A week had passed since they’d pressed the frozen grapes and it was time to do the first racking. Or maybe the last. She didn’t want to add too much oxygen to the wine, but had no idea how many rackings would be necessary to get optimum flavors and essence, and a clear wine.
Her father had surprised her this morning with a coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts and her favorite Boston Cream treat. It was when her mouth was full that he’d told her about being in the red. Had she known the winery was losing money year after year, and that Ben had been called in to help them turn their business around, she probably wouldn’t have been such a pain in the ass.
Grumpy’s legacy could still be honored if they were smart about their changes. If Coastal Vines was going to stay afloat, she needed to get over her insecurities and build stronger connections with the other businesses in town.
Alexis siphoned the wine for a second time and left the barn, Hemsworth at her side. “Want to go for a ride, Hemmy?”
He barked an affirmative, his tail wagging in excitement. “You’ll have to stay in the car most of the time, so don’t get grumpy. Be a good boy and I’ll ask Hope for leftovers.” She scratched his head and opened the passenger side door for him.
Even with the seat set all the way back, he took up more space than she did. Alexis had tried to keep Hemmy in the back, but he’d stick his giant head in her face and lap at her neck the entire time she was driving, distracting her to no end. Sitting in the front, looking almost human, Hemmy behaved.
She slid behind the wheel and cranked up the heat, the gust of air blowing Hemmy’s dog hair throughout the car. “One of these days I’ll have a clean car.” But that would mean no dog. She’d take the hair, the drool, the occasional chewed up slipper over no Hemmy any day.
Their first stop was The Happy Clam. The lunch rush wouldn’t start for another hour, if you could call it that. Hope went from ten waitresses in the summer to two in the winter. But if ten families decided to eat around the same time, she’d be too busy to chat.
Alexis warned Hemmy to behave and jogged in to the restaurant. She found Hope bussing tables.
“Short staffed today? I thought I’d find you in the kitchen.”
“Slow day. I sent Mia home. Lucas is at the grill, and Marty is back-up. They’re working on inventory between customers.”
Even with Ben’s big plans, their town would still have its slow slumps, especially in winter. Which is what Alexis wanted. Maybe.
“Do you have a minute?” She and Hope had always been cordial to one another, even though they traveled in different packs. Or rather, Hope was social and Alexis stayed close to her vines.
“Let me drop these dishes off in the back. I’m assuming you want to talk about Ben Martelli?”
Just hearing his name brought a wave of heat across her cheeks. “Yeah.” She sat on a barstool and waited for Hope to come back.
While Alexis had played football, Hope cheered on the sidelines. And when Alexis stayed home to work after high school, Hope went to college. Only she came back at the end of her freshman year depressed and pregnant. No one knew who the father was. Or at least, the rumor mill didn’t.
Hope waited tables at The Happy Clam before she bought the business while her parents watched her daughter Delaney. She had to be eleven by now. Alexis hadn’t kept track. Single moms weren’t her social group. Heck, Alexis didn’t have a social group. Hope was more Grace’s type. Or at least, she had been back in high school.
“Coffee?” Hope stepped behind the bar and held up a full pot.
“Sounds good.”
She poured and slid a jar of sugar across the bar top. “Cream?”
“That would be great.” They stirred their coffees and sipped. “Thanks for this.”
“No problem. Tell me about Ben from Martelli Designs.”
Alexis ran through the revised plan, including Ben’s ideas for to-go picnic dinners, and catering events at the function hall.
“Sounds great in theory, but I’m not set up for that kind of operation. I’d need special dishes, ways to transport food, more hired hands.”
“There’s always someone looking for a job, but I didn’t think you were into the catering business.”
“No, but maybe someone else in town who likes to cook a lot? Helen and June might be, on a small scale. We can ask.”
“Other than that part, what’s your feeling on the big picture? The theme weekends?”
“I think it’s cool.”
“It would be pulling a lot of business away from Seaview Drive and bringing it up my way.”
Hope shrugged. “Yes and no. You’re the outing adventure; I’m where they come to sit and dine, have someone cook for them.”
“How does everyone else feel about it?”
The Happy Clam, because of its location and the abundance of food, was the real center of town. If you wanted to find out what was going on, someone at the restaurant, be it Hope or a patron, could tell you.
Yet no one knew much about Hope. She went to college in Connecticut and came back before her freshman year was over. And a few months later Delaney was born.
“I was kind of short with Martelli.” Hope opened a package of oyster crackers and handed them to Alexis. “In all fairness, I expected him to be all smarmy, but he was a real gentleman. And not in the way where he was trying to blow smoke, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” All too well.
“I listened to his pitch but pulled out my poker face. Told him I’d need to check in with you first. Coastal Vines is a staple around here. I wanted to make sure he was on the up and up, and that your family was welcoming. Word on the street is he’s spent a lot of time at your place. Even helped pick grapes in the middle of the night.”
“My parents want to adopt him. So does Hemmy.”
“And you?”
“I don’t need a brother.”
“Uh huh.” Hope smiled behind her coffee mug. “He’s hot.”
“Maybe.”
Hope laughed. “Honey, he is fine.”
“Yeah.” Alexis smothered her grin by shoving crackers in her mouth.
“So. You and Ben?” Alexis coughed, pieces of cracker flying everywhere. “I heard you two dined regularly.”
“Dined? Well, the man had to eat. But I wouldn’t say regularly.”
“He was here for four days. My resources tell me you had brunch at the Sunrise Diner.”
“Priscilla has a big trap.”
“Seafood with Willie.”
“He needs to get a life.”
“Dinner at the Seaglass Inn, and again at Sunrise on the Water. I haven’t heard news about any sleepovers.”
“There were no sleepovers.”
“Breakfast?” Hope’s eyes crinkled in mischief.
“Twice. With my parents at their house. But one of the times doesn’t count. It was the morning of grape picking.”
“I think he has a crush on you.” Hope picked up a rag and wiped the spotless counter.
“I think you’ve been hanging out with Priscilla too much.”
“So, this function hall,” Hope said, ignoring Alexis’s gibe, “it would be above the tasting room? Isn’t that your apartment?”
And that had been the crux of it all. She loved living there; being able to open her door and walk out to the fields. Watching the sunrise over the horizon, the day’s first ray of light shining through the morning fog. The vines stretching their arms to the golden ball in the sky, nourishing and fulfilling the grapes. The natural give and take of nature. It was all so…therapeutic.
Alexis set her coffee down and rested her elbows on the counter. “Yeah.”
“Will you stay at your parents’ place?” Alexis slumped. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I still live with my mom and dad. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“You guys are close?”
Hope nodded. “Now. Not at first. Not when I came home pregnant. I don’t know what I would have done without them. Mom has watched Delaney while I work, and has never missed a single dance recital or school play.”
“I’m pretty tight with my parents as well, but living with them? I don’t think so. We cross paths a little too often as it is.”
“Ty Parker was in today. Said you contacted him about starting the renovation project soon.”
“Seems any time I stop in here Ty Parker is lurking around.”
Hope tossed the dishrag in the sink behind her and held up the coffee pot. “Refill?”
“Avoiding the question?” Alexis laughed and held up her cup.
“No more than you avoided some of mine.”
“Touché.”
“Hey, we’re having a book club meeting on Thursday night. Want to come by?”
Those darn warm and fuzzies wrapped their arms around her again. She’d never been asked to be part of a group before.
“I haven’t read any books in a long time. I’m not sure what I can offer up.”
Hope swiped her hand through the air. “Nah. Don’t worry about it. It’s really just an excuse to hang out with the girls and drink wine. Everyone has their reasons for joining. For some, it’s the books.”
“I didn’t even know Crystal Cove had a book club.”
“Celeste Parker lets us use Books By The Ocean after hours as long as we clean up after ourselves. We used to meet during business hours, but you’ve seen Mia after three glasses of wine.” Hope laughed and drained her coffee.
No, Alexis hadn’t. She didn’t socialize with anyone in town. Or out of town. That’s what Grace did. Maybe Hope thought Alexis would be the same. But she wasn’t. The only time she’d felt comfortable was on the athletic fields in school. She didn’t have to worry about conversation or looking the part of a teenage girl. It’s where she was one hundred percent accepted.
That was high school. A long, long time ago.
And years didn’t do much to help her grow socially. It didn’t come naturally to her. Not with girlfriends or boyfriends. Heck, her track record was proof of that. Instead, she invested her time into her grapes. Her dog. They never looked at her the wrong way, told her she wasn’t like the other girls.
“Hey, are you okay?” Hope reached out and touched her arm in concern. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry. Sometimes my mouth runs, part of this business, talking with strangers. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Alexis shook her head and attempted to curve her lip in a meager smile. A stranger. That’s what Alexis was, even living in the community her entire life. Sure, everyone knew who she was, but she’d spent most of her life keeping to herself.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hope. I appreciate your kindness, but you don’t have to invite me to your group. It’s okay.” She stood and picked up her coat from the back of the chair. “I have Hemsworth in the car, so I should go anyway.”
“Hang on. I’ll see what I have out back.”
Of course she would. Hope was like that. Dealt a rough hand long ago and still trudged through with a smile on her face, and kindness in her heart. She returned with a Styrofoam container.
“I didn’t ask his preference, but he’s a big dog, right? I’ve seen him around. I packed a few meatballs for him.”
“Good thing you’re not hand delivering or he’s likely to kick me to the curb and move in with you.” Alexis took the box and thanked Hope.
“And for the record, it’s not my group, or Celeste Parker’s group, or Mia’s group, or anyone else who happens to show up on Thursday nights. It’s like what your friend Ben was saying. We’re a community here. People helping people. Neighborly love and all that. It’s an open door policy, and I know everyone would love to have you there. Think about it, okay? Seven o’clock.”
A real invite with no expectations. Hope didn’t ask her to bring anything or ask her for a favor. The sincerity in her voice touched Alexis, making her feel truly welcomed and wanted at the book group. She’d never had girlfriends before, never been part of a group other than a sports team.
She wasn’t asked as Grace’s sister or as a Le Blanc with wine connections. She was asked to be herself and join other women in some social time, possibly discussing books, to be a part of a community.
There was no need for a winter jacket this afternoon. Those warm and fuzzies were now wrapped around her heart.
Ben had been home for two weeks and still there were traces of Maine, traces of Alexis everywhere. The pocket warmers still in his coat. Hemmy’s hair on his black pants. A cork in his briefcase.
He’d spent last night at the Martevino guesthouse, and helped his sister and her husband, Jacob, with the morning duties around the family vineyard. To say Adrianna was surprised at his desire to wake up at the ass crack of dawn and check on the grapes would be an understatement. He’d come by the night before to visit his nieces, and shocked them all by agreeing to stay the night in the guesthouse instead of driving back to his condo in San Francisco.
Ben looked at everything differently since returning from his stay in Maine. The business trip had been more than he had expected. Hell, he hadn’t expected anything other than a few quick tips for a small business, maybe hit a ski a slope or two, and hightail it back home.
If that was how he was measuring success, he failed.
Epic fail.
Not only hadn’t he tested out the black Diamond trails at Sugarloaf or Sunday River, but the plan he presented on his first day was a total bust.
Most companies hired him because they wanted to bring in more business, make more money, expand, broaden their clients, their reach. When he’d talked to Shane over the phone last month he’d said he didn’t think his daughter would be on board with many changes. But Ben knew, or at least he thought he knew, once he flashed dollar signs in front of the family they’d be putty in his hands.
His parents had warned him about the Le Blanc’s traditional ways, but he thought he could sway them with dollar signs. Little did he know. His mom would be proud of his new design. Even with their seven-figure income, his parents appreciated small towns and family values.
With them in Italy, it had been hard to find time to talk. They’d been playing telephone tag since he’d come home two weeks ago.
With the sun on the horizon, and a long drive into the city, he hoped they’d be by their phone. Ben connected his Bluetooth in his Audi and dialed. If California didn’t have so many people he could make the drive to San Francisco in two hours. Unfortunately, traffic was a bitch, especially on a Friday morning with everyone heading into the city for work.
He cranked up the air conditioner, the icy air nowhere near as frigid as what blew in his face in Maine. Picking grapes at three in the morning, with his fingers half numb, his toes completely numb, eyelashes frozen together in lumps like he’d seen on girls who caked on too much mascara, and the wind taking his breath away was an experience he’d never forget. At the time he hadn’t felt the cold, too enamored with Alexis and the pride that radiated off her body. It warmed him to the core. It wasn’t until he looked back that he remembered the frigid temperatures and frozen body parts.
It wasn’t the cold that stayed with him though, but the image of fierce and petite Alexis treating each grape as a delicate piece of glass, every vine as a gift from God, her smile wide as the Atlantic, and eyes as dark and sexy as his Audi.
No, he couldn’t compare her to his car. Sure they were both powerful, beautiful, and strong on the outside, and soft, smooth, and sexy on the inside, but Alexis had personality where his car was the same as the next fancy import. A different package on the outside, maybe the handful of bells and whistles varied, but a car was a car.
And Alexis was more than just another woman. She wouldn’t have been on his radar had he seen her walking down the road, or if she’d stopped in for a tasting one weekend while he was helping out at Martevino.
Ben slid on his shades and backed down the gravel driveway, noting the dry landscape. The vineyard stretched as far as the eye could see, and was beautiful in its own right. A different kind of beauty than the acres of naked, snow-covered vines in Coastal Vines. Green cacti and crushed rock lined his walkway and driveway, unlike the lush green trees and blueberry bushes he’d seen pictures of at the Le Blanc’s that would fill their acreage in the spring and summer.
And fall. He’d seen pictures of New England in September and October, and could only imagine what the landscape would look like with the bursts of reds and oranges against the bright blue sky and endless ocean.
Taking in his surroundings again, Ben hit the Call button before pulling out onto his road, and adjusted the volume in the car while he waited for his mother to pick up.
“Benito? Finally, you call your mother. You did mean to call, yes? This isn’t…what do you people call that…seat dialed me, did you?”
Ben snorted. “Butt dialed. And yes, I intentionally called you. I’ve been working late and it’s the middle of the night in Italy when I get home.”
“Nonsense. You can call me any time. No son should take three weeks in between calling his mother.”
“We’ll see if you feel the same way when it’s three in the morning.” His mother hmphd and Ben smiled, picturing her stirring red gravy at the stove, his father reading the paper at the table.
“Things went well with Shane and Claudia Le Blanc? They are a nice couple, yes? They reminded your father and me of us when we were younger.”
“You don’t have too many years on them.”
“They are good people. You helped them not lose their winery? They spoke so highly of their work. Of their daughters. The bills are piling up and income is not good.”
His mother chattered about their vineyards in Italy, gave him a thorough report of the thorough report his younger brother Eamon already gave them last week, lectured Ben on his time away from Martevino, and asked him the usual. When was he going to settle down and give her grandchildren?
Ben cringed, his protein shake churning bitterly in the pit of his stomach, reminding him of responsibilities he had no desire to be responsible for.
When her dinner was ready, she allowed Ben to end the call. He turned the music louder, anything to drown out the guilt that crashed down on him.
If Felicia wasn’t a big deal, then why hadn’t he mentioned the situation to Alexis? When he avoided his identity the first time they met it wasn’t because he wanted to keep anything from her. It was because he wanted to continue their conversation.
His avoidance of the Felicia matter was the same. If she knew, she wouldn’t want to spend any more time with him. She wouldn’t have given him a chance, if that was what he could even call what was happening between them.
There was no doubt he was a total ass. Lying, however, was a new thing for him. Not something he was proud of. Even if it was lying by omission. He knew he should have told Alexis about Felicia, only how would he start that conversation? It wasn’t like they were still dating. Felicia hadn’t been part of his life for some time.
Yet she’d be entering it again real soon.
He turned on his blinker and merged into traffic, heading south toward the city. The tall buildings, the rush of people either on the sidewalk or on the road, the entertainment, restaurants, and many cultures and diversity used to appeal to him. Ben didn’t know when all that changed.
The traffic on Eighty was at a standstill. Some commuters took advantage of the stopped traffic and were breaking California state law by talking on their phones without the hands-free mode, and a few idiots texted. He’d traveled a hundred miles in an hour and a half, and the last leg of twenty miles would take over an hour.
There were studies and data showing how many hours commuters wasted sitting in traffic. Hours Ben could be spending on the computer, designing a marketing plan. Or better, in the sunshine—whether it be cold or hot, he didn’t care—taking in the landscape, breathing in the scents of nature, of his crops, even of animals. Something only a farmer would appreciate.
Was he a farmer, or was he a businessman? For the past ten years he worked hard to put the farmer life behind him, to expand his horizons, to make his own path instead of taking the one laid out for him, even if it was a profitable one. At thirty-three, he was proud of all he’d accomplished.
Ben didn’t want to gain his success by inheriting it, and he was proud of Martelli Designs. He started his business from the ground up, similar to his ancestors in Italy, and his parents in Napa. He was proud of his family and not ashamed to come from success; it was his own stubborn pride that wanted to prove he could do something else if he wanted.
And he did.
Traffic continued to crawl and Ben navigated his Audi through downtown until he got to his street. Hitting the garage door opener, he waited for the door to lift and slowly pulled in. Once he unloaded his briefcase and gym bag from the car, he made his way inside his condo, taking in its stark, open space.
His cleaning lady came twice a week, although once was probably enough. Ben wasn’t around enough to make much of a mess. Home in time to eat his take-out dinner at the counter and watch highlights on ESPN while working on his laptop on the couch. That was his life.
When he didn’t work late he’d take a woman out to dinner, spend a few hours at her place, and then return home.
Alone. On rare occasions he’d ask a woman to come back to his place. Very rare.
Ben opened his fridge and wasn’t surprised with its contents. An expired carton of orange juice, yogurts that should have been tossed before his trip to Maine, and a few rotting apples.
Changing into running shoes and shorts, he went for a jog, picking up a few items at the corner store on his way home.
After a quick shower, Ben made an omelet and toast, and fired up his laptop, working on his presentation for the Wilder Foundation. Once past the city walls of San Francisco, there were thousands of acres of desert and mountains and wildlife.
The Wilder Foundation needed a revamp on their website to gain more financial support in saving the wildlife, and he had some pretty good ideas on how to market the foundation, without going over budget. His specialty.
Enjoying the peace and quiet of his condo, the only noise coming from the typing on his laptop, Ben swore when the doorbell chimed, breaking his workflow. He got up and peered out the window.
A candy apple red Mini Cooper sat in his driveway.
He cursed again.
Felicia.
He’d dodged her calls, her texts, her emails, but it was hard to dodge her pregnant body. Especially when the baby she was carrying was his.