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ONE
“You realize you’re crashing the Angelinis’ party, despite having an invitation.”
Jewel Catalano glanced up from the gorgeous ecru-colored and gold-embossed gala announcement she held in her hot little hands. A very unexpected gift from her assistant, Cameron Valens, who sat next to her in the back of a limo as they traveled the rising and falling slopes of road that cut through endless acres of ripe, rowed vineyards and tree-lined, grass-covered hills leading to the wine community of River Cross, California. Home to two internationally acclaimed vineyards that had sparked the town’s growth and stimulated its economy over the past century: the Catalano winery and the Angelini distillery.
Both cellars of exceptional reputation. Both owners bitter rivals.
“If I’m going to make a major power play for that deadlocked land the Angelinis co-own with my parents,” Jewel contended, “this is my only hope for gaining an audience with Gian Angelini and attempting to strike a deal.”
“You have a bargaining chip to take into the lion’s den?”
Jewel smiled, even though her stomach knotted over how accurate a picture Cameron painted. Yet Jewel truly did have an ace up her sleeve. “Came across it while I was in Paris. I intend to make an offer the Angelinis can’t refuse.”
She’d spent the past six years trying to ascertain what Gian Angelini didn’t have that he might want to get his hands on. Jewel believed she’d finally hit upon it.
As a Senior Vice President of Acquisitions for Catalano Enterprises, Jewel thrived on securing rare possessions to help seal her most lucrative deals. Her experience was that transactions didn’t always boil down to how much money one offered during negotiations. Sometimes it helped to find whatever unicorn was most elusive to the person on the other side of the table and use that to sweeten the pot.
Luckily, she had help in this area from two lifelong friends, Bayli Styles and Scarlet Drake. Bayli was a research hound, and Scarlet had the uncanny ability—and all the right connections—to track down unique treasures. Jewel just had to provide the scent and the girls picked up the trail.
“You are tenacious. I’ll give you that much,” Jewel’s assistant said in her smoky voice. “Gian Angelini is not a man I’d want to go toe to toe with.”
“I’m not exactly looking forward to invading his turf, especially unannounced. But what choice do I have? He hasn’t taken any of my calls or answered my e-mails. When we’re in a roomful of people, however, he won’t be able to ignore me. He might be intimidating as hell, but he has impeccable manners when in the midst of polite society.”
“I still wouldn’t want to be in your Jimmy Choo shoes.”
With a snicker, Jewel said, “I don’t blame you. Thanks, by the way, for finagling this invitation from the printer.”
“How convenient that I’m sleeping with him.” Cameron winked.
“Indeed.” Jewel laughed softly. “And I appreciate you bringing all these documents I needed to sign.” She handed over the stack of papers and Cameron tucked them into a slim black leather portfolio.
Jewel’s assistant had come in from San Francisco, where Catalano Enterprises was headquartered, to meet her at the private hangar on the edge of River Cross that housed CE’s corporate jets so that they could catch up on business.
Jewel had been in France for nearly a week, working a different deal to procure the only building left on Paris’s stunning Avenue des Lamond not owned by CE. Her father, Anthony Catalano, had plans to develop an even more prestigious Champs-Élysées. She was convinced he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d left his footprint on every major city in the world.
Jewel’s main objective was more localized. She didn’t need her own Champs-Élysées or Taj Mahal. Just a small slice of heaven that was rightfully hers.
Well, almost rightfully hers. For Jewel was heir to property that also belonged to the Angelini estate, making their one and only beneficiary, Rogen, equally entitled.
And it wasn’t exactly a small slice. The massive acreage Jewel wanted full custody of for her own business purposes stretched between the Catala
no estate and the one owned by the Angelinis.
But the tract of land was tied up in messy legalities and a vicious feud between her family and Rogen’s. So all that prime real estate sat undisturbed and undeveloped. A complete waste, in Jewel’s mind.
A thought that festered 24/7 in the back of her head.
The very reason she was currently in River Cross.
“You really think you can sway Gian Angelini?” Cameron asked. She was an attractive woman of forty-six with sophisticatedly coiffed short brown hair and an eye for fashion.
By contrast, Jewel had long sleek blond hair and sapphire eyes that caught the light in the reflection as her gaze shifted to the side windows while she considered the probability of pulling off this latest endeavor.
The driver of the limo took the turn toward the northwestern portion of the county, winding through the manicured township of stylish boutiques, restaurants, and wine bars, with bistro sets dotting pavered patios. There were plenty of lush, verdant courtyards boasting fountains and freshly varnished park benches.
The sun began its gradual descent on the horizon, casting vibrant shades of blood orange, vermilion, and gold across the landscape, turning the mountain range in the distance into a fiery sentinel looming above the river that ran along the base, then weaving its way through the countryside.
Though Jewel had lived in San Francisco since she was eighteen, she’d always loved the elegantly rustic community of River Cross. Yet as the limo traveled farther north she turned away from the mesmeric scenery—before they passed the Angelini estate and distillery on their way to her family’s manor. Her stomach already churned enough over her decision to attend the gala this evening. A tricky, potentially volatile affair that left her on edge and slightly breathless.
She didn’t need to torment herself further over what she might encounter when she set foot on Angelini property for the first time in fifteen years. The mere thought called forth voices from the past. Handsome faces. Stolen kisses. Love, longing, and loss.
Trying to reel in emotions that threatened to get the best of her, Jewel returned to her previous conversation with Cameron, saying, “I believe I can get Gian to see that it makes no sense to keep the land in a stranglehold because of one argument.” Which had erupted over venomous accusations and tenuous emotions shortly after the Angelinis’ young daughter had passed, when Jewel was thirteen. “My parents and Gian and Rose-Marie Angelini used to be the best of friends. Now they despise each other.”
“Such a shame. Do you ever speak with their son?”
“Not in years.”
Rogen was her age, twenty-eight. They’d been close growing up. More than that, really. He’d been her first … everything.
But he’d spent half of his life away from River Cross, only having moved back about six months ago, or so the grapevine reported. Actually, there’d been quite a few rumors whispered of late by a high school friend or two of Jewel’s, mostly about how Rogen’s best friend, Vincent D’Angelo, had returned as well and the two men were currently pleasing several of the pampered “ladies who lunch.” It was hinted the men were experts at doing this at the same time.
Jewel waved a dismissive hand at the gossips. But, admittedly, certain forbidden thoughts cropped up. She fought their elusive pull, including the old memories creeping in on her now.
She tried to shake the remembrance of her past with Rogen from her head. Yet she couldn’t block the mental flash of his vibrant cerulean eyes and wicked grin, which instantly ignited her nerve endings.
Precisely why she didn’t allow herself to indulge in reveries of him.
That and the fact that their family situations did not bode well for any sort of wishful reconciliation. Both fathers had held their grudge to such great extent, they’d done everything in their power to separate Jewel and Rogen when they were teenagers. Gian had shipped his son off to the highest-ranking prep school in the country, Trinity, in Manhattan. Jewel had been prohibited from seeing him, though they’d found sequestered moments together when Rogen had flown in for holidays. Until their junior year. That was when the Angelinis had begun vacationing in Europe, not giving Rogen much chance to come home.
