Susan Mallery - Seductive One

“Mia, you have to listen. I know it looks bad-”

“Go to hell, Nic. The world would be a better place without you.”

She hung up.

He carefully replaced the receiver, as if by moving slowly he could keep his life from shattering. But it was already too late.

He’d lost.

Owning Marcelli Wines had driven him for years. Now he’d lost his chance. Funny how that barely troubled him at all. What had kept him up last night, what haunted him now, was knowing that he’d lost Brenna. He hadn’t even known that he’d had her, or how much he needed her, and now she was gone.

“I mean this in the nicest possible way, Nic, but you look like crap.”

Nic looked up as Maggie walked into his office. She tossed several folders onto his desk, then leaned against the door frame.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked.

Talk? What was there to say? It had been nearly two days of hell as he tried to figure out how to fix everything that had gone wrong.

“Nic?”

He shrugged. “Brenna found out.”

He braced himself for the sympathy and kind words. They wouldn’t help. Nothing filled the empty crater growing inside of him. Nothing offered relief, or better yet, a solution.

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “So?”

He stared at her. “What do you mean, so? She found out. She won’t speak to me. I haven’t seen her and I can’t get her on the phone.”

“I don’t see the problem. You knew she would find out eventually, and you had a good idea she wouldn’t be happy, so why is this a shock?”

He narrowed his gaze. “I guess you’re not taking my side in this.”

“Why would I? I told you I thought it was a bad idea from the beginning. From what I could tell, you and Brenna were getting pretty tight. You were more interested in her than in anyone I’ve seen you with ever. But you didn’t want her as much as you wanted the win. Now she’s hurt and angry. I’m still confused. Why is this a surprise?”

“I’ve lost her.”

“I didn’t know you had her.”

He nodded. “Me, either. Until it was too late. The Marcelli deal is off, too.”

Maggie didn’t even pretend to look sorry. “Speaking as a friend, and not your employee, I have to tell you, you earned this, Nic. You can’t play with people’s lives and not expect there to be ramifications. You got caught and now you have to pay.”

He didn’t want to hear this. He wanted her to say things would work out fine. He wanted her to tell him that Brenna would understand.

“She said she loved me,” he told her.

That got a reaction. Maggie dropped her arms to her sides and stared at him. “I’m guessing that was before she knew what you were trying to do.”

He nodded.

“You are so screwed.”

“No. If she loves me, she has to forgive me.” He hated the hopeful, pleading tone in his voice. “Doesn’t she?”

Her expression softened. “It doesn’t work like that. Haven’t you figured it out yet? Loving someone doesn’t mean it’s always okay. Some acts are simply unforgivable. I’m sorry, Nic, but I have a bad feeling you’ve committed one of them.”

Forty-eight hours later Brenna knew she had to drag herself down to the winery or spend the rest of her life in bed. As her sheets desperately needed washing almost as much as she needed a shower, she forced herself to get up and dressed. One of the Grands snuck in while she was in the bathroom and stripped the bed, which left her no choice but to venture out into daylight. From there it was a short walk to her cramped office in the winery.

The battered old desk was both comforting and familiar. The stack of mail and messages needing response gave her a sense of purpose, even though she still felt as if she were moving under water. Everything was slow and out of sync. Still, she sorted her phone messages into tidy piles. There weren’t any from Nic. Had he not called or was she not being told?

Did it matter? Why did it matter? The man had used her in every way possible while lying to her. Did she really care if he’d called? Was she that weak and spineless?

Yes, she thought sadly. She was.

But she was also really, really mad.

It wasn’t just that he didn’t love her back. She could accept that. Feelings existed for reasons no one could explain. So Nic not loving her wasn’t anyone’s fault. But the man had screwed with her future. He’d played with the one thing she’d loved even longer than him and there had to be something like a suitable punishment. Nobody messed with her wine and got away with it.

There was only one problem-the money. Circumstances being what they were, she doubted Nic was going to let her have access to her barrels. Which meant she couldn’t produce wine, which meant never paying him back. She was trapped, all because she’d trusted Nic.

Worst of all, because there was something uglier than the situation with the wine, she didn’t know how to stop loving him. Oh, she hated him with every fiber of her being, but for how long? And when she got over hating him, wouldn’t the love return? It had lasted through ten years of separation; why would she be lucky enough to have it end now?

Her grandfather appeared at her open door. “You’re here,” he said as he entered. “Better?”

“Some.”

A white lie, she told herself. Telling him about her pain would only make him hurt, too, and what was the point in that?

He took the seat in front of her desk and pointed to a pad of paper. “I want you to make a list for me. Outline everything you have at Wild Sea. How many barrels, what is in them.” He frowned. “You’re through fermenting, aren’t you?”

“I assume you mean the wine and not me personally.”

Her grandfather smiled. “Yes. The wine. Also, give me your copy of the loan.”

“Why?”

“No Marcelli will be beholden to that man.”

His kindness eased some of her pain. “You’re being really sweet, Grandpa, and I appreciate that. But we’re talking about over a million dollars.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “You’re my granddaughter. The loan will be paid back with interest, and your wine will be moved here as soon as possible.”

He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d broken into a chorus of “Oklahoma!”

“Why?” she asked. “I’m happy and thrilled beyond words. But this isn’t your responsibility. I’m the one who messed up. Nic will probably just dump the wine anyway. Not that it matters now.”

He glared at her. “Don’t tempt God to strike you down. The wine must be saved.”

“I think God’s a little busy with more important matters.” She tried to explain. “I may not have a choice about the loan. Nic will have to be paid back one way or the other, and without Four Sisters, I don’t have a prayer of doing it myself. As for my plans…” She looked at him. “Grandpa, I love you and you’ve been terrific through all of this, but you hate everything I do. Why would you want my experiments here?”

“I don’t hate what you do.”

She smiled for the first time in days. “Oh, please. We argue about everything. The blends, the day to start harvest, the temperature for fermentation. Label designs, pay raises, if it’s going to rain tomorrow.”

“I’m usually right about the weather.”

She gave a strangled laugh. “You think you’re right about everything. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to start my own label. I wanted to make all the decisions.”

“Were you happy doing that?”

She thought about the long nights and the endless hours of work. “Yes. Happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Then you have succeeded.”

“Not exactly the word I would use.”

“Not with your winery. The success of that will be measured later. I mean here. With me.” He watched her as he spoke. “You have passed the test.”

Brenna didn’t understand. “What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to be sure. When you were little, I knew you were the one. You loved the vines as much as I did.” He tilted his head. “By the time you were six, you could tell the type of grape by taste alone. I was so proud. You worked hard. Always up early, especially during harvest. When you were eleven, you were directing the men.”

Brenna remembered that summer. She’d been in charge of the Chardonnay grapes, and she’d felt so grown-up. The foremen had patronized her until they realized she knew what she was talking about, and then they’d treated her as someone to be reckoned with.

“When you married Jeff, I was pleased,” he said. “You would have a good man at your side while you worked the land.”

“But it didn’t turn out that way,” she reminded him. “I went away.”

He nodded. “I waited for you to return, for you to realize where you belonged, but you didn’t. Year after year I watched your husband bleed the life out of you until the granddaughter I had been so proud of disappeared. Then one day you came home. Not because you longed to be here, but because your husband had left you. You wanted to come back. To work here. But I asked myself, for how long now?”

Understanding clicked in her brain like a light going on. “You wanted to make sure I was staying,” she whispered.

“Yes. So I tested you to see if I could drive you away. I wanted to make sure that this time you wouldn’t give up. Not for anything.”

She both understood and resented his methods. “What about Joe? You offered him everything.”

“I did, but he would never have run things. I hoped…” He sighed. “An old man’s wishes. I wanted him to stay, and I thought with the winery, he would. But he would never have been the one. It was always you.”

She shook her head. “You were never going to sell.”

His expression turned sly. “You think not?”

Brenna covered her face with her hands. “Of course you wouldn’t. Oh, God. One more place I’ve been an idiot.” She put her hands back on the desk. “If worse came to worst, you would have left everything to Dad and had him hire a manager. After all, one of your granddaughters could have a child interested in the winery.”