-old was wearing too much makeup, belly-revealing clothes, and a navel ring.
Brenna stood and held open her arms. “Welcome home, Baby Sister.”
“Brenna!”
Mia flew toward her. Brenna braced herself for impact, then staggered back anyway when Mia’s hearty embrace turned into a collision.
“D.C. was so incredibly cool,” Mia said, then kissed Brenna’s cheek and sighed. “I met two cute White House aides, and when I told them about my broken engagement, they were thrilled to help heal my broken heart. Ah, summer love. But now I’m here and it’s great to be home.”
Brenna released her sister and laughed. “When did your heart get broken?”
Mia sniffed. “When I ended my engagement.”
Brenna looked at Katie, who shook her head.
“I don’t think your heart was even slightly cracked, let alone broken,” Katie said.
Mia grinned. “The White House aides didn’t have to know that. Besides, I liked all the sympathy.”
“You would,” Brenna said as she studied her sister’s pretty face.
Like Francesca, Mia was a blend of the two sides of their family. Her eyes were light brown, and while her hair was darker than Katie’s, it wasn’t as dark as Brenna’s, even without the blond streaks she painted in every couple of months.
Mia was the shortest of the sisters, as curved as Brenna, but without her tendency to gain in the hips.
“You look good,” she told her. “Travel agrees with you.”
Mia smiled her thanks, then her expression turned serious. “How are you? Getting over Dr. Dick?”
Katie winced. “Mia, you have the worst mouth.”
“Oh, right. Because you never say anything bad. Jeff’s a jerk. Screw him.”
“Actually I don’t believe that’s my job anymore,” Brenna said with a grin. “Not that it was ever that exciting.”
Katie chuckled. Mia offered a high five, then headed for the refrigerator. “Where’s Mom and the Grands?”
“In Santa Barbara. It’s their monthly lunch-and-shopping day. They’re going to be furious when they find out you showed up today.”
“They’ll get over it,” Katie said dryly. “I could barely fit all her luggage in the car. I think she’s moving back home.”
“Am not.” Mia pulled mozzarella and fresh basil from the refrigerator. “I’m staying until school starts. But I had to bring all my clothes.”
“Of course,” Brenna said. “You might be invited to a cotillion, and then what would you wear?”
Mia stuck out her tongue. “I’m starved. Where are the tomatoes?”
Katie glanced at her watch. “I really need to head back to L.A. I have meetings this afternoon.”
Brenna pulled several tomatoes out of the pantry. “You think the brat is going to let you go?”
“She’s right,” Mia said. “Come on, Katie. You haven’t seen me in weeks. Don’t you want to hear all about my life in D.C.?”
“I heard plenty on the drive up.”
“Okay, but now you can listen to me tell Brenna. The stories are even more interesting the second time around.”
Katie slipped off her suit jacket and hung it over a chair. “Why did I even bother trying?” she asked, then picked up the kitchen phone and dialed.
While she explained that she wouldn’t be returning to the office, Brenna removed fresh bread from a wooden box on the counter. She pulled several knives out of the drawer and passed one to Mia.
“So what did you learn?” she asked as she began slicing tomatoes.
“Tons. Japanese is a really interesting language. Verbally I do great. I can speak and understand, although my accent sucks. But the written language is so tough. All those characters. I passed and everything, but I felt like a moron the whole time.”
Brenna put the tomatoes on a plate, alternating the thick slices with thin pieces of mozzarella Mia passed her way.
“She graduated top in her class,” Katie said as she hung up the phone.
