Page 78 of Blush
“Wait—you thought about leaving Dad?” She tried to keep her tone even so Vivian didn’t clam up, but she couldn’t hide her surprise.
“That’s not what I’m saying. And this is aboutyou,” she said. “I certainly hope your decision to stay here for so long isn’t causing problems. As much as I love having you here, I wouldn’t want it to be at the expense of your marriage.”
“No, no. I mean, in all honesty, it’s not helping. But the problemsstarted before the summer. Steven and I... it’s like we’re roommates. Roommates who love each other, but...”
“I see.” Vivian got up from the island and moved to the counter, looking out the window at the pool. When she turned around to face her, her expression was troubled. “You should return to the city. This week.”
“Mom, it’s okay. Now I’m sorry I said anything. Everything’s fine. We’re just going through a phase, I guess.”
Vivian shook her head, her brow furrowed in consternation.
Leah reached out and touched her hand. “Really—it’s fine. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s not that. I need to tell you something, but please don’t say a word to your father.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
“There’s another offer on the winery. I think this time it’s for real.”
She looked more distraught than the first time she told Leah they were selling.
“Mom, you can’t roller coaster like this. It’s not good for you. At some point, you might just have to accept that Dad’s selling.”
Vivian sipped her tea, her hands shaking. “It’s not just that he’s selling. It’s who he’s selling to. It’s someone who partnered with him briefly in the eighties. Delphine’s uncle.”
“Didn’t that business relationship end badly?”
“Yes. It did.” Vivian pressed her hand to her forehead.
“Mom, it’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t know about that, Leah,” Vivian said, her expression pained.
Leah didn’t know what to say. There was nothingtosay. But maybe, just maybe, there was something she could do.
Thirty-nine
The past was the past. It was very important that Vivian hold on to that fact. On the day the baron was scheduled to arrive for an extended visit, the winery closed to the public so he could explore the property in private. His arrival was set for noon, and lunch was being prepared on the veranda.
Leonard took her hand as they descended the stairs. Midway down, the grand entrance hall in view, she nearly swooned from anxiety. She leaned into Leonard for support, and he squeezed her hand, thinking she was being affectionate.
Outside, she broke into a sweat even though it wasn’t especially hot, her dress clinging to her back. Vivian had been uncharacteristically uncertain about what to wear. She decided on a navy shift dress, Chanel flats, and a vintage gold and mother-of-pearl necklace from Van Cleef.
They walked through the pergola in silence. The sun was bright, the moist air redolent of the late-blooming flowers lining their path. She glanced at Leonard, his jaw set in determination.
Leonard could be difficult sometimes, but he wasn’t a hypocrite. He always told her and the kids it was important to do the right thing when it was hard, not just when it was easy. Now he was doing something he felt he had to do even though it felt nearly impossible. She knew he wasstruggling with this decision. He tossed and turned beside her all night long, every night. He wasn’t eating. It was bad enough to have to sell Hollander Estates—but to sell to a man who’d broken a previous partnership, leaving him in the lurch? If she’d ever doubted that Leonard had any option other than to sell, she no longer did.
They crossed the veranda. The table was set in a color scheme of navy and yellow, with a patterned runner and sunflowers in silver vases. The menu: a kale salad with pine nuts and roasted chicken in a Grand Marnier sauce paired with their Chardonnay and Pinot Noir.
They reached the front of the winery just as a black Mercedes SUV pulled up. The driver stepped out and opened the rear passenger door.
The man who emerged was thicker than she remembered him to be, with slicked-back gray hair. The baron had aged, but his sharply cut suit, his oversize watch, his wingtip shoes... every inch of him broadcast his wealth and privilege. He might not be young and handsome any longer, but he carried himself like a man to be reckoned with.
His pale eyes went first to Leonard.
“Good to see you, old friend,” he said, holding out his hand to Leonard. “What a pleasure to be backchezHollander.” He turned to her. “Vivian. It’s been a long time.”
The baron scanned her from head to toe in appraisal, not greeting. He nodded, a near imperceptible gesture that said,I like what I see. She shuddered.
