At Wits' End - Kenzie Reed Page 0,33

wines are in every supermarket in the country.

“So you can gloat?” I push my chair back away from him. And I see the shutters slam closed in his eyes. He stands up abruptly, brushing his hands on his slacks, lines wrinkling his smooth forehead.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I’m just stressed out right now. I appreciate you being willing to lend a sympathetic ear. I just think… Fernanda doesn’t even know about the marriage, and she has very strong feelings about your family. I don’t think she’d be comfortable having me discuss business with you.”

His brows shoot up so high they almost hit his hairline. “Pump the brakes there. She does not know about the marriage?” He plops back down in the chair.

“Oh God, no.” I shudder. “You know how traditional she is about relationships. Marriage is sacred. I mean, Uncle Nuccio’s been dead for ten years and she’s said she’ll never date again because she knows he’ll be waiting for her in Heaven and she couldn’t… Damn it, now I am crying.”

Donovan pulls out a folded kerchief from his pocket and hands it to me. I dab at my eyes, blow my nose, and hand it back, and he shoves it back in his pocket.

“How, exactly, are you planning to keep this a secret from her?”

“Well, she steadfastly refuses to take part in or even acknowledge the 21st century. She doesn’t ever go on the internet, or use cell phones. I’ve reached out to her best friends in town and explained everything and asked them not to say anything to her, because without this financing, the winery’s…” I trail off. “Facing some challenging times.”

Going under.

“She certainly is old fashioned. Is that why the vineyard’s got a bare-bones website and people have to come to her doorstep to purchase? Why she still won’t ship anywhere?”

I heave a sigh. “That and the challenge and expense of applying for licenses to ship wine out of state. She’d have to set up a system to ship wine, even within the state, and it’s not something she’ll ever do on her own. And I ran out on her, and the vineyard, so I haven’t really felt like I could lecture her on how to run things.”

“Number one, you didn’t run out on her. You just chose not to go into the winemaking business. But you’ve come back for this family again and again to help straighten out their finances whenever they needed it. Everybody knows that. And number two, we’re not talking about seven years ago, we’re talking about now. You’re smart, you’re determined, you haven’t forgotten what you’ve learned from your viticulture degree because you have a mind like a steel trap, and you have the opportunity to help her get things back in shape.” He leans forward. “I mean, my family sells in every single state. I could get one of my sisters to help you with the…”

I shake my head.

“Sorry. Aunt Fernanda would put a hex on me.”

He nods somberly. “Yeah, I understand.”

“I do appreciate it.” I massage my temples. “I thought you were going to your family’s house so you can use your dad’s office? Didn’t you say you had a whole bunch of work you needed to do for your own company?”

“Yeah. It can wait, if you need me.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice snatches my breath away. Is this Donovan Witlocke speaking, or his non-evil twin?

“I’ve got it, but thank you. Also, who are you? That’s…not at all jerkish.”

“Don’t get used to it, shortcake.” As if to punctuate his insult, he stands up and towers over me.

I tilt my head back to stare up at him, and flash a sardonic smile. “That’s better. There’s the man I know and loathe.”

But there’s no venom in my voice when I say it, and I realize my dark mood has lightened considerably. Because of Donovan. Just knowing that he’s in my corner.

Is he really, though, or is this all some elaborate con? And what would be the end game?

He smiles and winks, making my heart flutter, and walks out the door. Fortunately, I’ve become an expert at compartmentalizing my feelings when it comes to Donovan. There’s the “Lust” folder, where I firmly contain my raging arousal, and then there’s the “But he’s a Witlocke” wall, which I have built up around my heart and my vagina.

I need someone who’s really in my corner, someone I can trust completely. I pick up the phone and call Pamela.

She