very far off.”
“Oh my God, you slept with Trey.” Frankie looked horrified. “I mean, he is way closer to your age. But he is such an asshat.”
“No, I dated Richard for a little over a year.”
Jordan was the first to react, her eyes going hard. “You’re the one?”
And here it goes, Regan thought.
“Shut your face,” Frankie exclaimed, her hand over her chest, the first feminine gesture Regan had witnessed from the winemaker. The chipped nails and thorn-scratched hands ruined the effect. “You slept with Abby’s husband?”
“Yes, but before you crucify me and tell me what a slut I am, or that I’m a home-wrecker—” She’d heard it all before. “I had no idea he was married.” Something the rat bastard conveniently left out when expressing his undying love and sliding that diamond on her finger.
“How could you not know?” Jordan countered. “Their wedding was all over the society pages.”
“I lived in Oregon. I was trusting and stupid and nineteen. I had no idea who Richard was, other than this handsome, sophisticated man from Italy who made me feel special.” And wanted to take care of me. Something Regan would never let happen again.
“You were nineteen?” Frankie slammed her palms on the table, silencing the entire bar. “He must have been, what?”
“Thirty,” Regan whispered, hoping Frankie would take the hint and lower her voice. She didn’t.
“Talk about daddy issues.”
They had no idea. “Sophomore year of college I interned with the National Vintner’s Historical Society for the summer. Richard was my mentor. It was a rough summer, my mom was sick and, well, I found out about Abby the night Gabe found out about me.”
Regan had been five months pregnant. They’d been at the restaurant celebrating that they were having a girl.
“Oh. My. God! Is Holly Richard’s?” Jordan whispered.
Regan nodded. Trusting Richard had been the biggest mistake of her life. Too bad she hadn’t been the only one affected. Their relationship had not only broken up a marriage, it put Holly in a place no child should ever be in—unwanted by a parent.
It also got Regan wrapped up in a business venture she should never have been a part of. But she got Holly out of the deal. And that was what was important.
“Richard isn’t involved in Holly’s life.” At all. “He pretty much took off after...”
She looked over her shoulder at Gabe. A slow churning started low in her belly, and when he winked in that I’m-watching-you way, it dropped south. She hated that he hated her, but she understood why. Even more, she hated that she wanted him. How sick was that?
“And pretty much, that’s why Gabe is out to ruin my life,” she said, turning back to the table.
“Ruin your life?” Frankie snorted. “Girl, you screwed with the DeLuca Darling and you still have all your appendages. Impressive. I mean, in the third grade I accidently nailed Abby in the face with a pile of grape pulp.”
“How do you accidently nail someone in the face?” Jordan asked.
“I was aiming for Trey, who retaliated by holding my head in a vat until it turned my skin blue. Nate pulled us apart, eventually, but we all looked like Smurfs for our school pictures.” Frankie glared at the DeLuca table before going on. “And that was before the accident.”
“Accident?”
Jordan remained silent, as if speaking of the DeLucas to “the enemy” was a betrayal. Maybe it was. But when she crossed her arms and sat back, purposefully distancing herself from Regan and taking with her any warm fuzzies they had shared, Regan’s heart sank to her toes.
Is this what living here would feel like every day? No matter how much she had changed or how many times she tried to right her wrong, was she going to be a constant disappointment?
“I was in college, so Abby must have been sixteen or so. Her parents were driving her back from a music recital when a car veered over the divide on Silverado Trail, killing them.”
“Oh, my God. That is horrible.” She wondered how old Gabe had been and how losing his parents without warning had affected him. She’d lost her mom to cancer, and it was the most painful experience of her life, but at least she’d had time to say good-bye.
“It gets worse,” Jordan finally spoke. Any sign of judgment was replaced with sorrow—for the DeLucas. “No one found them for hours. So Abigail was stuck in the car with her parents as they...” She trailed off, her eyes misty. “They were such