Or was that just an ego-based fantasy? In truth she was gone because he’d never been willing to acknowledge she was important to him. She’d been a means to an end, not a person. Not a woman he loved. Had loved.
Hell, who was he kidding? Brenna was as much a part of him as his fingerprints. She’d stolen his heart a lifetime ago, and he would never get it back.
He crossed to one of the chairs still in the building and touched battered wood. They’d sat in these seats, talking, arguing, rediscovering the possibilities. She shared her dreams with him, he’d relived their past. Somehow ten years after the fact, they’d made peace with what had happened before.
They’d made love in this room. They’d shared bodies and hearts, and until this moment he hadn’t known how much that meant to him. Now there were only ghosts and echoes of what could have been. He’d fallen in love and he’d been too blind to see his feelings for what they were. He’d put away the past, but had lost the future.
Even without Marcelli Wines, Wild Sea would go on. The company would grow and prosper. The Giovanni family would never want for anything. As he had wanted, Nic had created a legacy that would continue indefinitely.
He sank into the chair and rested his head in his hands. Oh, yeah, he should be damn proud. He’d created a legacy for one. There were no children to carry on the family name, no wife to come home to. He lived with a dog. At the end of the day he stood alone.
For years he’d told himself that was what he wanted. That he needed no one. But he’d been lying. He ached for Brenna. Her voice, her laughter, her touch, her grit and determination, her fearlessness, her love, gave his life purpose. He’d never loved anyone else because he’d never stopped loving her. They were a part of each other. She’d seen that, but he’d been blinded by pride and ambition. Now they were all he had to keep himself warm at night.
The fault, the blame, the responsibility was all his. There was no delegating this disaster.
For the first time Nic wondered if Salvatore had ever regretted his act of revenge. He’d exacted a price for his best friend’s betrayal. Had he ever considered the cost too high? Had Salvatore lost more than he had gained?
For nearly a hundred years the Marcellis and Giovannis had been linked. First by friendship and dreams, and later by hatred and destruction. What was that old saying? Those who do not learn from the past are destined to repeat it. Well, Nic had finally learned, even if his great-grandfather had not. Success through destruction or revenge was an empty victory, and the price was paid by generations. He couldn’t change what Salvatore had done, nor could he undo his own reckless behavior. But he could make amends. They might not win back Brenna, but they would end the feud. Maybe that was the best he could hope for.
Twelve-year-old Kelly, Francesca’s soon-to-be stepdaughter, bounced in her seat. “So you, like, own the whole winery?” she asked. “You’re rich?”
Mia wrinkled her nose as she threaded a bead onto the needle. “We all own it equally, but Brenna gets to run things.” She turned to Katie. “Can we fire her if her head gets too big?”
“Don’t sweat it,” Brenna told her. “I have an anti-big-head clause in my contract.”
Mia shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s going to be enough.”
Brenna smiled because Mia was trying to be funny, and if she could convince her sisters that everything was fine, maybe they’d stop hovering around her.
They were trying to be kind. She understood they were concerned about her and wanted to help. But there wasn’t anything for them to do just now. She alone could endure and recover. In time she wouldn’t hurt so much.
Francesca finished beading the piece of lace and set it on the coffee table in front of her. “Look at the bright side, Mia. If Brenna gets out of hand, we can always threaten to take over those ocean-front four acres where she’s growing her precious Pinot grapes. Imagine the views we’d have from our front windows.”
“Not in this lifetime,” Brenna growled.
Katie grinned. “Good idea. I’ll talk to Grandpa about it,” she said in a mock whisper.
Kelly glanced at Francesca’s watch. “It’s been fifteen minutes,” she said. “The cookies should be cool enough to frost. May I be excused?”
“Of course.” Francesca smiled at Kelly. “While beading lace can be pretty exciting, I know it doesn’t compare with icing cookies. Why don’t you bring us a plate of them when you’re finished.”
“Okay.”
Kelly stood and dropped her piece of lace onto the loveseat, then raced into the kitchen.
Francesca glanced toward the kitchen, then back at Brenna. She lowered her voice.
“How are you doing?”
“Fine.” Brenna forced a smile. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m going to be okay. I have the winery and my family. I feel very loved and supported.” She glanced at her sisters and saw none of them looked convinced. She made an X over her heart. “I swear.”
“I should get in touch with Joe,” Mia grumbled. “He’d know what to do.”
Francesca shook her head. “Joe can’t help with the real problem.”
She exchanged a look with Katie that told Brenna the two of them had been talking about her.
Brenna sighed. “Okay. Out with it.”
Katie shrugged at Francesca. Brenna’s twin sighed.
“We know you’re still in love with him.”
Brenna didn’t consider that a news flash. “So?”
“So what happens now?”
“As far as I can tell, nothing happens. I keep moving forward. I work, I plan, I recover.”
“Do you want him back?”
Trust Francesca to cut to the heart of the matter. Did she want Nic back in her life? “Yes,” she said, then sighed. “How sick is that? The man betrayed me in the worst way possible, and I still want to be with him.”
“You’re not going to, though, are you?” Mia asked. “I mean he was so awful. Trying to buy the winery like that and using you. You’ve got to be mad at him.”
Brenna nodded. “Furious.”
Francesca looked at Mia. “It’s not that simple. Loving someone can be a complicated, multilayered situation. You hate the act, but still love the man.”
“I’ll get over it,” Brenna promised, then hoped she wasn’t lying.
“You don’t have to help with the dresses,” Katie said. “Not if it’s uncomfortable.”
“Hey, I’m still a member of this family,” Brenna reminded her. “I want to work on the dresses. I want you both to be wildly happy with the men you’re going to marry. I’m thrilled for you both, and I can’t wait to dance at your wedding. I just need a little time.”
None of her sisters looked convinced, but they dropped the subject. Mia talked about the classes she would be taking when school started the following week, and Katie told funny stories about an office party she’d catered. Brenna listened and nodded, laughing where she was supposed to and adding a comment now and then. She thought she did a pretty good imitation of someone getting by. Her goal was to never let them know how much she hurt inside. Forgetting Jeff had been a snap, which went to show how little she’d cared about her ex-husband. She knew loving Nic was a slick road to hell, but she couldn’t figure out how to make the feelings go away.
Give it time, she told herself. Time and wisdom and possibly an ocean of tears.
By early October the vines were ready for their winter rest. Brenna and her grandfather strolled through the rows of plants. A bright afternoon sun warmed the temperature into the low seventies, but as always, Brenna felt cold. She didn’t sleep much these days and food didn’t appeal to her. The previous night she’d actually not been in the mood for dinner. If she kept this up for long, she would be able to give Francesca a run for her money as the skinny sister.
“I tasted your Pinot yesterday,” her grandfather said. “Still too soon to tell, but I think maybe you were right about that land.”
Brenna pressed a hand to her chest. “Careful, Grandpa. Too many shocks like that and my heart will fail.”
He ignored her. “I think maybe we find another few acres right on the coast and plant some more. With the fog to keep the vines cool and salt air to add that touch of magic, we could create something very special.”
She turned and stared at him. “You want to buy land? Non-Marcelli acreage and put our name on the
