appreciate the help. And the company, of course. Getting up at dawn goes above and beyond the call of duty.”
“But it’s fun—at least for the first couple of hours,” she added, as Brenna raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief. “Do you think you’ll finish today?”
“Marco brought a full crew, so if not today definitely tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll see you at lunch. Tuna salad okay with you?”
“That’s great. You’re the best.”
“I know,” Dianne tossed over her shoulder as she left.
Brenna had enjoyed the company—having Di to talk to had been a nice distraction, one that she missed as she fell back into her rhythm and her mind started to wander.
There had to be a solution. She just needed to find it. If she’d only known Jack would carry such a grudge…
It wasn’t all her fault, she thought as she carried the full bucket of grapes to the bin at the end of the row and emptied it. He was just as much to blame for their disastrous relationship and the fallout as she was. The early days had been fantastic—the type of thing romance novels were written about. The boss’s handsome son, descending from the city to sweep the winemaker’s daughter off her feet. Picnics in the vineyard; stolen kisses behind the barrels of Merlot. Making love under a canopy of Cabernet vines, then feeding the ripe grapes to each other in the afterglow.
It had been everything she’d ever dreamed of. Romantic and passionate and all-encompassing. Jack had made her feel like the center of his universe—beautiful and sexy and interesting. It had been too easy to fall in love.
But, while opposites attracting worked great in movies, the reality hadn’t been dreamy at all.
While it had all gone to hell later, she did have fond memories of being eighteen and head-over-heels in love. Jack had been different then, too: more carefree, with a smile that melted her knees even in memory.
The old Jack would be more reasonable and much easier for her to deal with. The old Jack wouldn’t want to sell her winery out from under her, or ruin everything she’d worked for simply out of spite. He’d changed so much in the last ten years. He’d become more reserved, harder and colder. Sometimes she wondered if he was really the same man.
She missed the old Jack. The one she fell in love with. The Jack who didn’t hate her.
She shook off the reverie and the sinking feeling. She had to deal with this Jack. And quickly—for the good of Amante Verano and her own mental health.
“Daydreaming on the job, boss?” Ted grinned at her as he upended his overflowing bucket into the bin. “You seem pretty far away.”
“Trust me, I’m here. Just sending up quick prayers that the pump doesn’t die again.”
“After the way you cursed at it yesterday? It wouldn’t dare.”
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