Page 69 of Blush
Vivian’s jaw dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean? Is that some sort of threat?”
“No, it’s just reality. I make him happy. And I want to keep making him happy—for the rest of his life. And also, we don’t need a wedding.We’re happy to sail off and get married at sea. We were doing this for you. But I don’t see the point anymore. No offense, but if you keep this up, you’ll not only lose your winery, you’ll lose your son, too.”
Vivian whirled around and marched away. How dare Bridget speak to her like that? All she was trying to do was help. Her indignation was too much of a burden to bear alone. She knocked on Leonard’s closed office door.
“Can it wait?” he barked.
“Leonard, it’s me.”
She turned the knob, but it was locked. Unusual. She waited impatiently for the click from the other side of the door.
“Why are you locked in here?” she said, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her.
“Because I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said, returning to his seat behind the desk, which was covered in spreadsheets.
He looked tired, the bags under his eyes tinged with blue. Or maybe it was just the artificial light. She walked to the window and opened the shades.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing that for, Vivian?” he said.
“Why do you think? I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Is that why you stopped by?”
“No. I want to discuss the wedding.”
He drummed his fingers on his desk with impatience. “I’m busy here, Vivian.”
“This is our son’s wedding. The only wedding we’re ever going to host as parents. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”
“At the moment, no.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
He sat back in his seat, moving papers around absently while looking at her. “Another offer came in.”
“They made the offer sight unseen?”
He didn’t look up. “Not exactly. But it’s a decent offer. Not great, not what I’d hoped for. But it’s enough to get us out of this mess.”
“How much?” she said.
“We’re still negotiating.”
“Okay, well, I’d think you’d be happy about that.”
His eyes met hers.
“Vivian,” he said. “The offer is from the baron.”
Thirty-five
The sun slipped lower in the sky as the family took their places around the dinner table. Vivian hid again behind her Chanel sunglasses.
She couldn’t face her husband and her children. How, oh how, had fate brought the baron back into their lives? If she could have retreated to her room for the night without raising alarm, she would have gladly. She needed time to absorb this news.
The guilt over cheating on Leonard had not faded over the years. If anything it had grown sharper. As time passed, it was difficult to remember the passion—so ephemeral. But she could not forget the physical transgression itself.
There was no hiding from her past, and there was no avoiding the present: Leah wanted a festive dinner for Steven’s arrival. And so they gathered at one of the picnic tables out in the field adjacent to the winery. They would dine under the stars, their meal framed by baby Syrah and Merlot plants, an orchestra of crickets serenading them. Vivian remembered eating in just that spot on a picnic blanket, a summer night before a single grape had grown. Did Leonard remember it, too?
