our identity around something, and I think it should be rosé.”
He nodded in agreement but looked pensive. He rubbed his jaw for a minute.
“I hate to be a naysayer here, but how can you build around a type of wine Hollander doesn’t even produce?”
“We have to start. Remember that first night we were here at the beginning of the summer? My dad asked us what wine we wanted with dinner, and we both wanted rosé. Everyone wants rosé.”
“Except for Leonard.”
“Yes, well, he’s going to have to get used to the idea. For a long time, he stood out for being the first. But that doesn’t matter anymore. These days, people want what they want. Or they want the new, shiny thing.”
Steven seemed to consider this.
“I think you’re on to something,” he said. “And you know what? Your drive, your excitement over this, turns me on.”
He kissed her, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. Apparently, working on a plan for the vineyard turned her on, too. Or maybe it was just Steven—it had always been Steven. Their passion for each other had been dormant, waiting to rise back to the surface. They just needed to give it room to breathe, like a decanted wine.
Their kiss deepened, the distinct scent of her husband mingled with that of the nearby honeysuckle blossoms, a heady combination.
“Maybe we should take this inside,” Steven said.
He didn’t have to ask her twice. They dashed into the house holding hands, Steven making a “shh” gesture so they didn’t draw attention to themselves. She giggled, feeling like a teenager trying to evade her parents.
She locked the bedroom door, desire pulsing through her like adrenaline.
They fell onto the bed, their bodies entangled in a dance of touch and taste that was achingly familiar but at the same time edged with the thrill of discovery. For Leah, it was rediscovery—not just of her husband but of herself.
Steven paused for a moment, taking her face in his hands. They were both breathing fast, and she wondered why he’d slowed things down. But then he kissed her and said, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said.
He traced the arc of her neck down to her breasts with one finger, sending a shiver through body. Then, leaning back against the pillows, he pulled her on top of him. She guided him with her hand, her body swaying with the universal rhythm of couples throughout time.
Afterward, they lay side by side, breathless and not speaking. She reached for his hand, and he squeezed tight. She had herself. She had her husband.
Now she just needed to hold on to the winery.
Fifty-three
Vivian watched her husband take his traditional spot at the front of the tasting room with their son by his side. It was the place where Leonard always held the first production meeting of the season. It was at this meeting every year, in a room where the very air molecules seemed permeated with wine, where thousands of guests flowed in and out, where the bar was as much a source of information as it was for recreation—it was here that Leonard announced his plans for the grapes as they headed into harvest.
All around her, their employees sat with their morning coffee. It was a familiar sight with one big difference: this time, Leah and Steven were in the group.
“As I say every year, this is as much a celebration as it is a meeting,” Leonard said, looking around the room. “You’ve done your work this summer, and now we wait, the sugar accumulating in the grapes as we speak. Pretty soon we’ll be tasting the literal fruit of our labor, and I think the exceptional weather this summer will result in one of the best vintages in Hollander Estates’ long, esteemed history.”
The room burst into applause. It was unthinkable that—if not for her confession—the baron would have been there to impose himself on the proceedings, contradicting Leonard’s plans or, worse, not letting Leonard lead the meeting at all. Despite the fact that her husband was still being frosty and distant with her, she knew she’d done the right thing. Maybe things did happen for a reason. Maybe her transgression three decades earlier had planted the seed that would save the winery in the end. It was almost worth it—except for her growing fear that her marriage wasn’t going to recover.
Leah caught her eye and gave a wink. Vivian nodded at her. Oh, how she wanted to believe that Leonard had invited their daughter