that had more meaning. So many potential friendships had lost their luster when it became quite clear that those women had used the possibility of her friendship as a way to obtain his.
“Is that why you didn’t introduce me? Afraid I’d steal away another potential friend?”
“Oh.” Vectra gave a wave and appeared amused. “I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that with Minka. She’s got a standing rule against dating anyone she knows through business.”
“And yet you’ve known her all this time and never mentioned her to me.” He intentionally overlooked the point she was trying to make.
Vectra let her head fall back against the sofa. “Olive...” She shook her head against the cushions and then straightened. “Leave it alone, why don’t you?”
Oliver left the worktable and went for the breakfast cart that had been brought in for Vectra earlier. He opted for a glass of OJ instead of his preferred black, unsweetened coffee.
“Is she married?” he asked.
“No.” Vectra sighed, intent on surveying the monogram of her initials etched into the oversized cuff of her robe.
Oliver sipped the juice and debated the reply. “Seeing someone?” he tried.
“Not that I’m aware of, and just so we can wrap up this part of the conversation, the biggest reason for not introducing you to her is because I just value your life a little too much.”
Oliver hesitated before taking another sip of the juice. “Value my life?” He laughed.
Vectra appeared thoroughly unamused. “Qasim will kill you if you do Minka wrong in any way, and I’d probably help him.” She leaned forward, crossing her wrists over her knees. “Minka’s not the type you just call up when you need your ego...and other things... stroked. She deserves more than a guy who doesn’t believe in ‘sleeping over.’ She deserves to be treasured and to be the only one. You’ve made it clear that you’re not looking for that. Has that changed?” She waited for his response, the expression on her lovely cinnamon-toned face proving she already knew the answer.
Oliver set aside the juice glass. “No.” He gave a quick shake of his head. “That hasn’t changed.”
Vectra nodded as though she were satisfied. She scooted closer to the coffee table, where folders lay marked with the Carro Vineyards logo. “Now, if we’re done discussing the sad state of your love life, I’ve got some questions about these documents you need my proxy for.”
Oliver obliged, joining his sister on the sofa. “For the record, my love life is not sad. I laugh often,” he grumbled.
Vectra selected the folder she was most interested in. “There’s a difference between laughing because something’s funny and laughing because you’re happy.”
Grimacing, Oliver relieved her of the folder. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a weird philosophical outlook? Sunny too.”
“I’m not trying to put you down, Olive.” Vectra smiled off the teasing criticism and squeezed his arm. “You’ll understand once you’re ready to.”
But what if I’m never ready to?
Petaluma, CA
Located in Sonoma County, Petaluma was a picturesque historic town about an hour’s drive from San Francisco. It boasted an impressive reputation as a shooting locale for several major Hollywood films.
The town was also well-known for its numerous poultry farms. It was how Minka Gerald’s grandfather Bryant Gerald had earned his first million in a time when such success was virtually unheard of, especially for an African-American man.
Bryant’s business savvy motivated him to not only experiment with cutting-edge methods and techniques to streamline his farm, but also to branch out into other lucrative areas of industry. Those areas had taken him to billionaire status long before his passing seven years prior.
Minka parked at the top of a brick horseshoe drive, and frowned amusedly as she stepped out. “Well, hey!” she said to the portly mocha-skinned gentleman who strode down the five semicircular steps.
“Gram Z. said you were leaving on vacation,” Minka said as she drew close for a hug.
Claudio Moritz put a kiss to both of Minka’s cheeks. “I decided to take a later flight when Zena told me you were coming up for a visit,” he explained.
“How is she?” Minka sighed, looking toward the palatial Georgian home set in an expansive estate. She smiled when Claudio grunted a laugh.
“Kickin’ ass and not bothering to take names, because she doesn’t care whose ass she kicks,” he said.
“Hold on now.” Minka wagged a finger at the seventysomething Haitian. “You’re supposed to be handling things so she won’t have to kick any asses.”
“Are we talkin’ about the same woman?” Claudio’s expression was one of mock surprise. “About yea high, moves around this place like hell on wheels and’ll curse you out like a sailor if you even hint that she needs to slow down? That woman?”
Minka’s laughter echoed in the crisp air. “You are her first cousin, remember?”
“Lovely.” Claudio fixed Minka with a teasing look of woe. “If your own granddad couldn’t get that woman to slow down, how in Hades do you expect me to?”
More laughter soared between the two. Claudio was the first to sober.
“She still misses him.” He looked toward the house.
Minka nodded, knowing as much. “I guess one never gets over their true love.”
“Especially when it’s a first love,” Claudio added with a decisive nod.
Minka put a refreshing smile in place. “Can you tell me what she wants?”
“No idea.” Claudio put on a phony display of innocence when he shrugged. “What else could it be when grandmother and granddaughter spend time together, except the sweetest things?”
“Mmm-hmm, sweet things like when I’ll make her a great-grandmother.” Minka sighed, her tone only playfully agitated.
Claudio added a chuckle as he nodded. “Will it make you feel better to know there will be talk of business too?”
Minka read Claudio’s caginess and knew that he’d tell her nothing of further use. “Thanks for the info,” she said and pulled him in for another hug before they parted ways.
The stateliness of Zena Gerald’s home was equally evident on the interior. Rooms were posh, yet comfortably designed.
The house, with its open spaces and picture windows that revealed views of rolling greens, sky-blue hues and colorful floral splashes, gave one the impression that they were standing in the middle of a breathtaking watercolor painting.
“Babylove!”
Minka turned into the
