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The question should be considered an interruption, but the sound of Aspen’s voice was more comforting than I realized. “No wine. Scotch.”
“I think there’s some behind the bar but I’m not certain. I haven’t had time to explore everything yet.”
I growled as I glanced at her, forced to take a deep breath. With her hair tousled, she looked even more beautiful than before. My nostrils flared as I took a deep breath. I wanted to rip off the dress once again, taking her even more brutally than before. Specks of light flashed in front of my eyes from the intensity of the sensations. Suddenly, I found it difficult to breathe.
She seemed to sense my thoughts, glancing toward the fireplace in an effort to keep me from telling how embarrassed she remained.
“I assure you that there is an old bottle of scotch on the bottom shelf behind the bar. If you’re so inclined, why don’t you join me?” I managed, barely recognizing my voice.
A nervous laugh pushed past her lips, but she did as I asked, returning with two glasses. As she handed me the drink, she purposely kept her fingers away from mine. Good girl. I couldn’t blame her in the least. When she settled on the couch several feet away, I twisted the glass in my hand before indulging in one of my few vices. The liquor was exactly as I remembered. Smooth and velvety.
This particular brand of scotch had been something I’d sworn never to touch again.
“Tell me about the winery,” she murmured after a few seconds.
“I think you’ve learned everything you need in order to make your first analysis.” I said the words absently, uncertain I was prepared to talk about business. The swig of scotch was powerful in an entirely different way. I swallowed the liquid slowly, enjoying the smooth, rich taste.
She laughed softly, the slight rustling sound drawing my attention once again. She’d curled her long legs under her, leaning on the arm of the couch as she gazed at me. There was a light in her eyes indicating her amusement. “That’s not what I mean. Tell me about the winery in your words. I need to hear your love for the business.”
“What if I don’t love it any longer?”
“Then I’d call you a liar.” She leaned forward in some attempt to keep me engaged. “Come on, Montgomery. You already know I found out that your father really brought life to the operation after purchasing it a long time ago. From what I understand, you worked by his side. There has to be something you love about it.”
I continued to twist the drink, glaring at the fire as another round of anger crawled along my spine. “My grandfather actually worked on the property for the previous owners when he was young.” I thought about the stories I’d heard, although many of them had become little more than distant memories. “From the stories over time, I heard my grandfather told the owner that one day he was going to buy the place. I think the man laughed at him given how poor my family was. But he did. He saved every penny of his money for years in order to be able to do so, but he made it happen.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, but my grandfather wasn’t much of a businessman. He almost lost the estate twice to foreclosure, but he continued on, determined to produce an entirely different type of grape.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked about the grand stories my father used to tell his kids. “Anyway, it took some time, but the vineyards started thriving. Naturally, my father was expected to enter into the business. That was the way of things. You followed in your father’s footsteps no matter what you wanted to do.”
“That’s why you’re still here?”
I thought about her question, something I hadn’t been certain of until just this moment. A few seconds of sheer joy shifted into me. “Actually, I fell in love with the entire estate when I was a boy. I used to ride my horse through the grapevines, snagging a handful before heading into the mountains. To me, the land brought new adventures every day. I spent hours outside until I was old enough to work the vineyard, moving into understudying the production line. I adored watching and learning the process. That’s why I gave my father the idea of building vacation-style villas. He thought I was nuts for wanting to bring tourists in, but for a long time the extension was profitable. People loved the tours followed by a wine tasting then a fabulous dinner. We have a world-renowned chef, or at least I think he’s still here.”
Exhaling, she scooted closer to the edge. “You do, as well as some other amazing people. The story you just told me is exactly what you need in order to bring back this winery. That’s loyalty and family values, a legacy that your grandfather worked so hard to make happen. From what little I can tell, your success before was all about your love of what you do and that came from your family. I wish you could spend time with him again, just talking. I know it must be hard without him.”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “He was brutal in his own way, my mother the only person who could dispel this burning darkness inside of him.”
“What did he die from?”
“A heart attack out of the blue. Unfortunately, there have been several injuries over the years, some of them unexplained. So much crap.” I looked away, the demon threatening to claw its way into my system once again.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
After lifting my glass, I studied the way the flames created prisms of light. “He was barely sixty-two. That’s the day I became president and CEO at twenty-eight years old. I was determined to continue on the same path, increasing the profits. I worked my ass off in my father’s honor even though the odds were against us. A horrible weather pattern for two years killed off a good portion of the grapes. A horrific fire took out another section. But somehow, I managed to get it to survive. He didn’t get to see the completed villas or the added profits. It was stripped away from him like everything else.” The bitter tone in my voice was obvious. I took a swig, holding the liquor in my mouth before swallowing. He also hadn’t gotten a chance to meet Carmine.
Another round of memories I didn’t need.
She remained quiet, obviously uncertain of what to say. “Again, I’m sorry.”
“It’s certainly not your fault, Aspen. Robert shouldn’t have dragged you in without providing certain details. You needed to understand what you were getting in the middle of.”
“Mr. Blakely cares about you. That’s clear to me.”
“Yes, we’ve been friends for a long time. Finding someone you can trust in this business is difficult. It’s cutthroat as hell. He’d taken his share of hard knocks over the years. That’s for certain.”
“You said you had enemies. Who are they?”
Another laugh pushed up from the depths of my being. “Look around you. My father wasn’t well liked just like his father before him. We’re not native to Napa, our heritage not good enough for the highbrow affluents that have owned their properties for generations. We are merely Cheyenne, which is akin to scum in some people’s minds.” When she looked at me with such innocence on her face, I was torn by her actual caring. Why the hell would she care about someone who she considered nasty? “We weren’t welcome for a long time. I’m not certain we are today.”
