Chapter Fourteen

The day after Camille had fired Cesare for stealing, Maxine walked into Camille’s office and sat down as though nothing had happened. Camille was wondering if Maxine knew Alexandre had tried to rape her the night before, but her face gave nothing away.

“I have an idea,” she said blithely, as though she and her stepdaughter were best friends, which was hardly the case, after the experiences of recent weeks. “You need a new vineyard manager, and Alex is very excited about the wine business and wants to learn more about it. I know how you feel about hiring illegals, but with his student visa, what about hiring him as an intern as vineyard manager, and he could step into the role officially once we can get him a green card. I hear they’re easier to get for agricultural workers,” she said and obviously had something up her sleeve. Camille had begun to know her better. She always had an agenda for whatever she did. It was never a simple project, but always a plot with a benefit to her at the end of it. She wasn’t sure what this one was.

“I can’t hire him as vineyard manager, even as an intern,” Camille said, sounding as tired and worn out as she felt. She had so much to learn herself about running the entire business and having all the responsibility, while trying to defend herself from Maxine and her sons. Gabriel was harmless, he was either drunk, driving too fast, or in bed with someone. Alex was far more dangerous and did his mother’s bidding. “He doesn’t have the experience,” she explained, “and I can’t put an intern in one of the most important jobs we have. It takes years of experience in the field to manage a vineyard. Cesare was dishonest, but he knew his job, which is why my father kept him for as long as he did. And how are you proposing to get Alex a green card?” Camille inquired, curious about how her stepmother thought she could pull that off. It took years to get a green card, and the only fast way to get one was to marry an American, and he wasn’t dating any that she knew of. She shuddered thinking of his drunken advances of the night before. And what if he had trapped her and succeeded? It was a frightening thought.

“You two might become close one day,” Maxine suggested. “You’re almost the same age, and he’s a gorgeous boy. You need a husband to help you run this place, and he needs an American wife to stay in this country to help him get ahead.” She had it all worked out except for the fact that he was a crook and a slimeball, and had almost raped Camille. Her knee still hurt, and had been bandaged by Simone again that morning before she left her cottage.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Camille said quietly, not wanting to provoke her fury, nor to become their victim. “And what do you get out of that?” she asked her directly, since that was clearly part of the deal.

“Oh, I’m sure we’d be able to figure something out, a little gift to your mother-in-law.” So Maxine would get money, Alex a green card and a rich wife, and whatever else she would be willing to give him, and Camille would get a crook as a husband, who was marrying her for her father’s money, and the mother-in-law from hell. What a deal!

“I don’t think mixing family and business is a good idea. That’s not going to happen, Maxine. When are the boys going back to France?” And then she added, “I could tell the police about last night.” Maxine ignored her and went on.

“They’re in no hurry. Alex has his student visa now, and I’m going to be here to help you until June of next year. We have lots of time to figure things out,” she said breezily and then informed Camille she was going to start entertaining again, as she had when Christophe was alive, and had wanted to do more of. “Just some little dinners at the château with people I’ve met in the Valley.” If she had loved her father, Camille couldn’t imagine her wanting to entertain yet. But in Maxine’s world she was out of a job, and she had to move on to the next husband. It was exactly what Sam had said about her. And she wanted a big fish. She had landed a big fish with Christophe, but bad luck had struck again, even though he was half the age of her previous husband.

She didn’t say she was going to invite Camille to her dinner parties, just warning her that they were going to happen. “And of course, I’m organizing the Fourth of July party for the winery.” Camille could imagine what that would cost them, like the extravagant Christmas party her father had let her do. But if it kept the peace between them, she was willing to sacrifice the money again, although it irked her to spend so much on a party, just so Maxine could show off and say she had. “I’ve already started on it,” she said as she got up. “I think we should have fireworks like the Marshalls have at their masked ball. He comes to all your parties, of course, since he and your father were so close.” As she said it, Camille understood her agenda on that one. It was Sam Marshall she wanted, and always had, the biggest, richest, most successful vintner in the Valley, more so than even Christophe. Sam Marshall was the prize. Camille knew it wouldn’t get that far. But she could try. It would keep her off Camille’s back while she worked on landing a rich husband again. It was a career move for Maxine. Camille was still thinking about it after Maxine left her office. Camille’s words about calling the police hadn’t been lost on Maxine, although she had appeared unconcerned. She went to Alexandre when she got back to the château and found him tinkering with Christophe’s Aston Martin in the garage.

“What happened last night?” she asked him with her eyes blazing. “What did you do to her?” she shrieked at him, since there was no one around to hear her.

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I paid her a visit but I had too much wine before I went.” He looked unconcerned. “She ran away.”

“Did you rape her?” she asked him bluntly.

“I would have.” He grinned at his mother. “I didn’t get that far. She runs faster than I do.”

“For Christ’s sake, can’t you seduce her without violence?” He shrugged and got back in the car, and Maxine stormed into the house.

Three weeks later to the day, Maxine gave her first dinner party at the château, for sixteen people, catered by Gary Danko again. Camille saw the valet parkers and the Bentleys, Rollses, and Ferraris arriving, as she walked between Simone’s cottage and her little barn. Her father had been dead for less than three months, and everything in Camille’s life had changed. She was an outcast from her own home, and her father would have been horrified that she was living in the old horse barn, but she was almost used to it by now. It didn’t matter, she knew she’d have the château back in a little more than a year. And she didn’t want to live under the same roof with them. She’d had locks put on all her doors and windows and kept a shrill whistle under her pillow and a baseball bat next to her bed ever since Alex had tried to rape her.

The parties continued at the pace of one every two weeks, and Maxine invited her sons to dinner, but never Camille, who wouldn’t have gone anyway. The people she invited didn’t know her, so they didn’t ask where she was. They barely knew Maxine, but she had a talent for rounding rich people up for parties. Most of them always came, out of curiosity if nothing else.

And by May the audit on their books was complete. Cesare had been cheating them of about twenty thousand dollars a year, but it wasn’t as bad as Camille had feared, and she hadn’t heard from him since he left. She’d been told a rumor that he went back to Italy for a few months, and she hoped he stayed there. She didn’t want to see him again. That chapter was finished. The doors of Château Joy were closed to him forever, both professionally and personally.

Camille began working on new promotions again and decided to go after the bridal market, more aggressively than they had before, advertising the winery at Château Joy as the perfect spot for a wedding, with package deals, special rates, and fees that included photographers, videographers, florists, caterers, and transportation. It was a very important market, and she knew it could become a big money maker for them. She was already taking bookings for the following year. They had stepped up their social media dramatically to attract younger clients, and visitors to the Valley from all over the world. Camille was always thinking ahead to what she could do to grow their business. Her father had been more focused on the quality of their grapes, but she knew that was well established, so she concentrated on the business side, as her mother had. And in June she was able to hire a new vineyard manager she recruited in Bordeaux. She’d written to her cousins, and they strongly recommended him. And by some miracle, he’d been married to an American and had a green card. He flew over for an interview and she hired him immediately. He was young and smart and exactly what they needed. It was a relief to be rid of Cesare at last, and to have replaced him.

She was doing everything she could to protect her parents’ dream and what they had worked so hard on, to increase their business and move with the times, while maintaining the quality of their wine. The new vineyard manager, Francois Blanchet, was going to help her with that and they worked well together.

She turned twenty-four in June, and spent her birthday quietly with Simone, who made her a soufflé and hachis parmentier, which had become Camille’s favorite dinner. She had learned to love blood sausage too and ate it with gusto. Simone had made her a painting and told her she needed to get out more, but Camille said she didn’t have time.

And just after her birthday, Phillip dropped by to see her, at the office. He had appointments at a winery nearby that his father was thinking of buying, and he was doing due diligence for him. He said he was getting married in September, but that Francesca hated coming to the Valley, she was allergic to everything that grew there, even the grapes. He laughed when he said it and seemed confident she’d get used to it. He was anxious to know how Camille was doing, and happy to see her.

“Everything going okay here?” he asked her as they walked outside for a few minutes and sat down on a bench. She said she needed a break, and hadn’t even stopped for lunch. He knew she worked too hard, but thrived on it. And he admired how responsible she was.

“More or less,” she said in answer to his question, not wanting to say too much to him about her problems with Maxine, or sound pathetic. It had been a hard five and a half months since her father died, there was no denying that. “I only have another year of the stepmonster here with me. And the wedding business is speeding up.” Phillip nodded, always impressed by her dedication and focus on work.

It was hard for Phillip to believe that she was running the whole place now, without her father’s help. He didn’t think he could have done it himself at her age. At thirty-one, he wouldn’t have felt ready to take over if something happened to his father, let alone at twenty-four. She had grown up, particularly since her father’s death.

“Your stepmother’s not interfering too much?” he asked her with a look of concern.

“She did in the beginning,” Camille said carefully about Maxine, “but the winery bores her. Now she’s entertaining a lot, which keeps her busy. I think she’s looking for a husband.”

“That’s what my father says about her,” along with worse things. Sam hated her and everything she stood for.

They were talking about Maxine when Camille heard a familiar roar and looked up with a strange expression, as though she’d seen a ghost, and seconds later, Gabriel came racing down their drive in Christophe’s Aston Martin. No one had driven the car since he’d died. Gabriel squealed right up to them, put the car in park, and hopped out looking pleased with himself, as Camille stared at him.

“What are you doing driving that car?” He had already damaged it when he’d arrived in December. “And where did you get that jacket?” She looked at him, it was the beige suede fringed cowboy jacket that Christophe had loved and wore all the time.

“I found it in his closet,” he said with a supercilious look, since she no longer lived at the château and he did, and had access to her father’s clothes, which nearly ripped her heart out. “My mom said I could wear it.”

“Well, you can’t. Take it off, please,” she said, stretching her hand out for him to give it to her. She was so focused on Gabriel, she forgot Phillip was there.

“I’m not giving it back to you now,” he said angrily. “It’s cool. It’ll ruin my look if you take it now. I’ll put it back in the closet. What’s the big deal? He’s not going to wear it,” he said with a snide look. Camille nearly choked as she listened to him, and Phillip saw her face go pale.

“Please give it to me,” Camille repeated, “out of respect for my father.” She said it in a low rumble of a voice. She kept her hand outstretched, and Gabriel didn’t move. He just stood there, wearing the jacket that was too big for him anyway.

“I’ll give it back later,” he said petulantly, and headed toward the car again.

“You need to take the car back to the house, and leave it in his garage,” she said in a strong voice. Maxine and her sons had no respect for Christophe’s things, or anything that belonged to Camille now. They felt totally entitled to do whatever they wanted.

“Whatever,” he said, ignoring her, and as he was about to get into the car, Phillip took one step forward, stretched out a long powerful arm, grabbed him around the neck, and stopped Gabriel dead in his tracks. He looked at Phillip in panic. “Hey, that hurts,” he complained to the man who was bigger and older than he was, and had no intention of letting him disrespect Camille.

“You heard what she said, take off the jacket.”

“What’s the big deal about the jacket? It’s just an old suede jacket. We have better ones than this in France,” he said, pretending to look unimpressed by Phillip but Camille could see he was scared.

“Good. Then go home and buy one. Meanwhile give her back her father’s jacket.” Looking like an angry, petulant child, he took off the jacket and threw it at her. She caught it before it could hit the ground and get dirty.

“Thank you,” she said politely, visibly shaken by the incident.

“Now take the car back up the driveway and put it away,” Phillip added with a menacing look.

“I have to do errands for my mother.”

“Take one of the winery cars for that, not this one,” Phillip said sternly.

“What is it with you?” Gabriel complained. “Who made you king?”

“Well, he sure didn’t make you king.” Phillip was within an inch of hauling off and hitting him. Camille could see it in Phillip’s eyes and the tension in his jaw. One more word out of Gabriel and Phillip was going to lose his cool. It was stretched to the breaking point already. He hated to see a rude little shit like that bully Camille. “Are you going to take the car back, or am I?” Phillip was totally fed up with him, and in a last show of bravado, Gabriel threw the keys at him, and started to walk away.

“Do it yourself,” he said over his shoulder, as he headed for one of the vineyard vehicles, which he helped himself to whenever he wanted, without asking permission to drive them either. Even though he had damaged two of the cars already, Camille hadn’t made an issue of it.

Phillip looked at Camille with fury in his eyes. “How do you put up with those people? I was itching to kick his ass.” She smiled at the way he said it, but it was better that he didn’t. She didn’t want another battle with Maxine over her precious son who could do no wrong.

“I have to admit,” she said, grinning at him, relieved to have the car and jacket back, “I would have enjoyed it, but they probably would have sued you.”

“Let them. It would have been worth the pure pleasure of it, and avenging you. What a little jerk.” She couldn’t disagree. “Come on, I’ll put the car away with you.” He had things to do, but he didn’t want her to deal with it alone. The car was such a symbol of her father, he knew it was emotional for her. And she was carrying his jacket like the holy grail.

Phillip drove the car into Christophe’s garage, which Gabriel had left wide open. And Camille helped him put on the protective cover, which either Alexandre or Gabriel had left on the ground. Everything they did, and the way they did it, was an affront, with the example set them by their mother. But Maxine was subtle and more artful and polished than either of her sons, and more diabolical. Camille knew she ran the show.

“I’ll just drop the jacket off at the house,” she said apologetically, after they closed the garage door and she locked it with one of her keys. As she said it, Phillip started up the steps to the château. She stopped him with a hand on his arm and he looked at her in surprise. “I don’t live there anymore. At least not for now,” she said quietly, with some embarrassment and he looked stunned. He was the only person who knew now, other than Simone.

“What do you mean? Where are you living?” He assumed she was living in their château, where she had lived all her life, and which belonged to her now.

“Maxine fixed up a place for me in the back,” Camille said, humiliated to admit it, but it was the reality of her life here now, at Maxine’s hands.

“So who’s living in the house?” Phillip looked puzzled.

“Maxine and the boys,” she said quietly and led the way around the château, to the path in the back that led to the old barn.

“And you’re not in the house?” he asked as he followed her. She shook her head and he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “Are you kidding? What’s going on here? They put you out of your house, or did you want to move out?”

“No, I didn’t. She wanted my room for Gabriel, the one you just saw. She’s a force to be reckoned with. She’s a woman who’s used to getting what she wants.” They had reached the little painted barn then, and Phillip looked horrified as he walked into it with her, and she carefully hung her father’s suede jacket on a hanger. She was living on battered furniture like one of their vineyard workers, not the daughter of the house.

“Oh my God, Millie,” which was what he had called her when she was a little girl and he was a teenager. “How can you live here?” Seen through his eyes, she was embarrassed.

“I didn’t really have a choice. It wasn’t worth the battle with her, and it’s just for another year. To be honest, I feel safer here, away from the two boys.” He wasn’t sure what she was implying, but it sounded ominous to him.

“You’re going to freeze in the winter.” He looked furious as he gazed at her and as though he might cry. “You have to get them out of here.”

“I’m trying, but my father provided in his will for her to live in the château until I’m twenty-five, in another year. I can’t get her out till then, unless she wants to go.”

“But he didn’t mean for you to live in a shack, and her and her sons in your house. Do you even eat here? There’s no kitchen.” He was appalled, and worried about her now, more than he had been for the past six months. He had assumed she was all right, and he’d been busy himself. He felt guilty for it now, and wanted to help her, although he wasn’t sure how. He had assumed that Maxine was an annoyance, not that they had put her out of her home. He suddenly realized that Camille had no one to defend her from their abuse and disrespect.

“Her mother is wonderful. She put her in the cabin over there. It’s nicer than my barn, with a real kitchen. She cooks for me every night. Maxine doesn’t like her either.”

“Camille, this is insane.” He was going to talk to his father about it, but he didn’t want to tell her that. “When did she put you out of the house?”

“About three months ago. It was a little chilly then, but it’s fine now. They’re after money. Or at least Maxine is. She wants me to pay her off to leave. Otherwise she won’t go until the end of the term of my father’s will. So I’m sitting it out. I’m not going to pay her to go.” He was wondering if she should, but he didn’t want to ask her how much Maxine wanted for them to clear out. They were total crooks, his father was right, and taking full advantage of Camille. He admired her for dealing with it herself for all these months. It made him realize how strong she was and respect her all the more.

They walked back down the driveway and Phillip was quiet. He was thinking about everything he’d seen and heard, and the look in her eyes when she showed him the barn haunted him. She was his friend and he couldn’t bear anyone treating her like that. She had no one to protect her with her father gone. He was sure that his own father had no idea what she was going through. And like him, he had thought that she was fine. Technically, she was, but she was living a nightmare all alone.

“Are you coming to our Fourth of July party?” she asked to change the subject and he shook his head with regret.

“I can’t. Francesca’s parents have a house in Sun Valley, and I promised her I’d go with her. It’s a big deal to her, and she’s just not comfortable here yet.” Camille wondered how they would work that out when they got married. His whole life was here.

He chatted with her for a few more minutes, and then he had to leave for his appointment for his father. He stayed much longer than he meant to, between the confrontation with Gabriel, putting her father’s car away, and walking her to her little barn. He was shaken by his visit, but glad that he had come.

He went to the winery meeting and when he got home two hours later, he went to find his father immediately. He found him working in his office and walked in with a somber expression.

“I saw some really disturbing stuff this afternoon, and I want to tell you about it,” he said as he sat down across from his father, and Sam leaned back in his chair and looked at his son. It was obvious that Phillip was upset.

“At the winery you went to see?” He was hoping to make a deal there so Phillip’s comment wasn’t good news to him.

“No, I dropped by to visit Camille on the way. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“How is she?” Sam asked, with a look of concern.

“I’m worried about her, Dad. She’s living in some kind of a shed behind the house. She’s not living in the château, they are. That bitch her father married put her out of the house three months ago, and she’s living in a drafty little barn.” Sam frowned as he listened to him. “They use her father’s things. Maxine is trying to extort money from her in exchange for leaving. They treat her like Cinderella.” His father smiled at the comparison. “They’re taking gross advantage of her. Who are these people, and why are they getting away with it?” It didn’t seem right to him, and he couldn’t understand it.

“I’m not sure her father even knew who they are. I told him to run a background check on that woman and he was incensed. I would have in a hot minute. She has always seemed like an operator to me.”

“So are her sons.”

“Can you check up on them now? Maybe they have criminal records or something. I’m afraid they’re going to hurt her. There’s something very wrong there. I nearly punched one of them today for the way he treated her. He was driving Christophe’s car, the Aston Martin, and wearing his jacket, and she was almost in tears, trying to get them back.”

“Well, don’t go around punching anyone. That’s not going to help. I’ll try to make some inquiries. Chris was far too trusting, and he was snowed by her. She made a play for me when I met her before he did. She’d go for any guy with a bank account and a wallet. She’s a piece of work. I’ll see what I can find out. Maybe we can help Camille get rid of them.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Phillip said with feeling, and for the rest of the afternoon he thought about her, in the miserable little barn. What had she done to deserve that, just because her father had married the wrong woman? It broke his heart. He found himself thinking about her constantly, worried about her.

He was still bothered by it when he went to meet Francesca in Sun Valley a week later. Sam hadn’t heard anything from the international detective service he had hired to investigate Maxine and her sons. They had told him it might take a while. But Phillip called to check on Camille now. She was touched whenever he called her. It was nice to know that the protector of her childhood was still watching over her. And just like when they were growing up, he always made her feel safe, even if she wasn’t, with Maxine still around.