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Footsteps sounded to my left, and I turned to see Mrs. Barsetti walk toward me. She had a cold bottle of water in her hand, and she extended it to me.
I gave her a nod in gratitude and took it, ignoring the pistol that sat on the hip of her jeans. She’d been carrying since Crow started to carry his. He probably made her do it, wanting her to be protected even if he wasn’t around.
But she obviously wasn’t scared of me. Her stupid gun wouldn’t have any effect on me if she pulled the trigger.
Mrs. Barsetti possessed youthful beauty that still made her a very pretty woman. She was slender with an hourglass figure, having a body that didn’t seem like it had given birth to two children, let alone a son who towered over her. She kept her skin safe from the sun, so her face and neck were still unlined and smooth. She had blue eyes as I did, something neither of her children had inherited.
I twisted off the cap and took a long drink. I consumed half the contents before I tightened the cap again. “Thanks.”
“Of course. There’s water in the break room. You’ve proven yourself to be an ox, so please help yourself when you need something.”
I worked myself hard, constantly trying to prove to the Barsetti family that I was built like a machine. I could go on forever, even if I got a migraine from dehydration. I could work ten times as hard as any other employee they had. My strength and endurance were unquestionable.
I waited for her to walk away, assuming she didn’t want anything to do with me. She seemed to be more understanding than her husband, but she was also more restrained. She basically told me she was only participating because she knew her daughter loved me.
Mrs. Barsetti brought her hands together as she stared at me. “My husband told me you guys had a long talk…”
“Yes. And it ended the same way all the others do.”
“I know you’re frustrated. You do a decent job hiding it.”
“It doesn’t matter how frustrated I am. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “I admire you for putting up with all of us. I know my husband and brother-in-law aren’t the easiest to get along with. They’ve both been very stubborn. It’s just how they are. And when it comes to Vanessa…they get a little crazy.”
“I get crazy when it comes to her too.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a chuckle. “Why else would you be here every day?” She stepped onto the dirt path that moved down the hill toward the vineyards. “Walk with me.”
I was timid whenever it came to this woman. “I’m not sure your husband would like that. I’m trying to get him to like me…not give him another excuse to hate me.”
She patted her gun on her hip. “Don’t underestimate me. I’m an incredible shot.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Don’t worry, he knows what I’m doing.” She kept walking. “And he knows I can handle myself.”
I followed her, and we moved into the rows of grapes. She explained the system to me, how the fruit was harvested before it was processed in the warehouse. She picked grapes right off the vine and popped them into her mouth, not caring if there was a bit of dust on them.
I didn’t care how wine was made, but it was nice to talk about something else besides my worthiness of being accepted by the Barsetti family.
“That’s a quick tour,” she said as she kept walking. “I learned all of this when I started helping Crow at the winery. For the longest time, he wanted me to stay home and get fat, but I insisted I needed to be involved in something.”
“He wants me to stay home and get fat too.”
“I know,” she said. “But that’s a very different situation.” She stopped at one spot in the row and faced the rest of the fields as they stretched into a valley. “We’ve been growing the vineyards for the past thirty years. Now we have locations everywhere, and there’s more work that can possibly be handled. Cane managed the wineries in other places, but the work never seems to end. We always hoped Conway would take over, but obviously, he has no interest in it. Then we were hoping Vanessa would want to take over…but she seems more interested in artwork.”
“It’s what she’s meant to do.” I wouldn’t pity her parents for not having someone to pass their livelihood on to. Vanessa was so painfully talented that it would be a disgrace if she spent her time doing anything else. “I know she’s going to be huge someday, have paintings hanging in museums.”
Mrs. Barsetti stared at me, the corner of her mouth rising in a smile. “You really believe in her.”
