Page 105 of Gone With the Wine

“I’m actually looking forward to this.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I don’t get out much. It’s been so busy. So it’s good to meet other people here in the community. Also…I want to give them hell.”

I stare at him. “Give who hell?”

“Your family.” He glances sideways at me. “They make you sad.”

I blink. He’s not wrong. His assessment of that and his plan to give them hell has my heart swelling up so big I can’t breathe. Oh God. I’m in so much trouble.

We park in the already crowded lot and stroll toward the yard. Round tables covered in white cloths are arranged under the trees, small flower arrangements on each table, with simple wooden folding chairs. Guests mingle, their laughter floating on the air along with the cool jazz tune playing and the clink of glasses. A couple of men in white shirts pour wine at the bar.

Jansen gestures to the bar. “We need some of that.”

“Oh, hell yeah.” I breathe out and start toward the bar.

I take a sip of the Belmonte cab sauv served to me and nod. “I would say this wine pairs well with difficult family members.”

He chokes on a laugh.

We find our table where a few people stand around talking. They smile at us and Jansen introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Jansen Beck. I’m the new owner of Take Flight. Now called Bar Down.”

One man shakes his hand. “Oh hey, good to meet you. I’m Tyler Borhek and this is my wife, Zoe.”

“Bianca Martinelli!” the woman says. “Oh my gosh, we went to school together in middle school.”

“Zoe! Of course. How are you?” Ack. She’s the one who told me my mom left because she didn’t love me. It’s so much fun, coming home.

Jansen glances at me. He remembers. Is he going to give her hell, too? When our eyes meet, his glint with amusement. But instead of saying anything, he moves closer to me, slides an arm around my waist, and kisses my temple.

He’s showing Zoe that I’m loved.

Except, I’m not. I’ve fallen in love with a man who has renounced relationships.

I stick a smile on my face and make small talk with Zoe and Tyler and the other couples there. Of course we talk about wine and harvest—they all work in local wineries as well.

We’re joined by other guests and we mingle through the crowd with our wine. Jansen’s watching me as much as he looks at the other guests, setting a hand on the small of my back, brushing my shoulder, sliding his arm around my waist. We called it a “business dinner,” but this doesn’t feel like business.

It feels good. So good. I sense his support and approval for how I’m working the room. Er, the yard. It’s so tempting to believe it’s real. That he has feelings for me, too.

We run into my cousins. Seeing all three of them together, I’m struck with how handsome they all are. They all give me hugs and I start to introduce them to Jansen, but they remind me they’ve already met.

“I know it’s a crazy time of year,” I say to them. “But I was thinking that you guys should come over to Caparelli one night for dinner. Rosa makes Nonna’s Bolognese sauce just as well as Nonna did.”

“Impossible,” Gianni says with a grin.

I smile too. “Okay, it’s pretty close. And I’m getting pretty good at making her garlic bread. Anyway, we could have some spaghetti and wine and talk about old times, and catch up, just us cousins.”

“That’d be great,” Vitto says with unexpected enthusiasm.

“Good! Where’s Uncle Geno?”

“I think he’s still inside with our congressman,” Leo says. “They’re talking about that new AISommelier technology.”

I frown. “Is someone actually doing that here?”

“In Santa Barbara.”

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