A Kiss of Cabernet Page 15

  “Last night.”

  She relaxed and smiled, sipping her coffee. “I’m not sorry,” she said with a slight flush to her face.

  “Neither am I.” He reached over and gave her a quick kiss on the end of her nose. “This is hard to say, but I have to be sure you understand. For your own good, there can be nothing more than what we experienced last night. I don’t want to create any false expectations.”

  For her own good? Hell, I should have said, “For my own good.”

  “Of course. I understand perfectly. Now let’s eat.”

  She turned away for a moment, straightened her shoulders, then faced him again with a smile. He was oddly disappointed that she hadn’t reacted differently, but he had done the right thing. He didn’t want her to think last night had been anything special.

  Even if it had.

  He concentrated on his cooking, adding cheese and a little basil to the omelet in the pan. The cheese melted into the softly cooked egg mixture, and he flipped one side over and on top of it.

  “Get a plate.”

  …

  It had been an incredible night. Paige’s body thrummed just thinking of it. She snipped a wet cluster of cabernet franc for testing, and slogged through the muddy rows, heading back toward the barn. Wind damage was slight, and a good portion of the crop had made it into the trucks. They didn’t get two blocks picked, but she was satisfied with what they had.

  Distracted, she watched a flock of birds land on the stripped vines. The protective nets had been removed, and birds were now able to peck at the remainders—clusters too small or not yet ripe.

  Her thoughts drifted back to Jake. How long would he stay? She was still tingling and dreaming. She didn’t want to let go of the memory of last night.

  Yesterday was a bright spot, too. Getting most of the crop in would save this year’s profits. Farming was a delicate business, weather-dependent. But Jake would see that with determination, even huge problems could be solved. She hoped he would sign the contracts now that he’d experienced the harvest. Surely he realized how valuable this place was.

  Her father coming to her rescue had been beyond her wildest hopes. She hoped it signaled a thaw in their icy relationship. Finally, Manuel would stop haunting her.

  Paige turned back to her job and walked briskly down the hill.

  …

  Jake switched on the dishwasher and hung up the kitchen towel. He’d given Molly the day off after staying late with the workers yesterday. He turned on the computer to check his email. Too many to read, including several from Carol. Instead of going through them, he picked up the phone.

  “What’s up? I see you called several times.”

  “Where have you been?” She sounded agitated, but that wasn’t unusual.

  “I’ve been harvesting my crop. What do you need?”

  “You need to come home now. All hell’s broken loose at Pantheon. Jorgensen’s moved up the emergency meeting of the Pantheon board and has refused to postpone it. Apparently, he now has majority control and doesn’t need your permission to do this. If you get the red eye, you can make the meeting. It will be at Pantheon’s campus in Philadelphia.”

  “Make a reservation for me out of Oakland and send a limo to pick me up. I want to keep the car I rented here. Call back and let me know the particulars.”

  “No need. It’s already done. Just pack and be ready by four o’clock for the car.”

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “Damn right. You should give me a raise when the dust settles. Good-bye.”

  He’d find Paige before he left and explain. She’d understand. He rested his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands. He hated to leave right now.

  But if you were honest with yourself, you’d know it was an excellent time to leave and you shouldn’t come back. The woman deserves more than an occasional hookup, and that’s all you can give her.

  He rubbed his eyes and turned to the emails, deleting as fast as he read, saving a few to read later. By the time he responded and turned to his voice messages, it was past noon and his stomach was rumbling.

  Reluctantly he got up, first making a call to the housekeeper to tell her to take a few more days off, and then he tried Paige’s cell. It went straight to voicemail. He left a message, saying he had to go to Philadelphia and would call her in the morning.

  He packed his overnight bag, then tried calling Paige again. He had walked down to her cottage and over to the barns, but she wasn’t in either place.

  Where the hell is she? Did she have second thoughts about last night? Was she avoiding him? He hated leaving without talking to her, but he had no choice. Hopefully, she’d understand.

  On the way to the airport, he thought about everything he’d learned about running a vineyard estate and his decision to hang on to it. But the situation in Philadelphia was troubling. He’d have to outwit Jorgensen now, to keep the vineyard safe. And by God, he was up to the challenge. He had great incentive.

  He didn’t want Sven anywhere near Paige.

  …

  Paige saw the limo roll down the driveway from the farthest hill. Was Jake leaving without saying good-bye? Again?

  She sat in the mud and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. It was one of her favorite thinking positions, and she really needed to think right now. This was what they’d agreed on, but she didn’t want to believe it. They’d been so good together.

  The sounds of noisy birds intruded on her thoughts, and the smell of damp earth filled her nostrils. She loved that smell. It said “home” to her. But Jake’s home was elsewhere.

  She knew this was not a permanent relationship. She had hoped to hold him a little while longer, to build memories that she could take out and relive, one by one, long after he was gone. They lived in different worlds. She knew that, even if it seemed like he had taken to hers.

  She was a woman of the land, a woman who had always lived in the country, a woman who thrived when she could put her hands in the dirt and make something grow. In spite of her fantasies, she knew in her heart whatever they had together couldn’t last.

  Swallowing back tears, she abruptly got up and went back to the barn.

  Her phone, left on the workbench, beeped a message. She picked it up and headed back to the cabernet franc block, punching in her message code as she walked.

  “Hey, I have something to tell you. First, I’m headed back east for a meeting. Second, you’ve won—fair and square. I’m keeping the vineyard. I’ll sign the contracts when I get back.”

  Her knees weak, she sat on the ground. Her phone rolled into the dirt. She’d won. He wasn’t going to sell.

  Then why am I not jumping for joy? Was it the harvest that convinced him? Or was it last night?

  “I’m such a fool for wanting what I can’t have,” she said aloud to the vines in front of her, still green and vibrant in the bright sun. “I may not be able to keep Jake. But I still have you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Chenin blanc is a medium dry sipping wine with crisp melon and honey flavors, Good with Cornish game hen or Manhattan clam chowder or to replace a bad taste with a good one.”

  —from Paige Reynoso’s tasting notes

  It was a crisp September day in New York. Jake had gone straight to his office to be briefed by Kevin and to strategize his next move. Then on to his apartment to shave and change clothes. Now he was on his way to Philadelphia to meet with Sven Jorgensen, the new majority stockholder of Pantheon. He’d slept a little on the plane, but guilt gnawed at his gut, making him restless and irritable.

  I should have stayed away from her. I should have had more control.

  He’d replayed his actions over and over in his mind, like a reel from Groundhog Day. His treacherous feelings had run amok, and now he was paying for it. She had given herself to him freely, and all he could offer her was another tumble, at best.

  And you enjoyed it, too, didn’t you?

  “You don�
��t look so good, boss.” Carol was at the wheel, having insisted on driving. “Why don’t I pull over and you crawl in the back and get some sleep.”

  “If I wanted to sleep, I’d do it right here,” he grumbled.

  “Well, bite my head off.”

  “I’m sorry. I have to be sharp when that snake slithers into the room, and I’m not prepared. I have a lot on my mind.”

  He caught her slanting a glance at him. He knew he looked okay, if a bit tired. If clothes could intimidate, he’d have Jorgensen backed against a wall. He’d pulled out a dark gray Armani suit, white silk shirt, and blood-red tie. Today confidence had to ooze from his pores, even though he felt like a mouse in the sights of a cobra.

  If I’d come home sooner, I could have fought him over the chairmanship.

  “I still can’t believe how fast Sven Jorgensen gained control,” said Carol. “Kevin says he’s going to close down the Pantheon campus and lay off all those people, claiming the business is out of money.”

  “I know what he claims. It’s bogus. He can’t shut down a plant without a two-thirds vote of the Board of Directors. He may get to be Chairman now, but he sure as hell doesn’t own two thirds of the board. He knows it, too.”

  “Then why is he doing this, boss?”

  “I don’t know.” Jake shrugged and bent his head over the stack of papers lying precariously on his lap. Sven hated his guts, but why drag him all the way to Philadelphia when he knew he’d lose this one?

  Maybe he won’t lose. Maybe he has the votes.

  As he rubbed his eyes, a wave of vertigo washed over Jake. Please God, not now. He had to be able to think clearly. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, picturing Paige warm and tousled, cuddled up next to him. Maybe when he went back to Napa—correction, if he went back to Napa—he’d take her to the French Laundry for dinner, to celebrate her victory in convincing him to keep the estate.

  Who was he kidding?

  More than anything, he wanted to fly back to Napa, wrap his arms around Paige, and never let her go. If he was healthy, that’s exactly what he’d do. He’d watched her in growing fascination as she taught him about her work, her life, her passion.

  He loved her. Yes! He loved her. He wanted to shout it to the rooftops.

  And for that reason alone, he should never see her again.

  His chest suddenly tightened, cutting off air. He reached up and loosened his tie.

  At least she will have the vineyard.

  He’d only seen Kevin briefly, but he’d told him to find other properties to sell—all of them if necessary. His companies would survive without taking the vineyard away from Paige. He leaned against the headrest and closed his eyes, just for a moment, just long enough to ease the tightness in his neck.

  The car came to a stop, and Jake jerked in his seat, waking instantly. He must have dozed off and slept longer than he thought.

  “We’re here? I just closed my eyes.”

  “I guess you needed the sleep. The papers are on the floor.”

  Jake leaned down and scooped up the pile. He had not managed to read anything, but he hoped he knew enough without reviewing.

  “Pick me up in a couple of hours.” The door slammed, and he walked briskly toward the building, his back straight and his steps sure. He walked past the reception area and into the elevator, taking it to the third floor boardroom overlooking the river. He strode past the general manager’s office and directly into the conference room where the smell of freshly brewed coffee drew him. He grabbed a cup and sat down in the nearest chair. Sven wasn’t there yet, so he had time to get himself together. He rolled his shoulders and tried to relax.

  What could the jerk be up to? As if conjuring him up, Sven sauntered into the room and drew up a chair to the table, the ever-present retractable pen in his hand.

  “So you showed up?” His crooked smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “It was a command performance, wasn’t it… Something about closing a campus and laying off everyone?”

  “We have to cut corners where we can. If this company is downsized, we save money.”

  “And some of your own companies rise in value without competition.”

  “It’s simple economics, Jake.”

  “For you, maybe, but the rest of the board isn’t going to close down to line your pockets.”

  “They will if I offer to buy them out.”

  “Important products are developed here. You won’t get any support, Sven, even if you’re sitting at the head of the table. You might try to buy out a few more investors, but can you offer them enough to make them sell? I don’t think so.” His talk was firm, but his confidence was waning. Something was afoot…something he didn’t know about. Jake put his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, and stared directly at his nemesis.

  Jorgensen shifted his eyes away, cleared his throat, and looked back, the crooked smile stretched across thin lips, the tap, tap, tap of the pen the only sound in the room. Jake wanted to reach across and snatch it out of his hand.

  “There’s one small matter that could make all this go away,” he said, scraping back the chair and going to stand in front of the window, his back to Jake. “You could trade me that nice vineyard property you own in California for my Pantheon stock.”

  Jake stiffened. There was that offer again. More direct this time. No foreplay.

  Jake turned in his chair to look at Sven’s back. “Why do you want the vineyard?”

  Sven turned and looked directly at Jake, not attempting to hide his malice. “You sell me the vineyard, or people lose their jobs. This is a side deal between you and me, Jake. I’m going into that board meeting, and I’m calling for a vote to shut down, sell assets, lay off everyone. If you agree to my terms, I will have a ‘miraculous’ change of heart, will transfer my stock, and you can keep the place going.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Try me.”

  “Your Pantheon stock is far more valuable than Garnet Hill. You’re not making sense, Sven. Not even business sense.” Jake cocked his head and leaned forward, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t owe you a single explanation. Sell or we shut down.”

  “You’re that confident you have the votes? You can call a meeting for a shutdown and the rest of the board will support you? I don’t think so. They board will stick with me because they know we’ll start paying hefty dividends again.”

  “You were always good at pretty speeches, Jake. Did you know that Michaels has become a partner in one of my property ventures in Florida? Did you know Jablonsky is now part owner of my clothing franchises in Ohio? Do you still want to have this meeting today? I called it, and I can cancel it.”

  Jake fought nausea, and it wasn’t his disease. The vote was going to be close—very close. But he had to try and get the board to side with him, not Sven.

  “We have another ten minutes,” said Jake, looking at his watch. “I think I’ll go to the men’s room and wash off some of your stench before the meeting starts.”

  He strode out of the room, not stopping until he reached the hallway, exhaling the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. The room teetered, and he leaned into the wall.

  “Not now. Not now.”

  …

  Paige’s cell phone purred in her pocket. She had it turned off for her weekly Wednesday afternoon meeting with her crew in her small kitchen, but she pulled it out to glance at while Juan was speaking. It was Jake.

  Scraping her chair back from the table, she excused herself and stepped outside into the sunlight. Her heart was beating overtime, but she forced herself to sound calm and answered, a silly grin on her face. He called—finally.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” said Jake.

  “No. I was talking to the boys about spreading fertilizer, but it can wait. When are you coming back?”

  She knew she sounded eager and should tamp down her enthusiasm. When he left the message on her phone about keeping the estate
, she’d tried not to read too much into it. A tiny part of her hoped it meant there might be a relationship developing.

  “I need you to come to Philadelphia.”

  She stood absolutely still, the phone in her hand. His tone was curt, almost gruff. This wasn’t about their relationship. A cold feeling settled in her stomach.

  “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here. There’s a ticket waiting for you at the Oakland airport for a flight that leaves at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, your time. A car will be waiting for you to take you to your hotel.”

  “Just like that? No explanation. Get your butt on a plane and come to Philadelphia? I need more, Jake. Why am I going?”

  Paige fidgeted, standing on one leg, then the other. Nobody told her what to do without telling her why. Not even Jake Madison. Reality closed over her like a dunk in an unheated pool. This wasn’t about them. It was about the vineyard.

  “There’s been a change of plans. Bring your production records for the last three years and your new projections. I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby in the morning, and I’ll fill you in.”

  “No, Jake. Tell me now.”

  There was a pause. “I’m sorry, Paige.”

  He hung up.

  Paige gawked at the phone like it was an alien device and walked back inside, her dog at her heels. She sat down at the table, aware of Bay’s head in her lap. Absently she stroked his fur.

  “What’s wrong?” Sam spoke, but three pairs of eyes focused on her face. Tears stung her eyes, and she knew if she spoke, her voice would be unsteady, so she reached down and adjusted Bay’s collar, willing herself to pull together.

  “I don’t know. That was Mr. Madison. He wants me to go to Philadelphia tomorrow. Business. Fertilize according to the schedule we worked out, and I’ll probably be back in a couple of days. That’s all for today.”

  The trio got up and went outside, all three walking toward the barn. Paige stood at the door and watched them, the phone still in her hand. Nana Reynoso would say that bad feelings usually meant three roosters had crowed within hearing distance of one another, portending a change—and not a good one. He couldn’t be selling Garnet Hill after all, could he? No! But that’s what it sounded like. There’s been a change in plans. I’m sorry, Paige.