Her eyes narrow. “There’s a wine tasting starting now. Shouldn’t you be going?”
“It’s not for another four minutes,” I reply breezily. “And Greg’s got it. I’m just here signing my VP paperwork.”
Her jaw drops, and Dante shoots me an exasperated look.
“V…P?” Jessica sputters.
“That’s right,” Dante says. “So, if you’ll excuse us.”
He’s backing my story. I can feel a broad smile straining my cheeks.
Jessica’s eyes dart between us, and she starts to say something, but then thinks better of it and leaves with a huff, pulling the door shut behind her.
I rise from the desk chair and head for the door myself, stopping to give Dante a well-earned smooch on my way out.
“You’re lovely,” I tell him. “But you better not make a liar out of me. Go get that paperwork drawn up. VP of Operations has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Strutting down the hall, I throw a look over my shoulder to find him leaning out the door, watching me go.
“Francesca Bellanti, you’re gonna be the best damn VP of Operations we’ve ever had!” he calls out, loud enough for the whole office to hear. “Bellanti Vineyards is in good hands!”
“Damn right I will be!” I holler back before rounding the corner with a huge smile on my face.
12
Frankie
I’m thrilledto find Charlie and Clayton at the table when I enter the dining room later that night.
A late afternoon toss-all-the-cookies session made me late to the meal I’m not even sure I can keep down, but I doubt anyone will mind, judging by the fact that they’re all engaged in a conversation. Dante is so engrossed that he doesn’t seem to notice I’m there until I pull out the chair beside him.
“He’s hiding out somewhere. I doubt he made it far, not without money. He’d have to be calling on a lot of favors to stay hidden.”
“He could be anywhere.”
“Unless he’s dead.”
I look at all the faces around the table, settling on two that I don’t know. Men, both of them—and although they aren’t wearing uniforms, they have the stiff bearing and broad shoulders of ex-military or police.
“If my father was dead, we’d know about it by now,” Charlie says. “Someone would make damn sure we knew.”
She puts on a smile when I catch her gaze, but it does little to cover the stress lines between her eyes. Clayton’s expression is stony. Armani looks deep in thought, and Marco…he’s got the bottle of wine right next to his glass, and it looks almost empty.
“I didn’t realize we were having company tonight,” I say to Dante, keeping my voice light while cutting my eyes at the two strangers.
He clears his throat and takes my hand. “Francesca, these gentlemen are David Farman, who is now in charge of security for the winery, and Jim Bryant…he’s a police officer and an old friend of Marco. Jim’s not here in an ‘official’ capacity.”
“Do I want to know what that means?” I say mildly, though my blood pressure is already climbing.
Dante glances at Bryant—who nods—and then back to me. “He’s going to help us track down your father. As a favor.”
“Do we have to?” I try to joke, but the larger part of me is dead serious.
The food comes out just then, stopping the chatter around the table.
Oh God, no. It smells like veal…and onions. Nope.
Bile lurches into my throat and I shake my head, closing my eyes. Dante has my plate immediately taken away.
