Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,94

insight she’d gleaned from her brief time with Mateo. And then she remembered something.

“Would it help to sell grapes to another vineyard? I was in Mateo’s office—um, helping out—and someone called from another vineyard looking to buy from Grandpa.” That day had been the first time she kissed Mateo, out in the field. It hurt to think about it. How could that have only been three weeks ago? It felt like a lifetime. With every day that passed, it became more and more clear he wasn’t going to come around: she was part of the Hollander family, he was an employee. End of story.

“Selling grapes just leaves us less for production. There are already empty barrels in the oak room,” her mother said. “But if we bring in outside grapes, we won’t be an estates winery. I think at one point they wanted to acquire more land, but it didn’t happen.”

She slipped the notebooks into her handbag. “I’m keeping a few. Soon, there won’t be much evidence of Hollander Estates. This time next year, someone else’s name will be out front. On the bottles. All of this will be history. Like your great-great-grandfather’s winery in Argentina.”

“Oh, Mom. It’ll be okay.”

“I wonder where all of these books will end up,” Leah said, reaching for a crowded shelf and pulling a few novels into her arms. One of the books, Mistral’s Daughter, was by Judith Krantz—the same author who wrote Scruples. Sadie reached for it and opened to the description. When she looked up, her mother was studying her.

“Can I ask you something?” Leah said. “Where did you run off to the night of the book club?”

Sadie had wondered if her mother would ask her about that night, but after a few weeks passed, she felt like she was in the clear. It’s not that she would have minded confiding in her mother—there had been moments when she wanted to shout her feelings for Mateo from the rooftop. But there was no point getting into it now.

If she should be talking to anyone, she realized, it should be Mateo. Yes, she felt rejected. But look at what the impending sale was doing to her grandmother—she couldn’t even make it through a meal. It was keeping her parents apart since her mother refused to leave while her father had to work in the city. Bridget and Asher had to replan their wedding. Mateo was under the same stress.

“Sorry, Mom, I just remembered there’s somewhere I need to be,” she said, handing the book back to her.

“You’re going out? It’s pouring . . .”

Sadie was already rushing down the stairs.

* * *

When Leonard didn’t come to bed, Vivian went looking for him. Failing to find him anywhere in the house, she pulled on a raincoat and boots and made her way to the dark winery. The rain pelted her so hard it made her heart beat fast. She found shelter under the veranda but didn’t see Leonard until she walked halfway across it. He sat in a chair staring out at the vineyard with a drink in his hand—a whiskey tumbler, not a wineglass.

“Mind some company?” she said, pulling up a chair next to him.

He sipped his drink and said nothing. In the distance, an animal rustled in the grass.

When they first moved to the North Fork, the proximity to wildlife was surprising. Her childhood summers in East Hampton had not brought her many encounters with foxes, turkeys, brazen racoons, or feral cats. In the early days, there had been a few times when an animal crossed her path and she let out a startled yelp that brought Leonard running.

He had always been her protector. And whatever happened next, she knew he would protect her still.

“Leonard, it’s going to be okay,” she said.

He turned to her. “I don’t blame you for being disappointed in me. I’m upset with myself.”

“I’m not disappointed in you,” she said. “You created this life for us. I wouldn’t have wanted anything else.”

He reached for her hand. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She looked into his eyes. “Of course. That’s never been a question.” She swallowed hard. “Leonard, I’m not upset with you. If anything, I blame myself . . .”

He nodded, but it was as if he were only half there.

She couldn’t tell him the truth. It would shatter him. Whatever the burden of having the baron around, she could bear it for a few more weeks. No matter the ups and downs with their children, with money,