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“Your secret is safe with me,” Mabel says.
“What are we talking about?” Mom enters the kitchen. She looks tired—dark circles under her eyes and a somber vibe.
“Oh, uh…” I think fast. “I’m going over to Castle Sangria later to work on the new wine. I didn’t want Dad to get upset. I know he’s not a fan of Mr. Bozhidar.”
My mom swipes her hand through the air. “Your father just worries, that’s all.”
Mabel raises a brow. “I dunno, Mom. I’m going to side with Dad on this one. Something about that man feels off.”
“Like what?” I laugh. Everyone’s so paranoid. I don’t get it.
“Like…the way he looks at you,” Mabel says, widening her eyes comically. “Reminds me of a wolf sizing up a juicy lamb.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s just intense. Okay, and he’s a little eccentric.” But those eyes…they scream bedroom.
“Oh, and let’s not forget handsome,” Mom chimes in with a swooning effect to her voice.
“Whatever, I have to get ready for work,” Mabel says.
Mabel has a summer job at the small French bistro down the road, working in the kitchen.
“Have fun,” Mom says to Mabel. She turns to me. “And you don’t have too much fun.”
I shake my head.
My mom waits until Mabel’s out of the kitchen. “Honey, I didn’t want to bring this up, because I know how smart you are and how dedicated you are to helping Stellariva, but maybe I should say something. I noticed how Mr. Bozhidar was looking at you too. And you gave him your share of looks back, but is it really wise to get involved with a man when you’re planning on doing business together?”
That joyous flutter in my heart, the one that was there when I woke up this morning, dies with a sputter. She’s right. It’s a terrible idea. Things could go sideways and the deal could blow up. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll keep it professional. I promise.” But as soon as those words leave my mouth, I already feel like I’ve gone back on my word, like it’s a forgone conclusion I’m going to be with that man. And yes, I know I hardly know Boz, but these glimpses into his honest, generous heart have me wanting to spend more time with him.
No. You can’t blow this, Stella. You can’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my knees locked together. No entry, handsome.
“Thank you, honey. And good luck tonight. Tell Mr. Bozhidar we’re very excited to see what he comes up with.”
Suddenly, I’m wondering if my mom should go instead. She’s the one with the nose. My heart instantly protests. I have to see him. I’m drawn to that place and to that man.
Maybe tonight I’ll figure out how to break his hold, because it can only lead to a bad situation. A man like that—rich, smart, generous, and hot—is single for a reason: Because he wants to be. And I’m not going to risk this important venture for a fling, especially when I have zero interest in those. Pursuing anything with Boz will only lead to heartbreak.
That evening, just before seven, I head across the road to the castle. It’s a bit of a climb up the driveway to the front door, but it’s a warm evening, and I need to work off some of the anxiety that’s been building all day in my stomach. I know what I have to do. I know what’s right. This partnership is the difference between my family’s survival or losing everything.
I walk up the long, cobblestone driveway at a brisk pace. My gaze flashes to the window on the top floor. Part of me hopes to find the silhouette of a tall, strong man watching me, but it’s empty.
I sigh, but tell myself it’s good. Very good. There can’t be any more of those longing glances from across the room and little flirtations.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Hello!” a man’s voice calls out from behind me just as I pass the moat.
I stop and turn, thinking it’s probably some tourist who’s lost. We have tons of people who come from all around the world to visit the valley and the wineries. People get turned around all the time. And, oddly enough, the GPS doesn’t always work in this area. It’s like a chunk of road is simply missing from all the electronic maps. It’s no big deal since both wineries have big signs out, and it’s not like anyone’s going to miss the huge castle at the top of the hill, but it is strange.
“Hi,” I say. “Can I help you?” The man is wearing thick glasses and a very unusual outfit—a long brown trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat made from straw. First of all, it’s pretty warm out this evening. Second, why wear a summer hat with a winter coat? Oh well.
