Once Tasted: A Silver Creek Novel by Laura Moore Page A

basics of the partnership. She was manager of the vineyard and winemaker, Reid its marketing and administrative director. In return for the money the Knowleses invested in the winery, they would receive 40 percent of its profits. Mia would earn a salary in addition to a 30 percent share. Thomas would receive 20 and Jay 10 percent. Thanks to the Knowleses, Thomas had been able to withdraw a lumpcapital sum in order to live comfortably in France and a slightly smaller one—but still princely—for Jay.
    Mia hoped the cash infusion and the 10 percent cut would satisfy him. She preferred to avoid her cousin. Contact with him left her feeling dirty.
    The exit off I-380 with its sign for SFO was approaching, and as they drove the next couple of miles she stared ahead, hating the signs directing travelers to the different terminals.
    She flicked the turn signal and eased into the exit lane for the parking garage.
    “What are you doing, Mia? You need to go straight.”
    “The exit for the garage is—”
    “We don’t have time to search for a parking space. The flight leaves in two hours, and I have bags to check. Drive to the international terminal and drop me off. I’ll get a skycap to help me with the bags.”
    Mia jerked the wheel to get out of the exit lane and was rewarded with an angry blare of a horn. The driver whizzed by her and gave her the finger. Charming.
    “Careful, Mia,” Thomas cautioned. “I don’t want to miss my flight.”
    She drew a breath and debated pointing out a tiny fact to her uncle: She’d never been in an accident in her life. But then she decided that silence was golden.
    She pulled up to the curb at departures and jumped out of the truck. Thomas was already at the back, unloading his cases. “I’ll go park and meet you at the check-in.”
    “No need for that, Mia. Let me say farewell here, my girl, so you can get on your way.” He lined up his suitcases in a row and enfolded her in a hearty hug.
    “Thomas, I
want
to come in with you.”
    “But why? You have another two-and-a-half-hour drive back. Maybe longer. It’s rush hour now.”
    “I’ll be fine. It doesn’t matter.”
    “But don’t you have a date tonight? It’s with Andrew, right?”
    Dreading the prospect of returning to an empty house and eating dinner alone, she’d called Andrew Schroeder on Sunday and suggested they get together. They were to meet at Aubergine, the restaurant in Sonoma they both liked. The reservation was for eight o’clock, which gave her ample time to get there. Now she wished she hadn’t made the date or mentioned it to Thomas. “Yes, I’m seeing him,” she admitted reluctantly.
    “Well, then,” Thomas said, “go have fun before you’re both too busy with your harvests to have any at all.” He hugged her again and kissed both her cheeks. Then he stepped back and gave her a tender smile. “I love you, Mia.”
    Her own smile was fierce, beating back her sadness. “I love you, too. Have a safe trip. Call me when you can. And, Thomas—” She paused and swallowed her pain. “Be happy.”
    “Thank you, darling.” With a jaunty wave, he picked up his bags and deposited them onto the metal cart. “Air France,” he said to the porter, before turning to Mia with a final smile.
“Au revoir, ma belle.”
    “Au revoir,”
she echoed hollowly.
    Mia sat toying with the wax drippings at the base of the candlestick. She’d begun fiddling with the wax as a way to keep herself from finishing the bowl of roasted chickpeas the waitress had placed at her table, or from drinking her glass of Zinfandel too quickly, or, worse yet, from checking her watch again.
    Andrew was almost thirty minutes late. She’d called as soon as she arrived and left a message on his voice mail that she was at the restaurant. Her cell was on the table, set to vibrate, but it had yet to come alive andshiver across the polished dark wood. Perhaps he’d received her message just as he was starting out and hadn’t wanted to