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“Oh, I intend to end up with it. I have a plan.”
“And that plan would be?”
Gian finally looked up from his desk and gave Rogen a conspiratorial grin. “When I send it out for authentication, the decanter will get lost in transit. I’ll compensate Jewel for her trouble and regretfully inform her that without the scotch the deal’s off. It’ll eventually turn up and sit on my shelf.”
Rogen folded his arms over his chest. “You’re going to double-cross her.”
“It’s business, Son. Jewel is smart enough to know that anything could go wrong. That this could all fall apart for her. She might be out time and effort but, as I said, she’ll be compensated.”
Stewing over this, Rogen asked, “What’s the point in keeping that property in a stranglehold? If we can’t develop it, nor can the Catalanos, what’s the purpose of it still being part of our portfolio?”
Gian pushed his chair back and stood, planting his hands on his desk. Spearing Rogen with an intense look. “I refuse to let Catalanos encroach on my lot line. Keeping that tract between our estate and theirs is the purpose of it still being part of our portfolio.”
“Then why don’t we make an offer?”
“Because Anthony Catalano feels the exact same way. We might have to coexist in this town, but not as direct neighbors.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
“I understand that Anthony broke your pact,” Rogen said. “That he moved autonomously on that land when it was supposed to be a joint venture. And he took advantage of the situation during a vulnerable time for our family.” Right in the middle of Taylor’s illness and subsequent death. Rogen’s younger sister had been diagnosed with late-stage cancer, had suffered horrifically, and had died not more than four weeks later. It had wrecked everyone under this roof.
So yes, Rogen could fully understand his father’s anguish. The unfortunate aspect was that the situation had never been resolved. The two men had never even tried to make amends.
Rogen hadn’t been privy to all the details, but from what he’d gleaned, Anthony Catalano had made the split decision to employ Plan B for the land, rather than the Plan A he and Gian had finally agreed upon. Anthony had brought surveyors onto the property, had conducted environmental tests, and intended to break ground on an Italian village of art galleries, restaurants, and specialty markets with imported goods—rather than the viticulture center and international tasting room previously agreed upon with Gian.
Anthony had later contended that Gian was not of the frame of mind to make sound business decisions while dealing with his daughter’s severe illness and treatments and the ensuing grief of her death. Taylor had only been nine, after all. A beautiful, precocious girl who’d easily wrapped everyone around her little finger from the very beginning.
Rogen in particular. He’d been devastated by her dire diagnosis alone. It had also rocked the very foundation of the Angelini estate. The entire community of River Cross. Making it particularly shortsighted on Anthony’s part to swoop in with his favored plans for the property.
Later, Anthony had asserted that he’d had everyone’s best interests at heart. But despite the fact that his business schematic would have made the two families a shitload of money, it was the principle of the matter that led to Gian not reconciling with him. And forbidding his wife and his son from associating with Catalanos.
A huge clusterfuck all the way around.
For God’s sake, Rogen’s parents had staff call whatever restaurant they chose to dine out at in order to ensure Anthony and Sophia didn’t have a reservation there within a two-hour time frame of their visit.
Gian said, “If Jewel is interested in that land, Anthony will grind over the fact that they can’t get their hands on it. That’s the only vengeance I get. But I’ll take it.” He returned to his seat.
Rogen didn’t bother to mention he’d been grinding himself, for years, because he wanted his own vineyard. He already knew what his father would say: So find some other land to grow on.
But the point was to keep the distillery and a new winery connected, not divided by a county or two.
“If that’s all,” Gian said, “I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”
Rogen nodded. “I’ll see you at dinner, then.”
His mind churned with a way to acquire that land himself, but the Catalanos had not been receptive to Gian’s offer
s in the past, so the Angelinis had stopped making them. And Rogen’s father was right. Anthony clearly wanted the property and would leave it sitting if he couldn’t have it. The men wouldn’t even consider subdividing, each taking a slice. Because, yes, they’d border each other’s estates. And, apparently, they preferred to have mass quantities of acreage separating them.
Yet there had to be a reasonable solution.
Perhaps it was time Rogen found it.
* * *
“You realize you’re constructing a house of cards?” Bayli asked on a three-way videoconference call with Jewel and Scarlet on Thursday morning.
Ignoring the ominous warning for the moment, Jewel gazed past Bayli’s slender shoulder and said, “Please tell me that’s not your new apartment in the background?”
