Chapter 3
FRANKIE
Yeah, this isn’t going to cut it.
The Versace dress I’m holding against my body is designer, but it’s four years old and solid black…
not really my color. Unfortunately, it’ll have to do.
The moment my father informed me I was engaged, the ball started rolling—and now I’m on a ride I can’t get off of.
Apparently, I have a formal dinner tonight to meet my fiancé, just him and me. Alone.
I’m not good with spontaneity and surprises.
I prefer having things laid out before me in advance, in black and white, so I know exactly what to expect.
Which is why, having never met Dante in person before, I’ve decided to go to the Bellantis’ winery today and introduce myself to my fiancé ahead of time.
My hope is that it will ease some of the apprehension and awkwardness between us at the formal dinner later.
For all I know, he’s nervous about this arrangement, too.
Breaking the ice might be good for both of us.
Problem is, my wardrobe is seriously lacking.
This in Napa Valley, after all. And I’m about to be the wife of a mob boss and a member of an incredibly wealthy winery family.
I should be dressed to fit the image. But I didn’t need designer clothes while I was in Italy, so my suitcase is stuffed with nothing except faded denim and worn-out button-downs.
Fashion isn’t much of a concern when you’re spending long hours physically working in a vineyard or behind the scenes with your sleeves rolled up.
“Here you go!” Livvie trills, popping into my room with my heels outstretched.
I do a double take. I can’t believe they’re the same dull, scuffed Manolos I gave her just a few minutes ago.
She managed to polish the black leather to a brilliant shine.
Not a scuff to be seen. They’re actually presentable again.
“This is amazing, Liv. Thank you.”
“We’re not done yet. Sit.”
She takes the dress from me and lays it on the bed before pushing me onto the stool in front of my mirror. After a moment’s disappearance, she comes back with a silver tackle box-looking container and spreads it open on the vanity.
I raise my eyebrows. “Good lord. That’s a whole arsenal.”
She smiles proudly and fiddles with the haul of cosmetics and various beauty tools arranged in the trays. “I may have a small makeup problem.”
“Well, you don’t need any of it,” I tease her. “You’re a natural beauty.”
“Yeah, but it’s fun to play with.” She shrugs with a clearly pleased smile. “Okay, keep your face soft. No frowning. No smiling. Just relax those muscles.”
She pokes at my cheek…pokes again until I relax my face. I sit quietly as she works her magic. Livvie has the gift of gab, and it’s out full force as she layers on the eyeshadow and sweeps highlighter over the rise of my cheekbones.
“I’m so tickled that I’m going to be your bridesmaid!” She lifts my chin. “You should totally let me pick out the dresses. Nothing strapless, of course, and I’ll be subtle with the color.”
“I haven’t given it much thought yet, Liv. This all happened so fast.”
“Oh I know, but really, you should let me just do it. I’ve got a couple ideas in mind already.”
Bridesmaids. Dresses. Wedding planning.
My chest constricts. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I found out I’m about to have a husband, and I can’t bring myself to acknowledge anything related to the wedding.
I just want to meet this man and get the initial awkwardness out of the way.
Besides, what’s the point of planning a wedding you don’t even want?
I hold my left hand out before me. There’s no ring, either.
What kind of engagement doesn’t have a ring?
There was a time when I’d imagined my perfect wedding and my perfect groom.
Dreamed about rose petal-strewn aisles, embroidered ivory dresses, arched arbors dripping with a mix of grapevines and mustard flowers as a nod to the winery, along with fat pink peonies and sprays of ferns and eucalyptus.
The ceremony would take place in our vineyard at sunset so everyone could dance afterward under the live oaks strung with fairy lights.
But that was a long time ago, and some things aren’t meant to be.
“You should wear your hair down tonight,” Livvie chatters. “I’m going to curl the ends, give you some bounce. You’ve got all these stunning highlights from the sun. Italy must be really sunny, huh? It looks like you had these done in a salon. They’re just so perfect.”
She finally takes a breath, waiting, and I realize I didn’t respond.
“Oh, yes. It’s sunny. Even in the winter, when it drops to the forties sometimes.”
“Well it worked for you. Your skin is so golden and glowy. No need for bronzer!”
“Yup. No bronzer for me,” I agree lightheartedly. I want to feel that way. I do. I want to enjoy these moments with Livvie. But all I can think of is that she could have been the one in this seat…the one on the auction block…
She suddenly spins me on the stool. “No more looking until I’m done.”
Minutes pass filled with more makeup, a curling iron, hairspray.
So much hairspray. Then she’s holding out my dress and nudging me to change.
I slip into it and she does up the back zipper.
It’s simple, with a crisscross of fabric over the breasts and a ruched detail on one side of the waist. The hem falls just above my knee, the skirt making a soft flare over my hips.
It’s not terrible, but it’s certainly not the latest fashion. I really should have gone shopping in Italy before I came home.
Livvie shrugs and fusses over the dress, pulling, primping, adjusting.
“It’s fine, Frankie. Put in your diamond studs and you’ll spiffy it right up. Besides, who cares about the dress when you have a face like this? He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
Cupping my shoulders, she turns me to face the vanity.
My brow lifts because surely, this isn’t me in the reflection?
A slow smile tips up my lips. It’s been so long since I’ve dressed up that I hardly recognize myself.
The makeup adds a glamorous kiss to my features and my hair looks, well, stunning if I’m being honest. Soft, big curls bounce around my shoulders and fall down my back.
The dress still screams “outdated,” but Livvie is right.
I add diamond studs to my ears and my diamond drop pendant, and it gives the outfit polish.
I do not look half bad.
“You look beautiful. Stop scrunching your face and contemplating whether you’re good enough.” Livvie squeezes me. “You’re perfect.”
I put my hand over hers and catch her eyes in the mirror.
I’m reminded once again that this has to be me, that I’m glad to take on the burden of this engagement so she doesn’t have to.
Livvie moves to put her things away, talking in a rush about the wedding.
I’m touched that she read my body language enough to know what was playing out in my head.
She still knows what my face scrunch is all about, and that means the world to me.
“Thank you, Liv.”
My phone chirps with an alert that my driver is waiting outside, so I kiss my sister on the cheek, tell her I love her, and head downstairs. I let out a slow breath but it does nothing to steady my nerves. Walking to the front door feels like the path to my doom.
There’s no turning back.
Outside, it’s sunny and bright, instead of the overcast I was half expecting. Everything is golden and brilliant as I slip into the waiting car and sit stiffly on the drive to Bellanti Vineyards.
It’s strange. Only two days ago, I had a sense of who I was.
The person I’d worked so hard to bloom into while I was in Italy.
I’d gotten on my plane back home with a fresh outlook on being a businesswoman, a winemaker, a daughter with a family business.
Confidence, knowledge, physical strength. I’d amassed each of those things.
I feel none of them at the moment. I feel…hollow.
Squaring my shoulders, I sit up straighter, determined not to let this break me. It was my crazy idea to show up to meet my fiancé, unannounced, and I’m going to go through with it wearing a smile. It’s either that or cry, and Livvie worked too hard on my makeup for that.
Movement outside my window pulls me from my thoughts. My throat goes tight as we pass through the elaborate iron gates of Bellanti Vineyards. The place is buzzing with tourists.
A man and woman ride past the car on horseback.
I glance at them through the back window as we pull into the property and slowly roll down the drive.
People mill around, holding glasses and chatting.
Strategically placed café tables sit beneath pergolas heavy with masses of purple clematis.
A tram runs along a track through the vineyard for tours, and I can see more guests on horseback riding along the hilltops.
What I wouldn’t give to be ten years old again, galloping on my pony through the vines, carefree as a lark.
The driveway curves gently, revealing a stately, imposing brownstone building. The windows are trimmed in black cast iron which match the gate and the hinges on the large arched front door. A Bellanti Main Offices sign hangs above the door. This is the heart of their empire.
“Here, please,” I say to the driver. He parks and nods when I ask him to wait.
My insides pull with a thread of longing.
This place is everything my family business used to be, and more.
Now that I’m thinking about it, we have a stable on our property that’s capable of housing enough horses to offer riding tours.
And I’d already planned to create a few intimate seating areas and expand the menu, offering lunch options and picnic baskets to-go instead of just a few appetizers.
Honestly, I was filled with so many ideas in Italy that being here is like a kick in the gut.
The Bellantis have already pulled off everything I had in mind.