Chapter 22
KARINA
Believe it or not, I’ve never been to a baby shower before.
Which is why I’m a little giddy with excitement as Charlie and I finish hanging the last of the cream, dusty pink, and gold balloons and honeycomb balls from the exposed beam ceiling of the tasting room.
The winery is closed today and the tasting room has been transformed into a baby-themed party space.
Each table has an alphabet block as a centerpiece, filled with baby’s breath and tiny newborn-size socks rolled into the shapes of roses.
The caterers have set up a few tables loaded with sweet treats, Bellanti wine and fancy cheese plates, and a full buffet.
It’s like a birthday party, Christmas, and a girls’ night out all rolled into one.
I have to say, I’m truly in awe of Charlie’s abilities.
No wonder she’s such a highly sought-after event planner.
Sure, Frankie had requested something simple and fuss-free, but I don’t think simple is in her sister’s repertoire.
Case in point: the chocolate fountain surrounded by fruit that’s been speared with pacifier-shaped skewers. Adorable.
“Oh wow, this place looks so amazing! Anything left that I can help with?” a voice calls.
I turn to find Candi strolling toward me. She looks like sunshine itself in a yellow dress and matching sandals with her hair pulled into a fishtail braid over one shoulder.
“I think we’re all set,” I tell her. “Just in time, too. The guests are starting to arrive.”
“Let me go put my gifts down, then,” she says. “Catch up with you in a few.”
Soon enough, the room is filled with the chatter of Dante and Frankie’s acquaintances.
Mrs. Abbott and Livvie are there, along with some employees from the winery offices and a bunch of new faces I don’t recognize.
It’s a comfortable group of people of all genders, and everyone seems excited and happy to be here celebrating Frankie.
It’s infectious. I’m calm today; peaceful, even.
Amazing what bringing a new life into the world can do.
I scan the room for Frankie and find her sitting at the head table taking in the scene.
There seem to be a lot of different conversations going on, but she just sits there slightly removed from it all with a content smile on her face and both hands on her round belly.
As I’m loading up a plate with bruschetta, bacon-wrapped figs, sliced melon, and prosciutto, Candi’s trademark laugh reaches my ears.
I look over and watch her for a moment. No wonder she’s in sales and distribution, the way she has a knack for instantly putting people at ease, inserting herself into cliques and conversations with an effortless confidence I can’t help but envy.
Still, there’s no ill will in my jealousy. I’m glad to call her a friend.
Just then, Armani saunters in. He instantly homes in on Candi, as if she’s his own personal magnet.
As he walks over to her, his body language changes.
Back straighter, chest puffed, chin raised.
He’s always kind of intimidating, but I’ve noticed that whenever Candi is around, he morphs into something even more primal.
Possessive, even. You can see it in how he gets between her and everyone else, making it clear that her attention belongs to him.
He leans closer to her, his eyes darkening, his gaze laser-focused.
He takes on the characteristics of a man who wants to lay a claim but is just barely holding himself back.
I’m not sure if Candi’s just flirting her ass off or if Armani has actually managed to say something humorous, but I hear her laugh again, her hand briefly going to his forearm.
“They need to get on with it already,” Charlie says, coming up behind me. She tilts her head at Candi and Armani and hands me a glass of wine. “This dance they do is getting old.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “I don’t think Armani does anything until he’s got it all planned out down to the last microscopic detail. He’s a little OCD, I’ve noticed.”
She grumbles her agreement. “Yeah, that’s for sure. Mr. Control Freak over there. Anyway, why don’t you find a seat? We’re about to get started.”
I nod and head toward the tables, but suddenly I feel like it’s the first day of school and I’m the new kid in the cafeteria. I hardly know anyone here, and I’ve never been great at striking up conversations with random people. When Frankie waves me over, I’m awash with gratitude.
“Hi, Livvie,” I say, taking the empty chair next to Frankie’s younger sister. “How are you, Mrs. Abbott?”
We only have a few moments for small talk before Charlie takes over as emcee and gets the party going with a game of baby bingo.
Dante and Marco arrive a little later, though the shower doesn’t seem to be their scene.
After they mingle with some of the guests, they sneak a few cupcakes from the treat table and then disappear again.
Meanwhile, Armani and Candi are still chatting in the corner, completely oblivious to the party going on.
Dante pops back into the room, grabs Armani’s sleeve, and pulls him out.
Candi watches him go, her eyes bright and a sly smile tugging at her lips.
Charlie was right. It’s like a Bellanti soap opera with those two. I wonder if it’ll be Armani or Candi who makes the first move. Or if they’re doomed to just pine for each other forever in (not so) secret.
We finish bingo and move on to another game involving tiny cans of Play-Doh.
We have to make a baby out of the dough and then dress it in a napkin diaper.
Charlie sets a tube of expensive Diptyque hand sanitizer at each table to clean up afterward.
It seems like a messy game for such a classy group, but everyone is laughing and having a good time.
Greg, one of Frankie’s colleagues from the tasting room, ends up sculpting the best baby.
After one last game, we break for lunch.
The buffet is impressive, and I take way too much food with the intention of stuffing my face with all of it.
The energy of the room is invigorating me and I’m fully present in the moment for the first time in a very long time.
After the hell we’ve been through with my uncle and the rest of the Brunos lately, I’m going to cling to how good I feel today and enjoy the moment. And that includes eating way too much.
Mrs. Abbott fills an extra plate for Frankie so she doesn’t have to get up. I make it back to the table at the same time Frankie’s food arrives. She sighs happily as she digs in, mini cupcake first.
“Thanks, Mom,” she mumbles through a mouthful of orange cake and Bavarian cream filling. “I’m starving.”
“I think my granddaughter already has a sweet tooth,” Mrs. Abbott jokes. “Be sure you feed that baby something healthy, too.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” Frankie promises. “I’ve been craving kale and Swiss chard like you would not believe. It’s truly bizarre.”
Grinning, I pick up my own cupcake and follow suit. My future niece-in-law is onto something. Cake first was an excellent idea. Livvie returns with her own plate loaded with miniature quiches and broccoli salad, pouting when she realizes we’re all eating dessert first.
“So how’s the remodel been going?” I ask, addressing both her and Mrs. Abbott.
“Very well,” Frankie’s mom says. “Livvie’s been helping me shop for drapes and bamboo blinds this week.”
Frankie starts laughing. I don’t get what’s so funny about it until Livvie lets out a groan.
“It’s pure torture,” she says. “All that house decorating crap is so not for me. I’ve never been so bored. I didn’t even know fabric could cost three hundred dollars a yard.”
“Mom!” Frankie gasps, scandalized.
“What? It’s a Schumacher Palampore. Only the best for the B & B. And Livvie, I know it’s not your cup of tea, but you’re doing a lovely job,” Mrs. Abbott says, patting Livvie’s hand.
“That’s because I veto basically everything,” Livvie tells me, rolling her eyes. “It really helps narrow things down for Mom.”
Frankie’s expression grows more somber. She lowers her voice and asks, “Do you feel like you have enough security over at the house? I can always have Dante assign more.”
Mrs. Abbott scoffs, “Three armed men stand on our roof at all hours of the day and night. There’s a guard within eyesight of every entry point, including the windows, and a patrol at the end of the driveway. We’re fine. And thank you. Thank Dante, too.”
Frankie sighs and sets her fork down. “I know it seems like overkill to you, but we can’t be too careful. It’s scary to think of you two staying over there all alone. I wish you’d moved in with us like Dante asked you to.”
“Psh. I’m happy to be home, even if it’s in the process of being turned into a bougie hotel for visiting winos,” Livvie says.
“Dante let me move some of my horses back into the old stables and the house feels a lot different with the reno, and plus Dad isn’t there to—” She abruptly breaks off mid-sentence and eyes her sisters, and although I don’t know the full story, it’s obvious that the subject of the Abbott girls’ father is a touchy one.
Charlie pats Livvie’s hand and says, “We used to daydream about what the house would be like without him in it, didn’t we, Frankie?”
“Yep,” she agrees, shoving a huge bite of kale and quinoa salad into her mouth.
“Well, you don’t have to dream about it anymore. It feels amazing.” Livvie’s mood lightens. “And it’s way better than being in hiding.”
I feel a pang of sadness for her. Constantly moving from safehouse to safehouse was undoubtedly traumatic for her.
I don’t blame her for wanting to stay in her childhood bedroom again, even if it’s only temporary.
Then again, who knows how long it will be before the bed-and-breakfast opens?
Maybe Livvie can even stay there permanently and help manage the hotel.
“You’re safe now,” Frankie says seriously. “And we’re going to keep it that way. Which is why I’m making sure you two have enough protection.”