keep his bike.”
“It may not be the same one, but he still has a motorcycle,” Brenna said. “I’ve seen him on it around here.” She didn’t say that watching him drive by made her blood race or her throat get dry. Nor would she admit that the sight of him in his black leather jacket had flooded her with memories. Having a crush on Nic at seventeen was acceptable. At twenty-seven it was just plain embarrassing.
“So you’re hanging out together,” Katie said. “Then what?”
“Then one day he kissed me. I was really surprised. I had a thing for him, but I figured he thought I was still a kid.”
He’d frequently talked about how much younger she was than him and just as often she’d pointed out that while three years seemed like a big deal now, when they were older it wouldn’t matter at all.
“He kisses great, huh?” Katie said.
“Not bad.”
Francesca looked at Katie. “She is so lying. You know it was better than not bad. If nothing else, Nic has had plenty of practice.”
“Are you telling this story or am I?”
Francesca shrugged. “Keep talking.”
“So he kissed me and I was stunned and then he admitted that he liked me a lot and I admitted I felt the same about him. Things progressed as they do and one day we made love.”
Francesca’s humor fled. “You were only seventeen.”
“I know. I was scared, but Nic was great and within a few days the sex was terrific.”
“You never told us. You kept this from me,” Francesca said, sounding hurt. “Of course it’s all right, it’s just…”
Brenna understood. She and Francesca were twins. “I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want you two keeping my secrets and…” She smiled. “Somehow no one knowing made it even more special. I know that sounds silly and it probably was, but I liked having Nic all to myself.”
“If you had Nic as your secret, would you have told us?” Katie asked Francesca. “Knowing how the three of us would talk about it, laugh about it, and study it from every angle?”
Brenna’s twin grinned. “Hmm, tell you two all the details or keep Nic to myself. Not exactly a tough choice.” She looked at Brenna. “Okay. I forgive you.”
“Oh, good. Now I can sleep tonight.”
Katie sat up and reached for the wine bottle. “I understand the why of keeping it quiet. What impresses me is that you could. There wasn’t even a hint.”
“I knew it would cause trouble. The families hadn’t spoken in three generations. It’s not as if Grandpa Lorenzo listened to me about anything anyway. Can you imagine the explosion if I told him I was in love with Nic?”
“Were you in love?” Francesca asked.
“Completely.”
“So why did it end?”
“Nic went back to school. He was going to UC Davis, I was here. We didn’t see each other.”
She took the bottle from Katie and topped up her own glass, then took a drink.
She and Nic hadn’t seen each other. But what she didn’t tell her sisters was that they’d written. He’d sent his letters to one of her friend’s. They’d agreed to see other people while he was gone. She still didn’t know if Nic had gotten involved with another girl, but after falling in love with him, she’d been unable to get excited about any of the boys at her high school. She also didn’t mention that when Nic returned, they had picked up where they’d left off. That this time when the relationship ended it wasn’t over something as simple as Nic heading off to school. This time she’d been responsible.
“What did he say when you went to him for the loan?” Katie asked.
“He said he would think about it.”
“That’s a yes?”
“It’s not a no. I should hear from him in the next couple of days.”
Francesca shook her head. “Are you sure about this? You don’t think it’s the least bit dangerous borrowing money from the great-grandson of the family’s sworn enemy?”
“Do any of us take the feud seriously?”
“No.” Francesca picked up a cookie. “I hope everything goes well. Maybe he’ll loan you the money for old times’ sake.”
“No teenage relationship is worth that much,” Katie said.
Brenna couldn’t help agreeing. What they didn’t know and what she wouldn’t tell them was there had been a time when Nic had hated her as much as he had once loved her. Not that she could blame him. If their situations had been reversed, she would never have forgiven him.
For the first time since going to him that afternoon, she felt a shiver of apprehension. If he wanted revenge, she was handing him the means.
No, she told herself. That wasn’t possible. Nic wanting revenge would mean that she still mattered. It had been nearly ten years since their relationship had ended, and in that time he’d dated scads of beautiful women. She was just somebody he used to know and his interest in her project was about risk and opportunity, nothing more.
Francesca smiled. “Okay, Brenna. If you’re determined to do this, then I want to wish you the best.” She raised her drink. “To your new winery.”
Katie raised her glass as well. “May you only rate ninety and above in Wine Spectator.”
Brenna picked up her glass. “To new beginnings. For all of us.”
Nic called out greetings to the office staff as he walked to the executive offices of Wild Sea Vineyards. The door with the brass nameplate stating M. Moore, Chief Financial Officer, stood open. He knocked once and entered.
Maggie Moore, a tall, beautiful redhead with a brain like a computer, looked up and grinned. “I can always tell when you’re around by the increase in the pitch of conversation among the office staff. You’re a distraction.”
“That’s because they’re all dancing around, trying to look at my butt.”
She shook her head. “I should never have told you they did that.”
“Why not? It’s flattering.”
“Yeah, and you strutted around here for weeks afterward.”
“Can I help it if they find me irresistible? Besides, I’ve checked out my share of female body parts over the years. I consider it payback.”
“Which you love. It’s a curse, but you handle it with style and grace.”
“Absolutely.”
She laughed then and her green eyes crinkled at the corners.
Maggie had always enjoyed poking at his ego. For the past eight years she’d kept him from taking himself too seriously. When they’d transitioned from lovers to coworkers, that trait had kept things comfortable between them.
He nodded at the computer. “Are we making millions?”
“I’m doing my best to make that happen. When does harvest start?”
“Next week for the Chardonnay grapes.”
“Am I supposed to be praying for rain or no rain?”
“No rain during harvest. While you’re at it, mention that we’d like warm temperatures for the Cabernet and Merlot grapes.” He pulled out a chair in front of her desk and took a seat.
“I’ll never remember all that.”
“That’s because you’re not a wine drinker.”
She touched her index finger to her lips. “You’re not supposed to tell. It’s my big secret.”
“I know. I figure one day I’ll use it for blackmail.”
“Can I help it if I don’t get the whole wine thing? Give me a milkshake kind of drink or something with an umbrella. I don’t want to taste the alcohol if I don’t have to.”
He grimaced. “Strawberry daiquiris. Talk about a chick drink.”
“I am a chick, thank you very much.”
“I did my best to educate your palate, but you’re beyond redemption.”
Maggie didn’t look the least bit chagrined. “I figure there are more people like me in the world than there are
