Page 86 of Blush
“Young lady,” he said to her, “would you mind switching places? I prefer this side of the table.” Sadie glanced at Vivian like,Is the guy for real?but Leonard was already directing Peternelle to switch the place settings. The baron slid into the seat next to her, so close she could feel his body heat.
“What a beautiful family you have, Leonard,” he said. “You must be very proud.”
Vivian looked across the table at Leah, who had already made it clear how she felt about the baron—and this was without knowing the secret history between them. Oh, Vivian couldn’t imagine the shame if she ever found out. As much as she wanted to hold on to her home and the vineyard, the sale couldn’t happen soon enough. The baron’s presence was putting her entire world at risk. The sooner her family was able to separate from him, the better.
Peternelle served the first course, and Vivian went through the motions of eating. This was why people arranged all sorts of things around dinner; it provided a distraction, props, an excuse not to talk.
Somehow, the baron engaged Sadie in a discussion about a French literary critic, and Vivian reached for her wine.You can do this, she told herself.Just get through the meal.
And then she felt his hand on her thigh.
Something was going on. First, her grandmother jumped up from the table like the house was on fire. Then her mother followed her. Sadie excused herself, too. By the time she caught up with her mother, she was halfway up the central staircase.
“Mom! What’s wrong?”
She stopped and turned around. “I think selling this house is going to give Gran a nervous breakdown.”
Sadie could understand that. She’d been having a hard time thinking about losing the library. She glanced behind her, taking in the grand entrance hall. When she was a child, the vantage point had made her almost dizzy. The stairs had seemed endlessly vast, the stuff of storybook castles. She used to pretend she was Rapunzel trapped in a tower. It was a house of whimsy, of romanticism, of fantasy. She didn’t want to see it gone.
“There’s so much history here,” Sadie said. “I’m appreciating that now. You know what I found in the library? Grandpa’s old wine logs. They’re so intricate—like chemistry books.”
Her mother perked up. “Really? I want to see them.”
The library was hot and humid. It had absorbed all the heat of the day, the heavy curtains trapping it inside. The rain pattered against the large windows, but when Leah flipped on the air-conditioning, the gentle hum drowned out the sound of it.
“They’re on the second level,” Sadie said, leading the way up the stairs.
“My mother saves everything,” Leah said when Sadie pulled the first ledger from the shelf and handed it to her.
Leah pulled a few of the books into her arms and flipped through the pages. “I wish I knew everything my father knew about winemaking. I feel like his expertise combined with my willingness to look at things differently could lead to a solution.”
Sadie tried to think of anything she could offer, any insight she’d gleaned from her brief time with Mateo. And then she remembered something.
“Would it help to sell grapes to another vineyard? I was in Mateo’s office—um, helping out—and someone called from another vineyard looking to buy from Grandpa.” That day had been the first time she kissed Mateo, out in the field. It hurt to think about it. How could that have only been three weeks ago? It felt like a lifetime. With every day that passed, it became more and more clear he wasn’t going to come around: she was part of the Hollander family, he was an employee. End of story.
“Selling grapes just leaves us less for production. There are already empty barrels in the oak room,” her mother said. “But if we bring in outside grapes, we won’t be an estates winery. I think at one point they wanted to acquire more land, but it didn’t happen.”
She slipped the notebooks into her handbag. “I’m keeping a few. Soon, there won’t be much evidence of Hollander Estates. This time next year, someone else’s name will be out front. On the bottles. All of this will be history. Like your great-great-grandfather’s winery in Argentina.”
“Oh, Mom. It’ll be okay.”
“I wonder where all of these books will end up,” Leah said, reaching for a crowded shelf and pulling a few novels into her arms. One of the books,Mistral’s Daughter, was by Judith Krantz—the same author who wroteScruples.Sadie reached for it and opened to the description. When she looked up, her mother was studying her.
“Can I ask you something?” Leah said. “Where did you run off to the night of the book club?”
Sadie had wondered if her mother would ask her about that night, but after a few weeks passed, she felt like she was in the clear. It’s not that she would have minded confiding in her mother—there had been moments when she wanted to shout her feelings for Mateo from the rooftop. But there was no point getting into it now.
If she should be talking to anyone, she realized, it should be Mateo. Yes, she felt rejected. But look at what the impending sale was doing to her grandmother—she couldn’t even make it through a meal. It was keeping her parents apart since her mother refused to leave while her father had to work in the city. Bridget and Asher had to replan their wedding. Mateo was under the same stress.
“Sorry, Mom, I just remembered there’s somewhere I need to be,” she said, handing the book back to her.
“You’re going out? It’s pouring...”
Sadie was already rushing down the stairs.
When Leonard didn’t come to bed, Vivian went looking for him. Failing to find him anywhere in the house, she pulled on a raincoat and boots and made her way to the dark winery. The rain pelted her so hard it made her heart beat fast. She found shelter under the veranda but didn’t see Leonard until she walked halfway across it. He sat in a chair staring out at the vineyard with a drink in his hand—a whiskey tumbler, not a wineglass.
“Mind some company?” she said, pulling up a chair next to him.
