shoulders.
“I just wish Max were here.” The sigh in Ted’s voice brought her back to reality with a jerk.
“I know. These vines were Max’s ticket to wineworld domination—or at the very least a gold medal.” She smiled weakly at Ted as her inspection of the grapes digressed to aimless fiddling. “He really should be here for this. It’s not fair.” She blinked back the tears threatening to escape again. She couldn’t fall apart in front of Ted—or anyone else. Max would expect her to solider on, and everyone at Amante Verano needed to believe she had this under control. “Call Marco. We’ll have the first grapes in the tank by tomorrow night.”
They walked up the hill together, stopping occasionally to test the sugars and make notes on the grapes on different acres. The other vines were being slightly more predictable in their timelines. Another two weeks—give or take—and they’d be ready. September would be high-gear time.
“Have you talked to Jack yet?” Ted asked the question too quietly, too casually.
Her heart thumped in her chest at the mention of his name. “Not since the funeral, and then only for a minute.” And that had been awkward and difficult, not to mention painful on more levels than she cared to admit. She’d exchanged condolences, shaken his hand and left. End of story.
“Does he know?”
“Oh, I’m sure he does. Max’s lawyer called me to explain the partnership and what it meant, and I have to assume Jack was the first to know.”
“And?” Ted was the first to brave asking the question she knew was on everyone’s mind.
“There is no ‘and.’ I’m sure Jack has his hands full with the hotels, and the lawsuit against the driver that hit Max’s car, and everything else, so we’ve got to be pretty low on the priority list.” Max’s death had left them all scrambling these last few weeks, just trying to sort out the wide range of Max’s businesses and projects. In a way it had helped her grieve as well; she hadn’t been able to lose herself in her grief as she’d wanted to, and the pain seemed a little easier to deal with when she could concentrate on keeping Max’s beloved winery running smoothly.
Ted didn’t look relieved.
“After the crush I’ll make an appointment with the lawyers and we’ll get it all sorted out.” She patted his shoulder fondly. “Go on home. We’ve got several very busy days ahead of us.”
“In other words, I should see my daughter while I can?”
“Yep.” The crush would give them all something to focus on. And when it was over she would have proved to everyone she was more than capable of shouldering the responsibility Max left her.
“Do you want to come to the house for dinner? You know you’re always welcome, and Dianne will happily feed you.”
It was tempting, very tempting, but she really needed to learn to cope on her own. Dianne had been mothering her way too much in the weeks since Max had died, and she needed to be strong now. She needed to be a grown-up. “Thanks, but no. Give my goddaughter a kiss for me, though, okay?”
“Will do.” With a wave, Ted was gone, leaving her standing in the shadow of the main house alone, while his long legs covered the distance to the little house quickly. She could see the lights on upstairs in the apartment over the wine shop, which he shared with Dianne and baby Chloe.
She’d left a light on in the house as well, because she hadn’t gotten used to coming home to a silent and dark house yet. She wondered if she ever would. Maybe after the craziness of the crush was over she’d get a puppy. It would keep her company, make the house feel less empty, and give her someone to talk to when she got home at night.
Her footsteps echoed in the hallway as habit directed her toward the office—just her office now, since Max was gone—where the winery’s paperwork waited for her. As always, the work gave her something to do, a way to fill the long evenings.
Pressing “play” on the stereo filled the room with music and chased the dreadful silence away. Max’s huge desk dominated the space, and she turned her chair away from his empty one as she tried to focus on the invoices and orders that kept her inbox overflowing no matter how much time she spent on them.
But her usual focus wouldn’t come. Ted’s earlier question had brought everything she was trying so hard to repress right back to the forefront of her mind.
Amante Verano would make it to the top of Jack’s to-do list eventually, and she had no idea how she’d handle that once it did. Avoidance—her time-honored and safe way of dealing with anything Jack-related—wasn’t going to work this time. She had to make this work, because she couldn’t run a business if she couldn’t talk to her business partner.
The thought of Jack brought up all kinds of feelings she didn’t want to deal with. Their history was just too complicated to pretend it didn’t exist. Max had been her mentor, her friend, her surrogate father, and she, Max, and her mom had been a happy—if slightly oddly configured—family. Jack, not solely by his choice, had never been a part of that. Add in their private history, and the whole mess would put any soap opera plot to shame.
But she’d have to meet with Jack eventually. The thought kicked her heartbeat up a notch, and all the cleansing breaths in the world couldn’t help calm it. She needed to be an adult about this. She needed to concentrate on the present and not let the past interfere.
Her glib response to Ted was starting to sound pretty good: a meeting on neutral ground, with lawyers doing most of the talking so she wouldn’t have to. This was business, not personal, and surely she could swallow all the competing emotions long enough to get through a business meeting.
Many years ago Jack had told her how important it was to keep her personal life from rolling over into her business dealings. “Don’t ever let one affect the other,” he’d said. It was a major point of pride with him, and it seemed to work well as he expanded Garrett Properties all down the west coast.
Jack would want to keep this strictly business. If she could do that, it would make things a lot easier. For everyone, but most especially for her and her sanity.
Brenna took a deep breath, feeling a little better after her self-therapy session. They could come to a workable situation. One that was business only and ignored all the messiness of the past.
The fact she’d been crazy enough to marry him once wouldn’t be a problem at all.
Jack sincerely hoped insanity didn’t run in the family. That Max’s will was merely an act of early-onset senility caused by too much wine over the years, or even some kind of weird joke on Max’s part. There had to be an explanation, and he’d love to have just five minutes with his father to find out what the punch line was supposed to be.
Otherwise, insanity was the only explanation he had for the fact he now owned half of a winery in Sonoma. Him personally—not the company.
And the other half belonged to Brenna Walsh.
Brenna should be a footnote in his dating history—a cautionary tale about youthful infatuation and reckless decision-making—not a recurring character in his life.
Bad decisions must go hand-in-hand with anything Brenna-related, because he spent most of the drive out to Sonoma questioning his decision to handle this in person.
