there. She gave a shrug. “I’m aware your family knows how to run one. I’ve no proof you can.”
“Well, that puts us on even footing, doesn’t it, since I’ve yet to taste any wine you’ve made.” For a second their eyes met. He was looking at her—for once really looking at her—and the effect was just as powerful as she’d imagined. She found herself lost in the dazzling blue, as deep as any sea.
Her heart began to hammer against the walls of her chest.
A stranger’s voice broke the spell Reid had cast so effortlessly. “ ’Scuse me.”
Mia jerked her gaze away from Reid’s. The speaker was one of the women who’d been in the corral with her when Reid had done his rope trick, the one with the scarily tight jeans and improbably large breasts.
The woman reached out and grabbed Reid’s arm. The tips of her fingers ended in bright-red claws. “I hate to butt in,” she said with a smile as aggressive as her talons, “but you’ve been gettin’ a lot of attention from this here cowboy. It’s our turn now.”
From across the room Mia heard the now familiar “Woo-hoo!” as a group of women cheered on their friend. A glance at Reid’s face showed that his easy grin was in place. He didn’t look at all upset to be leaving her.
So maybe Reid and she had reached some kind of détente. So maybe he had actually looked her in the eye for once. So maybe a smile had flitted across his face. That didn’t change the essentials. He was still a womanizing cowboy.
T HOMAS HAD PROTESTED . Mia had insisted, arguing that the drive was nothing, a straight two-hour shot. For once Mia got her way. But, as if to rub her nose in it, the traffic to San Francisco International Airport, was, as Thomas had predicted, as unmoving as a clogged drain.
The conversation between them eked out in fits and spurts, with as much being quashed by Mia as voiced. Thomas burbled with excitement.
“Reaching me might be tricky for the next few weeks. Pascale has some friends with a yacht, and we’re going to cruise around the Mediterranean and explore Corsica. There are wild pigs in the hills. At night we’ll dine on board on grilled sardines, olives, tomatoes, peasant bread, and Corsican rosé. Then we’ll continue to the Greek Isles.”
“And if there’s an emergency?”
“I suppose you can try my cell. I just don’t know how good the reception will be. The best bet is the Knowleses.”
Tightening her fingers around the steering wheel, she glanced sideways at Thomas. She understood he was inlove. But did he realize how easily he was cutting his ties to the vineyard, to her, and how much that hurt?
Thomas was still talking, saying something about his complete faith in Roberto and Paul and how Leo and Johnny were good, responsible kids and meticulous about keeping the winery clean as a whistle. They were young, but they loved the wine they helped make. His tone changed, however, becoming tinged with brittle cynicism, when he mentioned her cousin. “If you ever hear from Jay, do let him know my whereabouts.”
She took her eyes off the road, even though other drivers were doing wild and crazy things on I-380. “I thought you’d called him.”
“I did. I left three messages on his cell. Four seemed a shade superfluous. None of my calls were returned. It’s possible he didn’t understand that I was leaving today—more likely he saw no reason to get in touch, since I’d already arranged the money transfer. I should have insisted he contact me so I could outline the terms of the financial settlement and only then deposit his share. But old habits die hard.”
She thought back to the trip Thomas and she had made to Ukiah yesterday to visit Donald Polk, Thomas’s accountant and lawyer. They’d needed her signature on the four copies of the contract Thomas and the Knowleses had negotiated.
The pages of legalese outlining the terms had made her head swim. But Don Polk had answered her questions, so she now knew the
“Well, that puts us on even footing, doesn’t it, since I’ve yet to taste any wine you’ve made.” For a second their eyes met. He was looking at her—for once really looking at her—and the effect was just as powerful as she’d imagined. She found herself lost in the dazzling blue, as deep as any sea.
Her heart began to hammer against the walls of her chest.
A stranger’s voice broke the spell Reid had cast so effortlessly. “ ’Scuse me.”
Mia jerked her gaze away from Reid’s. The speaker was one of the women who’d been in the corral with her when Reid had done his rope trick, the one with the scarily tight jeans and improbably large breasts.
The woman reached out and grabbed Reid’s arm. The tips of her fingers ended in bright-red claws. “I hate to butt in,” she said with a smile as aggressive as her talons, “but you’ve been gettin’ a lot of attention from this here cowboy. It’s our turn now.”
From across the room Mia heard the now familiar “Woo-hoo!” as a group of women cheered on their friend. A glance at Reid’s face showed that his easy grin was in place. He didn’t look at all upset to be leaving her.
So maybe Reid and she had reached some kind of détente. So maybe he had actually looked her in the eye for once. So maybe a smile had flitted across his face. That didn’t change the essentials. He was still a womanizing cowboy.
T HOMAS HAD PROTESTED . Mia had insisted, arguing that the drive was nothing, a straight two-hour shot. For once Mia got her way. But, as if to rub her nose in it, the traffic to San Francisco International Airport, was, as Thomas had predicted, as unmoving as a clogged drain.
The conversation between them eked out in fits and spurts, with as much being quashed by Mia as voiced. Thomas burbled with excitement.
“Reaching me might be tricky for the next few weeks. Pascale has some friends with a yacht, and we’re going to cruise around the Mediterranean and explore Corsica. There are wild pigs in the hills. At night we’ll dine on board on grilled sardines, olives, tomatoes, peasant bread, and Corsican rosé. Then we’ll continue to the Greek Isles.”
“And if there’s an emergency?”
“I suppose you can try my cell. I just don’t know how good the reception will be. The best bet is the Knowleses.”
Tightening her fingers around the steering wheel, she glanced sideways at Thomas. She understood he was inlove. But did he realize how easily he was cutting his ties to the vineyard, to her, and how much that hurt?
Thomas was still talking, saying something about his complete faith in Roberto and Paul and how Leo and Johnny were good, responsible kids and meticulous about keeping the winery clean as a whistle. They were young, but they loved the wine they helped make. His tone changed, however, becoming tinged with brittle cynicism, when he mentioned her cousin. “If you ever hear from Jay, do let him know my whereabouts.”
She took her eyes off the road, even though other drivers were doing wild and crazy things on I-380. “I thought you’d called him.”
“I did. I left three messages on his cell. Four seemed a shade superfluous. None of my calls were returned. It’s possible he didn’t understand that I was leaving today—more likely he saw no reason to get in touch, since I’d already arranged the money transfer. I should have insisted he contact me so I could outline the terms of the financial settlement and only then deposit his share. But old habits die hard.”
She thought back to the trip Thomas and she had made to Ukiah yesterday to visit Donald Polk, Thomas’s accountant and lawyer. They’d needed her signature on the four copies of the contract Thomas and the Knowleses had negotiated.
The pages of legalese outlining the terms had made her head swim. But Don Polk had answered her questions, so she now knew the
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