The windows were the most important repair because the interior was exposed to the outside elements, like dust and pesticides from the vines and bugs and all kinds of things. No one had sealed the opening with a tarp. I felt like that was something Leo should have done for his sister, but apparently, he was lost in his own world.
I left my house right after Francesca went to work so I could get a lot done before it got too warm. But it was barely ten in the morning when I had to take off my shirt because I was hot as fuck. I’d just set the first window in place and sealed it when I heard the sound of a car behind me and smelled the scent of dust kicked up in the air.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I recognized his voice—Leo. I waited until the window was sealed before I let it go, seeing it hold its place before I turned around.
Leo was in his truck, the passenger window rolled down so he could talk to me. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Relax,” I said as I walked up. “Your father said I could repair the house.”
“Why are you repairing the house?”
I reached the door and looked at him inside, seeing him with one hand on the wheel. “Because your sister loves this place. I’m not going to let it fall apart just because some asshole thought he could destroy it. Aren’t you late for work?”
“I get there whenever the fuck I want to get there.”
I patted the windowsill. “Spoken like a hard worker.” I turned away from the window before I remembered something else I wanted to share. “Don’t mention this to Francesca. I want to surprise her.”
He gave me an irritated look as his hand continued to rest on the wheel. “My father is never going to let you back here.”
“We’ll see…”
He gripped the wheel and then took off, his tires lifting a cloud of dust into the air.
I watched him go before I turned back to the house and the rest of the windows that needed to be installed. “One down…ten more to go.”
25
FRANCESCA
It took a couple of days, but I reorganized the mess my brother had made. Got orders and deliveries back on track, finished the schedule for shipments for both the wine and the guns, and then informed my father of outstanding payments.
I walked into his office, and it was the first time I’d directly interacted with him since I’d returned to the winery.
He was on the phone with someone, his back to me as he stared out the window. “Tuesday won’t work. Thursday is better. I’ll send you the details.” He hung up without giving the other person a chance to say anything. When he turned back to his desk, he didn’t seem surprised to see me there, like he’d managed to hear me walk inside and focus on his conversation at the same time.
There was this awkwardness between us, and an awkwardness that would probably always be there.
He sat behind his desk. “You have something for me, Frankie?”
“I have a lot of things for you.” My family had been calling me Frankie my entire life, and now that Wolfe called me Francesca, it was weird to hear the nickname again. I felt like it didn’t fit me at all. I used to dislike my name because it was too long, but when Wolfe said it…it was just perfect.
I approached his desk with my folder. “We’ve got a lot of outstanding orders, which means we have a lot of product just sitting in the warehouse. If we don’t get it moved, we’re going to run out of storage space—and lose customers.”
He nodded.
“I’ll talk to Roman and get that organized. Then I’ll meet with Jeremy tomorrow about the vineyard expansion. The fertilizer we ordered a couple weeks ago is supposed to be here this week, and it has a short shelf life.”
“Alright.”
“As for the guns, you have a few outstanding payments.”
“I do?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Rossi was supposed to pay his deposit before his shipment was delivered, but that never took place.”
He gave a quiet sigh.
