“Smart and beautiful,” Mia said with a wink. “Kinda makes you want to hate me, huh?”

“I find your modesty to be your real defining characteristic,” Brenna told her.

Katie opened the refrigerator and looked in several plastic containers. “Pasta salad, some kind of chicken dish.” She sniffed the leftovers. “Chicken Marsala, I think.”

“That’s it,” Brenna said. “We had it a couple of nights ago. I’d rather have pasta salad.”

“Me, too,” Mia said.

Mia finished with the cheese. After taking a bowl out of a cupboard, she collected olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and garlic to make a dressing. Brenna used kitchen scissors to cut up the basil.

“So what about this guy Francesca’s engaged to?” Mia asked. “I was barely gone for what, two months, and she’s getting married? And the whole pregnancy thing. I can’t believe she got pregnant.”

“I think Francesca is still getting used to that one, although she and Sam are both thrilled,” Katie said with a laugh.

“So does the thought of a new generation being born take the heat off you or make it worse?” Mia asked.

Katie shook her head. “I’ve already announced no babies for at least a year.”

Brenna laughed. “But they’re not listening.”

“Figures.” Mia wrinkled her nose. “So what’s Sam like?”

“I’d say the perfect man for our perfect sister. He also has a great daughter. Kelly. She’s twelve.” Brenna sprinkled the basil on the plate, then passed it to Mia.

“Since when did you have an interest in kids?” Mia asked.

“I always wanted them. Jeff was the one who said we had to wait. As much as I would like one now, I’m glad we didn’t have any. It would have made the divorce a lot more complicated.”

Mia poured the dressing over the cheese and tomatoes. While Brenna carried plates and flatware to the table, Katie set out a bowl of pasta salad, the bread, butter, and several kinds of sliced salami and ham. Mia slid the tomatoes and cheese plate into the center, then grabbed cans of soda for them.

“Looks good,” she said as she sat down. “I loved the restaurants in D.C., but after so long away, I’m ready for the Grands’ cooking.”

Brenna sat across from Mia. Katie sat at the head of the table. Mia used a fork to spear tomato and cheese onto her plate, then reached for the bread. “So what else has been happening while I was gone?”

Katie shot Brenna a “let me” look. “Not much. Well, except that it turns out that Brenna slept with Nic Giovanni and got a million-dollar loan from him to start her own winery.”

Mia froze in the act of biting into a piece of bread. Her eyes widened and the color fled her cheeks.

“Shut up!”

Katie made an X over her left breast. “Swear on Grandma Tessa’s rosary.”

Brenna spooned pasta salad onto her plate. “It was ten years ago.” She looked up and grinned. “The sex. The loan is recent. As wonderful as I may think I am in bed, I have to admit I doubt I’m worth a million bucks.”

“I don’t know what to ask about first,” Mia admitted when she’d chewed and swallowed her bread. “The sex or the winery. I can’t believe you slept with him and didn’t tell me. I hate being the youngest. I never find out anything good until years later.”

Katie raised her eyebrows. “Obviously she decided the sex was more interesting than the money.”

“Apparently,” Brenna said. “Don’t get your panties all in a bunch. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll bet he was great,” Mia said with a sigh. “Nic always looked like he knew his way around female anatomy.”

“We’re eating,” Katie protested.

“Oh, right. Because you and Zach never pushed aside dinner to do it on the table,” Mia grumbled.

Katie blushed slightly, but didn’t respond.

“Just like I thought.” Mia looked triumphant, then turned her attention back to Brenna. “You’re starting your own winery? For real?”

“I don’t have a choice,” Brenna said. “Grandpa Lorenzo and I are arguing about everything. Working with him is a nightmare. Between how much he hates all my ideas and the recent discovery that we have a long-lost brother- the male heir our grandfather has always wanted-I figure my chances of inheriting are somewhere between ‘unlikely’ and ‘it ain’t gonna happen.’”

“But your own label?” Mia sounded both impressed and terrified. “A million dollars?”

“Absolutely. I came up with a great business plan, but I couldn’t get any of the banks to listen. They wanted to know why Grandpa Lorenzo wasn’t backing me himself. I didn’t want to go to Mom and Dad for the money because they live here and it would have been awkward for everyone. So I went to Nic and he said yes.”

She still had trouble believing it was all coming together for her. “He’s loaning me crushing and pressing equipment. It’s old-he’s replaced his system with a state-of-the-art facility that is to die for. The crusher is-”

Mia held up her hands. “Spare us your ode to the grape crusher. The point is, that’s a lot of money.”

“I’m already spending it,” Brenna admitted, feeling a little terrified herself. Although it was a good kind of terror-sort of an “I can’t believe my dreams are coming true” tension. “I’m buying four acres of perfect Pinot growing land down by the coast. I have barrels on order, grapes coming in. Two years from now, I’ll have my first wine out in the world. In three I’ll be making it.”

Mia looked a little dazed. Still, she raised her soda can. “Wow. To Brenna and her new adventure. May you only ever sleep with men as sexy as Indiana Jones.”

“And Nic,” Katie added as she raised her glass. “After all, he’s real.”

“That’s right.” Mia picked up her fork. “So, Brenna. Ten years after the fact, does our dishy neighbor still get your motor humming?”

Brenna thought about her recent encounters with Nic and how after less than thirty seconds in his company she’d been ready to revisit the delights of the past in a very physical way.

“There seems to be some attraction,” she said cautiously.

Mia hooted. “Some? You’re lying. I can tell with my eyes closed.”

Katie leaned forward. “So it’s still there? The chemistry?”

Brenna nodded unhappily. “In a way I wish it weren’t. I’m having some self-control issues. It doesn’t matter, though. For one thing, I don’t know if the feelings are mutual.” Although she kind of thought they might be.

“For another,” she said, making her voice more firm, “Nic and I now have business together. That changes everything. I can’t sleep with the guy who loaned me a million dollars. It would be too weird.”

“Good point,” Katie said.

“What is wrong with you two?” Mia asked. “You don’t have to actually have sex with him to enjoy the experience. That’s what fantasies are for.”

Brenna grinned. “Sometimes, Mia, I like the way you think.”

Just after sunset Brenna turned into the driveway leading to Wild Sea. Ahead of her, a truck pulled to a stop in front of the old building that housed the equipment Nic had loaned her. Brenna parked off to the side and climbed out into the cool evening.

Her heart beat fast and she was having trouble catching her breath, but for once her reactions weren’t about being around Nic. She was really going to do this-she was about to take the first step on the road to making Four Sisters Winery a success.

She hurried toward the building and pulled open the wide double doors. The inside smelled musty, with the scent of previous harvests lingering along with the dust motes. The last rays of sun spilled in from high windows, bathing the ancient equipment in a patina of worn gold. Nic had told her he’d had all the machinery scrubbed out, and she’d already checked that everything functioned, so she could get right to work tonight.

Reverently she ran her hands over the crusher. Excitement flared inside of her. For the rest of her life she would remember this moment, she told herself. Years from now when someone asked where it had all begun, she would recall this night.

“Where do you want them?”

She looked up and saw two men carrying in baskets of grapes. She pointed to the open floor space and helped them arrange the baskets in rows. Twenty minutes later the truck was unloaded and the men left.

Brenna stood alone, surrounded by the best Chardonnay grapes she’d been able to purchase. The scent of the fruit offered a hint of what could be. Possibilities, she thought, picking a grape and biting into it. Making wine was always about possibilities.

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