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He turned to look at Marcos, but his brother just laughed. “Don’t worry. I was the one who suggested it.”
“But I can’t take it. The estate? The winery? It belongs in the family. To all of us, and in the future, to you and me. Then to our children.”
Marcos shook his head. “The estate belongs to you already. You’ve made it what it is. You’ve earned it. I want you to have it.”
Antonio looked at his parents.
His mom smiled. “We won’t ever come back here to live. And I hope that when we come to visit you’ll allow us to stay.”
He chuckled. “As if I wouldn’t!”
His dad looked more serious. “You’re starting your own family now, Antonio. It’s right that you should own the place, be in charge of your own destiny—and your own legacy.”
Antonio nodded. He was thrilled and shocked at the same time. “Thank you.”
His dad hugged him, and his mom came and kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome. We’re happy for you. We’ll see you out there.”
Once they’d gone, Antonio sat down on his bed and looked at his brother. “Are you sure about this?”
Marcos nodded. “I am. Don’t give it another thought. It’s helping me.”
“Helping you? How?”
Marcos came and sat down beside him and met his gaze in the mirror. “I fucked my life up, I did my best to fuck the business up. From here on out I’m making a fresh start, and I want to do it all on my own. I don’t want the support of the family—at least, not financially. I want to start from scratch and build something of my own, all by myself. I need to be hungry for something and become a self-made man. Then I might be able to look myself in the eye again.”
Antonio slung an arm around his shoulders. “Okay. I get it. You don’t want the financial support, but don’t forget you have my brotherly support.”
Marcos smiled. “I know it, and I have a feeling I’m going to need it.” He looked at his watch. “For now, it’s me who needs to do the brotherly support and get you out onto the terrace before your bride goes out there.”
They both got to their feet and Antonio’s eyes welled with tears as they hugged.
~ ~ ~
“Would you quit fidgeting!” Chelsea was standing behind her, pulling up the zipper on her dress.
“I’m not fidgeting! I just can’t believe I’ve gained weight since we bought this! It’s only been four days.”
Chelsea stood back. “You haven’t gained weight! Don’t be ridiculous. Look at you! You’re beautiful.” She turned Mary Ellen around, so she was facing the mirror.
Mary Ellen stared at herself and nodded happily. “I’m not even going to argue. I scrub up okay, don’t I?”
Chelsea laughed. “You sure do, and you shop like a demon!”
Mary Ellen laughed. The week since Antonio had proposed had flown by in a blur. When they’d arrived back in Napa, they’d gathered their friends together to share their news and everyone had stepped up to help out. Cameron had insisted that she take the week off. Chelsea had gone dress shopping with her on Tuesday, and in the course of an hour they’d visited two stores and in the second one had found her gown—and it was perfect. “I just got lucky.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind some of your luck. When I’m ready to find my dress, you’re coming with me to help.”
“You know it!”
Chelsea shook her head. “I’m not sure what I know with you and weddings anymore. I thought it would take you a long time to accept what was going on with you and Antonio. I thought you’d get married next year at the earliest. And I did not expect you to throw caution to the wind and arrange a wedding in under a week. You’re making Cam and me look bad. We’ve been pussy-footing around for months!”
Mary Ellen laughed. “What can I say? I’m more surprised at myself than anyone. But it’s so right. I mean, it’s Antonio. I love him, and that means at least a part of me must love the way he does things. He’s all in, full-on, right now, get it done. I know I prefer being organized and having my timelines, but this is right, for us—we’re still on a timeline, it’s just a much shorter one.”
Chelsea grinned. “It’s awesome. I couldn’t be happier for you—or for him. We should get moving. You’ve done so well getting everything ready at warp-speed, we don’t want to spoil it by getting you to the altar late.”
Mary Ellen smiled. “Or even to the terrace.”
“Yeah, it’s just a figure of speech. I’m glad you’re getting married here.”
