21. Bas
BAS
Gemma sat on the edge of the sofa, with her hands pressed together between her knees, staring at the fire.
“I was the youngest lead Lombard had ever assigned to an event for their biggest client—Gannon and Barrow. I worked a few events for them, and apparently, they’d requested I handle one being held at the Legion of Honor.
I was so excited, so proud that night. I could barely stand it.
Everything went smoothly. Not a single hiccup.
Mrs. Lombard herself even stopped by briefly and told me how fabulous it was and that she’d received several compliments.
” She laughed, but not the kind that meant she found anything amusing.
“She even mentioned I would be receiving a bonus in my check.”
“Gemma, you don’t have to do this,” I said when I saw her knuckles were white from holding her hands together so tightly.
“I need to, Bas. I want you to hear it from me.”
“Go ahead. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“At the end of the night, someone found me and told me Mr. Gannon needed to speak with me. It took me a while to find him, and right at the time when I was about to quit looking, he approached me.”
When she took several deep breaths, as if she was trying to keep from throwing up, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hands apart. “Come here.”
“I can’t, Bas.”
“Then, at least let me hold your hand.”
She gave in, and I brushed the back of it with my thumb.
“He said he wanted to thank me for a job well done. That he had something extra special for me. He was standing so close, and he reeked of alcohol. I thanked him, told him I couldn’t accept anything from him—it was against company policy—and that I needed to return to the party.”
My free hand was clenched tightly at my side, and I was ready to put my fist through the wall. I couldn’t, though. That would hurt Gemma more than getting through her story, because it would scare her.
“He grabbed me. He put his hands on me and dragged me into an empty room, then locked the door. I told him no. I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t.
That’s when I kneed him. Hard. So hard that he fell to the floor, clutching himself and calling me every vile name there is.
Before I left, I told him that if he touched me or any of the other women who worked for Lombard, I’d press charges for attempted sexual assault.
He was rolling around and groaning so much I wasn’t sure he heard me. ”
“God, Gemma, you must have been terrified.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t. In fact, I was really proud of the way I handled it. I went home and thought about sending a message to Mrs. Lombard, telling her what happened, but decided it would be better if I waited until Monday and told her in person.”
I sensed what was coming, but let her finish.
“That turned out to be a huge mistake. When I walked into the office, a security guard was waiting for me. He escorted me to my desk and told me I had ten minutes to collect my belongings. At the end of the ten minutes, he’d escort me out of the building.”
When her eyes filled with tears, I reached up to brush them away.
“I tried to argue, but it was no use. I begged him to let me talk to Mrs. Lombard, and he said she wasn’t in.
It took me a full week to find out what happened, and then it was from a girl I’d worked with, not my boss.
She told me she’d heard Gannon contacted Mrs. Lombard the day after the event and informed her I’d offered ‘sexual favors’ in exchange for him letting me handle their events on my own.
Meaning that I’d tried to poach his business.
Then she added he’d relayed he wasn’t the first client I’d done that with and that I’d spent my time working for them, building a list of potential customers.
She said that’s why they had the security guard escort me.
So I couldn’t attempt taking anything but my personal effects with me. ”
“You mentioned it was a week before you knew why you were let go?”
“That’s right, and by then, the story had been circulated to every firm in the city.
I couldn’t even get an interview. It all hurt, Bas, but the worst part was they didn’t even ask me.
Mrs. Lombard never gave me the chance to tell my side of the story.
She wouldn’t take my calls and the emails I sent went unanswered. ”
“You recognized him that night,” I said.
She wriggled her hand out of mine. “I was afraid he was coming to tell you his filthy lies, but then it seemed like you already knew him.” She looked down and shook her head.
“I didn’t know what to think. I know I should’ve come to you then, told you everything then, but…
I have no excuse. I didn’t, and that’s what matters. And I’m sorry.”
“First, you don’t owe me an apology, and second, I’m not upset with you for not telling me. At least not in the way you think. The only reason I’m at all angry is that you’ve kept this inside for weeks. God, months, Gemma. I wish you’d trusted me enough to confide in me.”
More tears ran down her cheeks that I tried to brush away, but there were too many.
“If you want me to leave—”
“Leave? Why would I want you to leave?”
“Because I wasn’t honest with you.”
This time, I did pull her close to me. I held her as she cried, kissed the top of her head, tried to soothe her.
I wanted to tell her how much I admired her, respected her, hell, how much I loved her, but now wasn’t the time.
Not when she might think the reason I was saying those things was because I pitied her.
There was one more reason I couldn’t, and that was because I hadn’t been honest with her, either. I told her I wished she’d trusted me enough to confide in me, but I hadn’t done that with her. She’d even asked me about it indirectly, and my response had been a flat-out lie, not one of omission.
“Come with me, Gem. There’s something I need to show you.”
I grabbed a jacket for each of us on our way out the front door, led her across the dark to the winery, down the stairs, and deep into the cellar to where my two barrels sat.
“You asked me a few weeks ago what I wanted to do when I was growing up. I told you that I wanted to make my own wine someday. What I didn’t tell you was that I already had. These two barrels are it.”
“Bas, that’s wonderful.”
Of course she would say that rather than being mad at me for keeping it from her.
“The juice for this wine came off the half acre at the top of the property. It’s part of a larger vineyard my father always threatened to tear out.
I picked it myself a year ago. I crushed the grapes on my own, and I didn’t tell anyone I was doing it.
Not my dad, not Zeke, and not any of my brothers or sisters.
” I grabbed the thief, opened the bunghole, and drew out some wine.
I released it into a glass and handed it to her.
“I want you to be the first person other than me to taste it.”
“Bas.”
“Please, Gemma.”
She swirled, then sniffed, held the glass to the light, then tasted. She held the wine in her mouth and closed her eyes.
“It isn’t ready yet—”
She opened one eye and put her fingers on my lips, then swallowed. “Be quiet for a minute.”
I smiled when she repeated the process. After the third time, she finished what was in the glass and set it down.
“Well?” I asked.
“It’s magnificent, and it’s so different from anything else Whitmore makes.”
“That’s the idea.”
“Can I ask what’s in it?”
“It’s a unique blend of Charbono, Petite Sirah, Carignane, and a small amount of Alicante.”
“How many acres are planted with those varietals?”
“About two hundred acres, which could yield somewhere between thirty-five and fifty thousand cases a year, depending on the season. Closer to forty in a good one.”
“You’ll sell out every year you make it.”
I picked her up, twirled in a circle, and kissed her hard.
“I’m sorry I kept this from you, Gemma.”
“I understand why you did. I’m sorry I kept what happened with Gannon from you.”
“You know what? I understand why you did too.”
The vintners’ association held its post-crush dinner at the Aldercroft the following week, wives included, and my father had brought my mother to it for thirty years. This was the first time I’d brought anyone.
Gemma was at the far end of the long table with Edna, who’d claimed her the minute we walked in.
I was seated across from her between Hal Brody and Walt Percy while Hal told me what he’d gotten for his Charbono, a number he’d never once shared with my dad.
I wasn’t paying attention to him. I couldn’t take my eyes off Gemma.
She looked more relaxed, happier than I’d ever seen her.
“Bas,” I heard Rand say as he got up from the table. I followed his line of sight to the doorway, where Gannon was standing. All conversation stopped.
“What are you doing here?” Rand asked him.
“I’m not staying. I just wanted to make Bas aware—all of you aware—of the person you’re doing business with.
That one down there,” he said, pointing at Gemma.
“That little gold digger tried to steal my account from her old boss by offering to sleep with me. When I didn’t take the bait, she must’ve moved on.
I wasn’t paying any attention, to be honest, until I found out she got her claws into Bas Whitmore.
From what I hear, Bas has her all but moved into his family home. I’d check your wallets, boys. She’s—”
I hit him. Once was all it took. It was hard enough to land him on the floor of the Aldercroft, with his hand over his mouth, blood between his fingers.
“You all saw that,” he bellowed. “Every one of you. I’ll press charges. I’ll own that winery by spring.”
Gemma hadn’t moved. She was standing beside Edna’s chair, one hand on the back of it, white-faced, and her eyes were on me, not him.
Edna stood, grabbed Gemma’s hand, and walked toward us. Rand tried to stop them, but his grandmother jerked her arm from his grasp.
“We’re all listening, Gemma,” said Edna. “You can tell us what really happened or not. It’s up to you, dear. Either way, we know every word out of this bastard’s mouth is a lie.”
Gemma’s eyes met mine, and she shook her head.
“She’s not ready to tell her story yet, the truth of what happened, but I’m going to tell you what he did to me.”
Rand was standing right over Gannon, ready to level him if he tried to get up.
I told those in the room about him coming to my father, then to me a week after my dad died, then going to my siblings. “He’s been trying to get us to sell for years, and when it didn’t work—”
“He told lies about you,” said Clint.
Hal Brody and Ray Myers stepped forward too. “We knew better,” Ray said.
“The sheriff is on his way,” Hal announced. “I’m not sure what he’ll charge him with, but he’ll find something to keep him locked up overnight at least.”
Gemma walked over to me and put her hand in mine. “I know of something. Attempted sexual assault.”