Chapter 1
Bianca
4 months later
I ’m so gross I can’t stand myself.
I feel like I’ve been traveling for a week, and I probably look and smell like it, too. Ugh.
I’m dying for a shower and a nice bed and I’m almost there, but as I get closer to Oak Creek Canyon, the knots in my stomach tighten and my hands stick to the steering wheel of the car I rented in San Francisco.
I’m almost home.
All my life as the middle kid I felt, well, unnoticed. My older sister Rosa was perfect—well-behaved, top marks in school, just good . Then there was Allegra, the youngest, the baby, fun-loving, energetic, impulsive. I loved wine and winemaking and I had ideas but was brushed off as just a kid. Just a girl. I had a period of rebellion, much to my eternal chagrin. But I also loved my chemistry and biology classes and quietly made small batches of wine that I sometimes snuck into tastings when I was working at Belmonte. People liked them. They were good.
The wines I’ve been making in Argentina are good, too.
Then Nonna died.
Something pinches in my chest. Yes, I left Oak Creek Canyon, but I always knew Nonna was here. Wherever my sisters ended up, wherever I ended up, Nonna was here. She was regular emails and FaceTime and even hand-written birthday cards. She was there for all three of us when both our parents were gone, and I loved her.
I slow the car to drive through the town of Oak Creek Canyon. I may have abandoned my hometown, but I have to admit it is pretty—tidy tree-lined streets, masses of rose bushes, pots of flowers overflowing with colorful blooms. I drive past the marketplace with its red awnings and charming stone walls draped with ivy, a spa with silvery olive trees shading its entrance, the three Michelin Starred restaurant, Old Dove House.
Then outside the town I prepare for the turnoff that will take me to Caparelli.
My winery.
A laugh escapes me. That’s so just so incredible, and yes, my laughter may have a touch of hysteria.
It’s not just my winery—my two sisters and I now own it. I’m not the only one freaking out about this.
I pull in a deep breath and make the turn.
This should be another dream come true—owning my own winery. But it’s more like a nightmare, because Nonna is gone. And also because I’m building a successful career in Argentina that’s important to me and I had to leave it.
Memories of growing up in Oak Creek Canyon flood back, always feeling overshadowed by my sister and cousins, ignored (other than that incident involving beer, weed, and peer pressure when I was a teenager) and less-than. And now—we apparently have a fight on our hands, because Uncle Geno is pissed that he didn’t inherit Caparelli. Since he learned that at the reading of Nonna’s will, he’s been actively trying to sabotage my sister Rosa’s efforts to clean things up. And Nonna is no longer here to act as a steadying influence on our sometimes-hotheaded family.
No Nonna.
My throat aches.
But I’m here. And I’m pissed. Since discovering Nonna left Caparelli to us, Uncle Geno has been playing shitty games with us. He overlooked me one too many times. I’m back and I’m going to make myself noticed whether he likes it or not. I owe it to my sisters.
I spare a glance down the road toward Belmonte before turning into the driveway of Nonna’s old home, a big old Victorian structure. I remember running around inside it and playing outside among the vines. But now…well, it’s seen better days. I slow to a stop and gaze at the house.
The bones are good, but my God, the old girl needs some work. Peeling paint and curling shingles give the house a rundown look, but man, I love that porch, wrapping around two sides of the house. The paint on the columns may be flaking, but their shape is charming, and they look solid. I can picture it with wicker furniture, comfortable cushions, and hanging pots of flowers. And a glass of wine. Of course.
So many memories. After my father died and Mama ran away in a scandalous move people still talk about, Nonna took in my sisters and me and raised us here. But once we grew up and left, she ended up moving in with her son, my Uncle Geno, so the house hasn’t been looked after for years.
The grounds are overgrown, although I can see some efforts have been made to tame things. I let my gaze roam around, taking in tangled vines, thick shrubs, and sparse flowers. There’s still a magic about the place—a feeling of bygone times, family legacy, and heritage. The entire region has a rustic ambience that blends with the history and refined charm of wine.
Another deep breath. But I’m also excited to see my sister, in the flesh instead of on a screen. She doesn’t know I’m coming today. I’m not exactly trying to surprise her, but I didn’t want a big deal made of it.
I slide out of the car, leaving my belongings, and the distinctive clap of the car door closing reverberates around the yard. As I stroll toward the house, a head pops up in the front window—what used to be the parlor. I grin and wave.
I watch Rosa’s face transform, her mouth dropping open, eyes flying wide open. She freezes for a moment, then disappears, reappearing as she throws open the front door, a heavily carved oak door. “Bee!”
She’s so pretty, with her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that accentuates her perfect bone structure and shows off big brown eyes.
I quicken my step and we run to each other, wrapping each other up in the tightest hug. The scent of her hair, the berry scent of the shampoo she’s always used, is so familiar.
“You’re here!” Rosa squeals. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know how all the travel would go and I didn’t want it to be a big thing.”
“It is a big thing! You’re here!”
“I promised I’d be here for harvest.”
She squeezes me again. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too, Rosy Posey.”
“Ugh. Do you have to call me that?”
I grin. “Sorry, it slipped out. How are things here?” I fling out a hand toward the vineyards.
“Uh…well, you’ve been talking to Jake, so I know you’re up to speed on what he’s been doing with the vines. Come on, let’s go inside.”
Ah yes, Jake. Her ex-boyfriend who has suddenly reappeared in her life again. I have so many questions.
We walk into the foyer. With the oak floor, original oak doors and trim, the big oak staircase with the carved newel post, and flowered wallpaper in dark shades of burgundy and navy, it feels gloomy in here. “This place needs some work.”
“I know.” Rosa sighs. “I’ve done a little. Come into the parlor. I managed to clean up in here.”
I follow her into the room. Rosa has fixed up this room, and it’s bright and inviting with late summer sunshine pouring through the window. I plop myself onto the couch. “I’m so tired. If I’m not making any sense, that’s why.”
“That’s why you should have told me you were coming! I could have had a room ready for you. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“Maybe? I don’t even know what day it is.”
She laughs. “It’s Wednesday and it’s nearly noon. I’ll make us a salad in a few minutes. Where’s all your stuff?”
“I left it in the car. I’ll get it in a bit.” I adjust a cushion behind my head and stretch out lengthwise on the couch. “Aaaaaah. It feels so good to lay down.”
“Do you want a nap? I can make up the bed right now.”
“I probably will need a nap, but not now. Let’s catch up. So yeah, Jake’s filled me in on some things. What I want to know is…what is happening between you two?”
“Well, uh.” She runs a hand over her dark hair and looks away, her cheeks getting pink. “We’ve, uh, kind of discovered that the, ah, chemistry between us never really went away.”
I eye Rosa curiously. She’s usually so composed, it’s funny to see her all flustered and stammering. This tells me a lot about what’s happening with her and Jake.
She and Jake were high school sweethearts, but he left abruptly after high school and that was the end of that. Dealing with Rosa’s broken heart back then left me a little pissed at him, to be honest. When I heard from Allegra that Jake is working here and not only that, living here in the house, I was startled. He broke Rosa’s heart years ago and my first worry was that he’ll do it again. I told Rosa that on the phone, but she quickly changed the subject.
“That was a long time ago,” I say slowly. “And there’s still chemistry?”
She nods. “Yes. And?—”
“You graduated high school and he fucked off to parts unknown almost immediately,” I remind her. “I’m surprised you’re even talking to him, to be honest.”
“It’s complicated.”
“No shit.”
She lifts her chin and straightens her shoulders. “There’s another thing. The reason it’s complicated is that…we’re married.”
My jaw drops and I sit bolt upright. “What?”
Rosa licks her lips as her eyes flicker. “It’s a long story.”
I swing my legs over the side of the couch and lean forward. “You can’t be serious. When did you get married?” I nearly shout.
She sucks in a breath. “Ten years ago.”
I fall back into the couch cushions, gaping at her. I literally have no words. I am dumbstruck. Speechless. After a moment of thick silence, I frown and shake my head. “How can that be?”
“I was supposed to be on that high school graduation trip. Jake and I detoured to Vegas, and, well, it was impulsive, but we were in love.”
“Sweet buttery Jesus on a breadstick. A Vegas wedding. I cannot believe this.” I lean forward again. “Why did none of us know about this?”
Her lips thin and she drops her gaze. “Uncle Geno got involved. He convinced me that it was a mistake and I owed it to the family to have the marriage annulled. Then he told Jake that I didn’t want to be married anymore.”
My eyes snap wide open.
“We both signed annulment papers and Jake left.”
“Ohhhh.” Relief sweeps over me. “So you’re not really married?”
“But…”
I tense up again.
“Jake never filed the papers.”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe this.” I swipe a hand across my forehead. “This is a soap opera.”
Rosa flashes a tight smile. “I know, believe me. I thought the marriage had been annulled. I didn’t believe Jake when he said we were still married, but he kept insisting so I went to the Court House, to Public Records, and it’s true…there was no annulment ever filed.”
“Holy shit.” My heart is racing unevenly. “I think I’m having some kind of cardiac event.”
She eyes me with concern.
I suck air into my lungs. “So Jake shows up here and tells you you’re still married, and there’s still ‘chemistry…’” I make air quotes with my fingers. “So you move into together and…what? Doesn’t this seem like another impulsive move?”
“I know it might seem like that. But we love each other.” She drops her gaze to her twisted fingers. “I tried to forget him, but I didn’t. I never got over him. And he never met anyone else he was serious about either.”
I blink at her. I remember how heartbroken she was when he left. I had no idea that they’d actually gotten married. But I did know she really loved him. And honestly…I kind of loved Jake, too. He was a great guy. He was good to Rosa. And then I was pissed at him for how he treated her. “I’m having a hard time absorbing all this.”
“I know.” She swallows but meets my gaze steadily. “All that time apart because of Uncle Geno. He convinced me I’d failed the family by impetuously getting married. I felt like I had no choice but to do what he said. My foolish, impulsive actions had harmed my sisters, my grandmother, my family. I had to make it right. So I spent ten years trying to make it up to him. And by doing that, I hurt Jake.”
I see the anguish in her eyes, along with a pleading look for understanding
She still loves him.
Now I’m even more pissed at Uncle Geno. “Does Uncle Geno know Jake’s back? Of course he does.”
“Yeah. And he knows we’re still married. And he’s furious.”
My eyebrows tug down. “Why? What does it matter to him?”
“Why do you think?” She rolls her eyes. “He thinks Jake could take Caparelli from us.”
“Ohhhh. Of course.” I exhale a long breath.
“I set him straight.” She lifts her chin again.
“Good for you,” I murmur. Uncle Geno isn’t the easiest person to deal with, especially when he’s angry. “Why didn’t Jake file the annulment papers?”
“He says…” Her face softens. “He didn’t want an annulment. He says since he went to all that trouble to marry me, it seemed like a stupid idea to give up that quickly.”
My heart turns to custard. I may be a little cynical when it comes to our family, and when it comes to love I know I keep walls up, but seeing Rosa so in love and clearly happy melts those icy barriers. “I still have questions,” I croak. “But come here and give me a hug.”
I stand and she rushes over and we squeeze each other tightly for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” I say eventually. “I’m sorry Uncle Geno did that to you. Made you stay here and give up your life for the family. And I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
Rosa’s an adult and the big sister who looked after Allegra and me. We were never “best friends,” but we’re sisters and I love her.
“It’s okay, Bee.” Rosa’s face lights up and her smile is soft. “We’re okay. Really.”
She looks…happy. Really happy. Glowing happy. “Sure. All right. Well. Wow.” I shake my head. “Where is Jake?”
Rosa waves a hand. “Out in the vineyard. They’re checking for downy mildew.”
Since he left Napa ten years ago, Jake’s apparently been traveling all over, working at different wineries. He’s now an experienced viticulturalist, and we needed someone to look after the vines if we want to be able to harvest grapes this year. His family used to own the winery next door to Caparelli and he always thought he’d work there, but they just recently had to sell the place, sadly.
“These two kids he hired are working out okay?”
“Yes! I’m so grateful to them, too. I’ve been working on things here at the house and also business stuff.”
“Which isn’t good.”
She grimaces. “Not great, no. But now you’re here, we can really make some plans. We can make wine!”
“Well, not really. Uncle Geno has the wine. What the fuck is that all about, anyway? Nonna left us this winery. That wine is ours.”
Rosa frowns. “Well, he’s been running both vineyards as one for years.”
I shake my head. “Without the wine from last year’s harvest, all we have are grapes, and it’ll be a long time before we’re ready to bottle the juice from them.”
We need that wine. I push back my shoulders, my muscles tightening with readiness for battle.
“I know.” Her lips droop. “And winemaking is what you do.”
“True. But there’s lots to do after the crush. Lots of testing to make sure fermentation is happening properly, too fast or too slowly. Checking sugar and alcohol levels. You know.” I wave a hand. We both grew up in a winery. We knew this stuff by the time we were twelve.
“Yes.”
“And of course I can help with the harvest.”
“So much work.” Rosa sighs.
“There’s something so special about the harvest, though.” I love it when the leaves turn gold and the days grow shorter and cooler. I love finally seeing the results of the growing season, seeing the fruit ripe and heavy with the sweet juice that will become wine, thinking about the possibilities of the wine…it excites me and inspires me.
The decision of when to pick the grapes is so important—they have to be the perfect ripeness to make clean, balanced wines. Leaving the grapes too long ends up with flabby wines that lack structure. Nobody wants a sugary, unctuous Zinfandel.
I didn’t want to come home. But family is important, and the lure of being handed a winery and being able to call all the shots is too good a chance to pass up. I have to admit I’m excited to be part of the decisions this year.
I don’t plan to stay long. I promised Rosa I’d come back for harvest, despite being busy at Castillo Lorenzo. But being here, seeing the vines and the house and the outbuildings with potential for creating a beautiful wine tasting experience, with all its memories and history, gives me this weird urge to make something of this place. To make something special . For Nonna’s sake.
We’ve hauled my suitcases up to my room and I’ve unpacked, had a short nap, and I’m in the kitchen hoping for food when Jake walks in. He’s tanned from the sun, and a little sweaty and dusty. We both go still and look at each other across the room. He’s older—a little heavier, with an attractive beard and eyes that hint at suffering and regret. But when he smiles, crinkling up those eyes, it’s genuine and warm. “Hi, Bee.”
I huff out a breath and move toward him for a hug. “Hey. Good to see you.”
After we separate, he says, “Where’s Rosa?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up. I’m a little jet lagged.”
“No doubt. That’s a long trip.”
“Yeah.” I eye him. “Rosa told me about you two.”
He keeps his expression neutral and holds my gaze steadily. “Yeah? That’s good.”
“I was worried about you being back in her life after you ditched her without a word all those years ago.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t want her to be hurt again.”
He dips his chin in a brief nod. “Neither do I. I promise…I love her.”
“I believe you,” I murmur. “But ten years…you were married and you left for ten years.”
“Yeah. I thought she didn’t want me.”
“Uncle Geno.”
“Yeah.”
“I am so pissed at him.”
“You and me both. I hated him for making decisions for Rosa. For forcing her to sign the annulment papers, for making her feel guilty and telling her what to do.”
My heart squeezes. “Yeah.”
“I still get pissed thinking of her here in Oak Creek Canyon all that time, feeling guilty and like she had to make up for something that wasn’t hurting anyone else.” His voice deepens with emotion. “But I also realized that I was just as bad as Geno.”
I frown.
“I kept her tied to me,” he says quietly. “All that time. I would have known if she was involved with someone else,” he adds quickly. “I would have done something then.” In answer to my unspoken questions he says, “My mom kept me up to date.”
I nod.
“Geno took Rosa’s choice away from her by making her sign the annulment. And I took her choice away when I didn’t file the papers.” His voice deepens with emotion.
I blink. That’s true.
“So I gave her the annulment papers. So she could make the choice.”
“Oh.” My heart climbs into my throat.
“And she ripped them up.”
My eyes sting. I swallow. “Thank you.”
He nods, a half-smile on his face.
Rosa comes in the back door then and halts, looking between us. “Oh.”
I smile at her. “Hi. We’re just catching up.”
“Are you threatening him again?” she demands, going to him and sliding her arm through his.
I laugh. “No. Hey, could we eat? I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Jake says.
Rosa’s on top of that, with food in the fridge—marinated chicken breasts that Jake puts on the grill along with some potatoes and other veggies. She and I assemble a salad and soon we’re sitting at the big kitchen table eating.
“What happened with Take Flight?” I ask Jake.
He tells me about how his mother got sick, how the medical bills piled up, and how his parents decided to retire and sell the winery. I can see it’s painful for him. He loved that winery. It was always assumed he would take over, but…he wasn’t here.
Because of Uncle Geno.
More anger flares inside me. I have many things to talk to Uncle Geno about.
“You want to see the grosso grapes?” Jake asks.
“Ohhh yes. I didn’t realize we had those growing here.”
He mentioned them to me on the phone a while back. A lot of the vines here were originally planted by Italian immigrants in the late 19 th Century, which is why there are merlot and zinfandel and sangiovesegrapes growing here. Grosso grapes are not well known. They’re high in acidity and tannins and are only blended with other red varieties that produce fuller, fruitier wines. I’m super curious about them and what we can do with them.
God, I love wine.