Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,116

mentioned you have a contact who’s looking to buy.” At the mention of Sadie’s name, Mateo averted his eyes. He probably wondered if she knew about their little summer romance. Poor Sadie. Every time she called or texted, she couldn’t help but ask if Leah had “seen” Mateo, which was really just fishing to see if Mateo had asked about her. He had not. And, despite this obvious opening to do so, clearly he would not.

“My buddy at a vineyard down the road wants whites. But Leonard’s always made it clear that’s not the business he’s in,” Mateo said.

“A week ago you would have sworn he’d never do a rosé,” Leah said. “So humor me: check in with your friend and see if he’s still in the market.” She paused, wondering how best to deliver the kicker. “And I need to know who you both think would be best to approach about buying reds.”

Javier said something in rapid-fire Spanish.

“We can’t bring in reds without losing the estates designation,” Mateo said.

“I know.” But what good was a point-of-pride designation if they were out of business? She didn’t say that, though. It was understood.

Again, father and son consulted in Spanish. Her high school knowledge of the language was failing her; she’d fully intended to be fluent when she planned on working at the vineyard, but over the decades she’d lost most of her vocabulary.

She looked around the office, admiring the framed photographs on the wall. It took her a minute to realize that one was a close-up of the glass container used during their annual Harvest Circle. The photo on the wall was visually stunning in its close-up capture of the colors: yellow and pink and deep violet. But the real beauty was in the sentiment behind the image.

“Javier, what gave you the idea to use the natural flora for fermentation?”

“That came from my wife. Her family is agricultura, too.”

Leah thought how lucky she was that Steven was willing to be by her side when Javier’s wife had left the vineyard years earlier. It wasn’t for everyone, and even those who understood its rhythms and demands didn’t necessarily want to make the compromises.

The ones who remained, the one who believed—they were worth fighting for.

Fifty-four

Vivian, alone in the bedroom, heard something loud thumping down the stairs.

In the days since she confessed to Leonard about the baron, he’d moved into one of the guest rooms on the third floor. She didn’t know what to do about it. She wished she had someone to talk to, someone to offer some advice.

Her mother had been gone for twenty years, and before that, they’d had a distant relationship at best. Lillian had never forgiven her for running off to a “godforsaken potato farm.” But for the first time in a long time, Vivian wished she could talk to her.

Maybe that was why she’d found such joy in the novels she read. The voices of women writers filled the hole in her life where her mother’s used to be.

The thumping noise continued. She pulled on her robe and stepped into the hallway to find Bridget dragging a suitcase down the stairs.

“Bridget, for heaven’s sake, don’t let that bump into the side of the banister; it will damage the wood. Get Asher to help you.”

Bridget turned around, and her face was red and puffy, her eyes teary.

“What’s wrong?” Vivian said, taking the steps down to her.

“Asher broke off our engagement,” she sniffed.

“Why?”

Bridget started sobbing. Oh, this wouldn’t do at all.

“Bridget, leave that suitcase there and come with me.” She led her back to her bedroom and closed the door. She handed her a box of tissues and had her take a seat in one of the Georgian armchairs while she folded herself onto the other, just as she’d sat with Leonard when she told him about her indiscretion. She wondered if Bridget had a similar story, if she’d betrayed Asher. Vivian couldn’t imagine any other reason why he would break off the engagement.

“Now, what’s going on?” Vivian said.

Bridget pulled a lock of hair loose from her ponytail holder and began twirling it. “He said he can’t marry me . . . under the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” Vivian said impatiently.

“Losing the winery.”

Apparently, Asher wasn’t fooled by Leonard’s show of bravado at the production meeting, either. He anticipated the worst. Only Leah was under the illusion that the winery could be saved, but how long could that last? More urgently, she wondered why Asher broke up with his fiancée over it.

“What does