Page 50 of Blush
He seemed more amused than angry, and that made her furious. She looked up at the sky, a bird circling overhead. In a few weeks, the fruit would be ripe enough to attract them.
Her father was waiting for a response. His question hadn’t been rhetorical. She said the first thing that came to mind.
“Well, for one thing, I would have produced a rosé,” she said. “Not that that solves the problem at hand. But it might have bolstered sales over the past few years.”
He nodded, rubbing his chin as if contemplating this. When he spoke, it was very slowly. “Do you know what the French do with their rosé?”
“Um, no. Not exactly.”
“I didn’t think so. We are in a global market. Rosé is the only wine with an annual expiration date.”
“Rosé doesn’t go bad in one year.”
“No, of course, the wine itself can last a long time. But the French, the Provençal rosé people, flood the American market every February with that year’s vintage of rosé. They buy back old vintages of rosé from Manhattan restaurants because they only want the current rosé available. And because they are so powerful and because they control the market around the world, every other winery now does that.”
“Okay, so—”
“So if you have leftover rosé, restaurants won’t buy it. You’re stuck holding the bag. I’m not playing that game. You hear me?”
“Yes,” she said. “I hear you.”
How could she not? His voice was raised. But she would not be shouted down. She would not be shut out.
Not this time.
Twenty-seven
Leah tried to luxuriate in the natural beauty of her surroundings, to find peace in the moment. Sitting poolside, she turned the pages of the paperback copy ofChancesshe’d bought to replace the copy she couldn’t find. Up above, the evening sky was streaked with pink and gold. It looked like a painting, like something Leah had conjured by sheer force of longing. Next to her, Sadie curled up in a chair, staring at her phone.
As much as the book kept her turning the pages, she found herself underlining passages that got under her skin.
Gino was just going to have to realize the fact that he was no longer boss. No sirree. She wasn’t about to give it all up. Power—the ultimate aphrodisiac. She was in control. She planned to stay in control. And he was just going to have to accept that fact.
Reading this, Leah couldn’t help but think that she was no Lucky Santangelo. She wasn’t going to usurp her father. She couldn’t even get him to take her seriously in a conversation. She should just go home to her husband. Her husband, who was freezing her out. Or maybe he was just busy. Either way, it had been almost twenty-four hours since she and Steven had talked.
“I was wondering where you two were.” Vivian walked out carryinga glass of wine and... the copy ofChancesthat Leah had been looking for.
“Mom, is that my book?”
“No. It’smybook,” Vivian said.
“Yeah, but I asked you if you’d seen it... Oh, never mind.” She was just happy her mother took her suggestion to heart. “Mom, I forgot to ask you before: Was the book club your idea?”
“No,” Vivian said. “If you must know, it was Delphine’s.”
Leah hadn’t heard that name in a long time. Delphine Fabron was the niece of her father’s former business partner. She’d come from France to live with them for a while when Leah was in middle school. She’d worshipped the woman—it was like having a beautiful and slightly naughty big sister. Now that she thought about it, she did remember Delphine at the book club. But then her father fired Delphine. Her parents argued about it. And it was around that time that the book club seemed to end.
“Did you stop hosting the book club because she left?” Leah said.
“Oh, who remembers,” Vivian said, suddenly very busy examining the book cover.
“That’s what the journal was for—to keep track of things,” Sadie said. “Right?”
Leah shot her a warning look. Vivian turned to them both.
“Okay, you two: Who went through my things? You had no business invading my privacy like that!”
Sadie bit her lip. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I was just looking for more photo albums.”
