Page 23 of Come Take Me Now

Because I’ve been near his house at night.

But I don’t say that. I just shrug. “After thirty-two years living in Napa, I know these things.” All right, topic change. “You know, I never asked you what your degree is in. You told me you wanted to be a school counselor, but I don’t think you mentioned what you studied.”

“Oh!” she beams. “I have a Bachelor’s in sociology with an emphasis in child development and a minor in psychology.”

“Hmm, that’s a little intense,” I say with a light laugh. “What’s your read on me?”

She sits back in her chair, her fingers toying with the hemline of her shirt. “Uh, I think you’re complicated. I bet no one really knows you. Like you keep things about yourself closely guarded.”

It’s my turn to sit back in my chair. I press my fingers together. I never thought she was dumb—maybe just chaotic, but she’s sharper than I expected. Sloppiness with details around her could cost us—whatever this turns into—everything. I can only talk myself out of so many things before I pique her suspicion.

“Well, I can’t say you’re wrong.”

She smiles warmly at me. “You’re like Shrek. You have layers I’m looking forward to peeling back this summer and finding out who the real you is.” She giggles and reaches for her drink. She’s lighthearted, but something about that is unnerving.

I just return the smile. “Likewise.” But she’s an open book.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your meeting about?”

I close the leather-bound menu and set it aside. “Oh, just reviewing wholesale and retail prices for the next year. We’re increasing our rates per case, but vendors usually expect that. I had to finalize numbers today before pitching them.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I tried to keep pricing fair, and only our more sophisticated blends are increasing to meet the rise in materials and labor,” I answer. “It’s boring shit, to be honest.”

She shakes her head, and a warm smile grazes her lips. “No, it’s interesting. Dad never said much about business. I couldn’t tell you what his businesses were.”

I can.

“Probably boring businesses. Like consulting, marketing. If he retired to Napa, he must have been good at building them,” I say.

“You’re probably right. Do vendors care about your tattoos?” I stare into her eyes as I mull over how to respond. “Sorry, they’re well done, but I know in business, they can be frowned upon.”

I shake my head. “No, no one really cares. I’ve been around the business long enough, and I’m maintaining relationships my dad and his brothers built. The tattoo stigma is slowly fading, too.”

“That’s good.” She pauses. “Now that I’ve seen the vineyard, the architecture, all of it—how did your family end up with that much property?” she asks.

“In the late fifties, my grandparents immigrated here from Italy when my grandma—Nonna—was expecting their first kid. I know Nonno was trying to leave organized crime in Italy and build a better life. Isn’t that why anyone comes to America? Land was cheap, they expanded, and then my dad and uncles grew the business to what it is today,” I explain.

“Do you own Tenuta Valenti?”

I laugh under my breath. “If only.” I sip my water. “No, my dad and his four older siblings each have twenty percent. Since I’m the only one out of my siblings involved with the business, I know Dad has in his will that I inherit his full twenty percent when he passes. If my dad and his siblings are all gone, Robby is my only other cousin who would have twenty percent since he’s an only child.”

“How is that fair to your siblings? Do they care?”

“I hope they don’t, but it’s nothing worth fighting over. Sure, Dad gets profits from his stake in the winery, but his estate otherwise would be split. Anyway, it’s morbid to think about when he’s only sixty-two and healthy.”

“I mean, I’m in a similar boat with my dad. So, none of your cousins wanted to run the winery with you?” she asks.

“No, they have their own lives. I was a little surprised none of my brothers wanted to be part of the family legacy, but that’s good for me, more or less.”

Especially Paulie, who could be doing much better than he is.

“It’s truly amazing what your family built.”

And I’m just trying not to fuck it up.

Chapter Eight