Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,109

two days to go before the harvest production meeting, it was at least a start.

She had her father’s ear. She had the beginning of an idea. Now she just had to find a way to tell her husband she wasn’t coming home. Again.

* * *

Vivian wanted to take pleasure in the simple elegance of the dinner table, set with a yellow linen runner down the center and three bunches of sunflowers. But it did little to offset the tense mood. Leah looked deflated. She must be lonely without her husband—or, at the very least, aware of the fact that he had made the decision not to join her. She was quiet—the whole table was quiet. Except for Bridget. Vivian found herself actually welcoming Bridget’s prattle for once.

“So this crochet bikini designer is paying me per views on my video. Everyone has to go onto Instagram and tell your friends.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “I’m supposed to tell people to go online to look at videos of my son’s fiancée in a bathing suit?”

“Exactly! Thanks,” Bridget said.

Leonard poured more wine into his glass, took a sip, and then stood as if to make a toast. But he didn’t raise his glass.

“I have an announcement to make.”

The kids looked at him expectantly. Vivian tried to make eye contact with him, but he avoided her.

“The deal is off. The sale of the winery is not happening. At least, not for now.”

Vivian glanced at Leah, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod that she understood: the conversation had happened, and the outcome was as she’d predicted.

“What do you mean?” Asher said. “Don’t tell me this guy backed out, too. What the hell? Maybe Harold needs to rethink how he’s presenting the financials . . .”

Leonard held up his hand. “Enough. I’m the one who called off the deal. And I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

“When were you going to tell me?” Asher said, getting red in the face.

“I’m telling you now!”

“Okay, okay,” Vivian said. “Can we all just . . . relax.”

Leonard shot her an irritated look, and then it was back to silence. Leah, Asher, and Bridget clearly couldn’t wait to finish eating and decamp back to the house. When Vivian was alone with Leonard, she said, “I know you’re upset with me. But don’t take it out on the kids.”

Leonard pushed his plate away, looking around for Peternelle.

“I especially don’t want you giving Leah a hard time,” Vivian said. “It seems our marriage isn’t the only one suffering in all of this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t like the fact that Leah’s out here without Steven. It’s not a good sign.”

“Maybe not. I hope that isn’t the case. But there’s nothing we can do about it either way,” he said, standing and dropping his napkin onto the table.

Vivian wasn’t so sure about that. It was one thing for her marriage to be in jeopardy over all of this. But she wasn’t going to sit by and watch her daughter’s break apart.

Fifty

Bridget floated on a raft in the middle of the pool, wearing a skimpy black crochet bikini and a pair of the fluorescent rubber sunglasses covering her eyes. Her long red hair fanned out into the water. Leah stood for a minute, squinting against the sun. Was Bridget reading Vivian’s copy of Lace?

“Bridget, hey—can I talk to you for a minute?”

She looked up, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head.

“Leah! Come on in. The water’s amazing,” she said.

All Leah could think about was the fact that her mother would go nuts if she saw her book in the pool.

“I’m afraid I can’t right now. But can you come out for a minute? I want to ask you something.”

“No one wants to have fun around here,” she said, making no move to get out of the pool.

“It will just take a minute.”

Bridget pulled her glasses down again, one hand drifting lazily into the water, paddling a small current to turn the raft in the other direction.

Oh, fine! Leah kicked off her sandals and stepped into the warm water of the shallow end, progressing only far enough that the water was above her knees but not soaking her shorts.

“I’m in the pool. Now can we talk?” Leah called out.

Bridget propelled the raft toward her. When she got close enough, Leah waded over.

“Isn’t this better?” Bridget smiled.

“It’s . . . fine.” It was heavenly.

“Let me guess: you want to talk about Asher.”

“No. What about him?”

“I dunno. He’s been acting weird since dinner last