Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,51

place. And now with Mateo managing operations . . .”

“Your father said not to count on it.”

Leah felt stricken. As for Javier, she didn’t know if it was the evening darkness—shadows falling across his brow—or just end-of-the-day fatigue, but he looked years older than the man she had greeted in the field when she first arrived. It was hard to reconcile the man standing before her with the boy of her girlhood dreams.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

He glanced back toward Field House.

“It’s late,” he said.

“Of course—I don’t mean to keep you.”

“Leah, if there’s anything you can do,” he said. She looked into his troubled dark eyes, the eyes that used to light up her day when she was a girl. She was painfully aware that he’d been at the vineyard for nearly her entire life.

“I’m going to try. I promise.”

She watched him disappear into the night, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around and go back to the house. She didn’t want to face her empty bedroom—nor did she want to face the fact that Steven was right: although she’d stayed behind to “help,” she was powerless.

Twenty-five

It was the first darkly overcast day since she arrived at the vineyard. Sadie settled on the veranda, waiting for the rain to come. Watching a storm shower the vines was always dramatic and lovely, even at the expense of a summer day.

She opened her phone and cued up the reading app she’d downloaded the night before. She’d never owned an e-reader and generally thought it was crazy to read on a phone, but she was curious about the book her mother was so obsessed with. And she didn’t want to be seen reading it. So far, Chances was the saga of an oversexed gangster with an empire in jeopardy and a rebellious daughter named Lucky.

“That’s the problem with your generation: you’re always staring at a screen,” Leonard said, appearing behind her.

She immediately put down her phone.

Her grandfather had always been an almost unreal figure to her, the stuff of legend. The living room was filled with framed photos of her grandfather with statesmen and celebrities. Her mother had told her, many different times, in different ways, the story of how Leonard Hollander, the son of immigrants, had built his fortune. People looked at the winery now, when the North Fork had over fifty robust wineries, and it seemed like Hollander Estates was a no-brainer. But back in the day, Leonard had been a visionary.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “When your grandmother was your age, she was knee-deep in soil, out in the fields, every day starting at dawn.”

Sadie nodded, unsure what point he was making. Was she supposed to be working in the vineyard? Maybe there was no point. Maybe he was just a grumpy old man. She loved him, but she didn’t understand him. She was pretty sure her mother felt the same way.

“That’s impressive,” Sadie said.

“We’ve worked very hard,” he said. “I should hope that sets an example for you.”

“Absolutely,” Sadie replied. He looked at her expectantly, showing no sign of leaving.

“You’re right, Grandpa,” she said, standing up and putting her phone in her bag. “I’m going to go find the vineyard crew and see if I can help out.”

“Now, that’s what I like to hear! Onward. Be productive.”

She walked out to the field with purpose in her stride. It just wasn’t the purpose her grandfather thought she had.

Reading Chances was making her think about sex. And thinking about sex was making her think about Mateo.

The air was heavy with moisture, and she inhaled. In the distance, Mateo was busy tending to the vines. She walked faster, the humidity creating a sheen of moisture all along her body.

Mateo, dressed in jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a black Hollander Estates baseball cap, crouched down low, his gloved hands tugging at the grapevines. Alongside him, all down the row, workers did the same. Everyone was so intent on the task at hand that not a single person noticed her.

“Hey,” Sadie said when she’d gotten close enough. “Need any help?”

Mateo pulled some leaves from a plant and looked up at her. At the eye contact, Sadie felt a little jolt.

“You want to help?” He looked skeptical.

“Um, yeah.”

He waved her over. “See this? These are baby Syrah berries. We need to clear away the leaves so they get exposure.”

Thunder sounded in the distance. Normally, this would send Sadie running. She hated lightning, especially out in the country. But her interest in hanging