He shouldn’t be surprised. Of course Lorenzo had the means to find out who’d set up the deal. “I have to talk to Brenna. I have to explain-”
“Explain what?” Mia asked, cutting him off. “Nobody here gives a damn about you or your explanations.” She sucked in a breath. “We took you in, Nic. We made you welcome in our home, and all that time you were planning to screw us. I never understood the feud before, but I do now. I want revenge, and if you think I’m pissed off, just imagine what Brenna would like to do with you.”
“Mia, you have to listen. I know it looks bad-”
“Go to hell, Nic. The world would be a better place without you.”
She hung up.
He carefully replaced the receiver, as if by moving slowly he could keep his life from shattering. But it was already too late.
He’d lost.
Owning Marcelli Wines had driven him for years. Now he’d lost his chance. Funny how that barely troubled him at all. What had kept him up last night, what haunted him now, was knowing that he’d lost Brenna. He hadn’t even known that he’d had her, or how much he needed her, and now she was gone.
“I mean this in the nicest possible way, Nic, but you look like crap.”
Nic looked up as Maggie walked into his office. She tossed several folders onto his desk, then leaned against the door frame.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked.
Talk? What was there to say? It had been nearly two days of hell as he tried to figure out how to fix everything that had gone wrong.
“Nic?”
He shrugged. “Brenna found out.”
He braced himself for the sympathy and kind words. They wouldn’t help. Nothing filled the empty crater growing inside of him. Nothing offered relief, or better yet, a solution.
Maggie raised her eyebrows. “So?”
He stared at her. “What do you mean, so? She found out. She won’t speak to me. I haven’t seen her and I can’t get her on the phone.”
“I don’t see the problem. You knew she would find out eventually, and you had a good idea she wouldn’t be happy, so why is this a shock?”
He narrowed his gaze. “I guess you’re not taking my side in this.”
“Why would I? I told you I thought it was a bad idea from the beginning. From what I could tell, you and Brenna were getting pretty tight. You were more interested in her than in anyone I’ve seen you with ever. But you didn’t want her as much as you wanted the win. Now she’s hurt and angry. I’m still confused. Why is this a surprise?”
“I’ve lost her.”
“I didn’t know you had her.”
He nodded. “Me, either. Until it was too late. The Marcelli deal is off, too.”
Maggie didn’t even pretend to look sorry. “Speaking as a friend, and not your employee, I have to tell you, you earned this, Nic. You can’t play with people’s lives and not expect there to be ramifications. You got caught and now you have to pay.”
He didn’t want to hear this. He wanted her to say things would work out fine. He wanted her to tell him that Brenna would understand.
“She said she loved me,” he told her.
That got a reaction. Maggie dropped her arms to her sides and stared at him. “I’m guessing that was before she knew what you were trying to do.”
He nodded.
“You are so screwed.”
“No. If she loves me, she has to forgive me.” He hated the hopeful, pleading tone in his voice. “Doesn’t she?”
Her expression softened. “It doesn’t work like that. Haven’t you figured it out yet? Loving someone doesn’t mean it’s always okay. Some acts are simply unforgivable. I’m sorry, Nic, but I have a bad feeling you’ve committed one of them.”
19
Forty-eight hours later Brenna knew she had to drag herself down to the winery or spend the rest of her life in bed. As her sheets desperately needed washing almost as much as she needed a shower, she forced herself to get up and dressed. One of the Grands snuck in while she was in the bathroom and stripped the bed, which left her no choice but to venture out into daylight. From there it was a short walk to her cramped office in the winery.
The battered old desk was both comforting and familiar. The stack of mail and messages needing response gave her a sense of purpose, even though she still felt as if she were moving under water. Everything was slow and out of sync. Still, she sorted her phone messages into tidy piles. There weren’t any from Nic. Had he not called or was she not being told?
Did it matter? Why did it matter? The man had used her in every way possible while lying to her. Did she really care if he’d called? Was she that weak and spineless?
Yes, she thought sadly. She was.
But she was also really, really mad.
It wasn’t just that he didn’t love her back. She could accept that. Feelings existed for reasons no one could explain. So Nic not loving her wasn’t anyone’s fault. But the man had screwed with her future. He’d played with the one thing she’d loved even longer than him and there had to be something like a suitable punishment. Nobody messed with her wine and got away with it.
There was only one problem-the money. Circumstances being what they were, she doubted Nic was going to let her have access to her barrels. Which meant she couldn’t produce wine, which meant never paying him back. She was trapped, all because she’d trusted Nic.
Worst of all, because there was something uglier than the situation with the wine, she didn’t know how to stop loving him. Oh, she hated him with every fiber of her being, but for how long? And when she got over hating him, wouldn’t the love return? It had lasted through ten years of separation; why would she be lucky enough to have it end now?
Her grandfather appeared at her open door. “You’re here,” he said as he entered. “Better?”
“Some.”
A white lie, she told herself. Telling him about her pain would only make him hurt, too, and what was the point in that?
He took the seat in front of her desk and pointed to a pad of paper. “I want you to make a list for me. Outline everything you have at Wild Sea. How many barrels, what is in them.” He frowned. “You’re through fermenting, aren’t you?”
“I assume you mean the wine and not me personally.”
Her grandfather smiled. “Yes. The wine. Also, give me your copy of the loan.”
“Why?”
“No Marcelli will be beholden to that man.”
His kindness eased some of her pain. “You’re being really sweet, Grandpa, and I appreciate that. But we’re talking about over a million dollars.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “You’re my granddaughter. The loan will be paid back with interest, and your wine will be moved here as soon as possible.”
He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d broken into a chorus of “Oklahoma!”
“Why?” she asked. “I’m happy and thrilled beyond words. But this isn’t your responsibility. I’m the one who messed up. Nic will probably just dump the wine anyway. Not that it matters now.”
