happened and move on.’
Katie took a deep breath and finally found her voice. ‘So you’ve studied psychology along with wine production, have you, Mr Bellini?’ Her gaze was frosty. ‘I do appreciate you trying to help—I’m sure your theory has a good deal of merit, but, you know, I think I handled the situation the very best way I could.’
She stabbed at a slice of green pepper on her plate. ‘Since I’d been with my fiancé for some three and a half years and, bearing in mind that his child was just two years old, I wasn’t about to deal with his fall from grace lightly. I’m pretty sure we talked it through to the nth degree, and I have a very good idea of how the situation came about. I’m also in no doubt that James accepted full responsibility for his actions. For my part, I acknowledged totally what had happened… and I decided to move on.’ Her green glance locked with his. ‘That’s one of the reasons why I’m here now.’
Nick looked as though he’d been knocked for six. ‘It never occurred to me that any man would cheat on you,’ he said in a preoccupied tone. ‘I’d assumed the child was born before you met.’ He held up his hands in a gesture of capitulation. ‘Okay… I admit defeat. I was totally out of order. Clearly, it’s none of my business and I was wrong to try to intervene.’ He frowned. ‘And you must call me Nick. I insist.’
Katie gave a crooked semblance of a smile. ‘Perhaps it would be for the best if we change the subject?’ She glanced at her father. He had started all this, but he seemed altogether indifferent to the havoc he had caused. He simply picked up the wine bottle and began to refill her glass.
‘This is an excellent vintage,’ he said. ‘I’ll order another bottle.’
Katie took a sip of wine. ‘Tell me more about the vineyards,’ she said, shooting a glance towards Nick. ‘How much involvement do you have, if you’re in partnership with your father and brother? Do you each have separate roles?’
‘We do. I deal with the wine-making process rather than the growing side of things, whereas your father is more interested in aspects of cultivation. It’s intensely important to get it right, if we’re to produce a select variety of wines. You must let me show you the winery—I’m sure you would enjoy a visit. Maybe you could come along for a wine-tasting session?’
‘Maybe.’ She wasn’t about to agree to anything.
‘I’ll give you a call some time and see if we can arrange a date.’ Clearly, he wasn’t about to give up, but by now Katie was well and truly on her guard.
From then on, they kept the conversation light. The meal progressed, and Katie tried to damp down her feelings of antagonism towards this man who had cut in on her time with her father. What did her father care about her sensibilities, anyway? Perhaps she was wasting her time trying to find out why he had left all those long years ago.
And as to Nick Bellini, she had made up her mind that she would steer clear of him…no matter how hard he tried to persuade her into another meeting. He had touched a nerve with his comments, leaving her unusually rattled, and, besides, she knew it was a matter of self-preservation to avoid him. He could turn on the charm as easily as igniting a flame. She had been burned once. She wasn’t going to risk body and soul all over again.
‘NO, MUM, I really don’t want to go and live with my father.’ Katie frowned at the idea. ‘He suggested it but, to be honest, it would be like living with a stranger. After all, we barely know one another even after three weeks I still haven’t really managed to fathom him out.’
She glanced around the medical office that she had begun to call her own and leaned back in her seat, beginning to relax. There were still some ten minutes of her coffee break left, more than enough time to sit and chat with her mother.
‘These things take time, I suppose…’ her mother said, ‘but I think it was a wise decision to go over to California to see him. You would never have been comfortable with yourself if you hadn’t gone to seek him out. I suppose we all need to discover our roots, if only to find out if there are some genetic characteristics that have been passed on.’ Her tone was pensive. ‘I know you’re like your father in some ways—you know what you want, and once you’ve made up your mind, you go after it. That’s why you’ve done so well with your medical training.’
Eve Logan was thoughtful for a moment or two, and Katie could imagine her at the other end of the line, mulling things over. ‘It’s a shame you couldn’t find a place to stay that was nearer to the hospital, though,’ Eve added. ‘A half-hour drive to work every day doesn’t sound too good, though I expect it could have been worse.’ She hesitated. ‘Anyway, how is your father? From what you said last week, it sounds as though he’s more ill than we suspected.’
‘He has breathing problems—he’s suffering from what they call chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.’ Katie had spoken to her father about his difficulties, and though he’d been reluctant to dwell on his problems, he’d at least opened up enough to give her a brief outline. ‘He’s taking a variety of medicines to keep it under control, but I don’t think they’re having the desired effect. I suspect his condition’s deteriorating. He puts on a show of being able to cope, but I can see that it’s a struggle for him sometimes.’
She paused. ‘Anyway, you’re right, it makes me even more glad that I decided to come out here when I did. No matter what I think about him, he’s my father, and I feel as though I have to get to know him. Trouble is, every time we meet, he manages to sidestep my questions one way or another, or we’re interrupted somehow.’
It still rankled that Nick Bellini had come along to disrupt her lunch with her father, though in truth she couldn’t really blame him for that. He was an innocent bystander in all this, wasn’t he, and how could he know what kind of relationship they had?
Still, he’d reached her in more ways than she could have imagined. Her father’s business associate wasn’t someone she would easily forget.
‘That must be annoying,’ her mother acknowledged. ‘Still, you have plenty of time to build up some kind of relationship with him. You’ve signed a contract for a year, haven’t you, so you don’t have to rush things…and if, in the end, it doesn’t work out, you can always come home. There’ll always be a place here for you.’
‘Thanks, Mum. That’s good to know.’ Katie’s mouth made a rueful curve. She made it sound so easy, but the truth was, her mother was making a new life for herself back in Shropshire. She was going to marry Simon, a director of the pharmaceutical company where she worked, and they were very much wrapped up in one another right now. Katie wasn’t going to do anything to intrude on that.
‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘in the meantime, the scenery around here is fantastic, and with any luck I’ll get to see the vineyard before too long. It’s not as big as the Bellini vineyard next to it, but by all accounts it’s quite impressive.’
‘Bellini—I’ve heard that name,’ her mother commented, an inflection of interest in her voice. ‘There was an article about them in the Sunday supplement some time ago…all about the different varieties of wine they produce, as I recall. Apparently their land included your father’s vineyard at one time—there was something about an Italian migrant seeing the potential for development at the turn of the last century and buying up as much acreage as he could afford. But as the generations went by there were financial problems and part
