Wed on His Terms: Million-Dollar Marriage Merger

Damn it, what did she expect? She was his wife. He would raise her child as his own. They’d both agreed to honor David’s last wishes. That meant living as man and wife and sleeping together. He blinked away anger and guilt then rose abruptly, mindless of his state of undress. “I’ll grab a shower, then I want to go over your accounts.”

Rena glanced at him for an instant, bit down on her lip then focused her attention out the window. “I’ll make breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said. “Coffee will do. Meet me in the office once you’re dressed.”

Rena nodded without looking at him.

Tony showered quickly and dressed with clothes he’d taken from his bag. He put on a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt then shoved his feet into a pair of seasoned white Nike shoes.

He heard kitchen sounds as he walked down the hallway, the aroma of hot coffee brewing, whetting his taste buds. But instead of greeting his new wife in the kitchen, he strode outside and closed the door. The northern California air was crisp and fresh, the brilliant sky laced with white puffy clouds.

He filled his lungs several times, breathing in and out slowly, enjoying the pristine air. The vineyards were far removed from the city, elevated to some degree, the vistas spread out before him, glorious. Funny, as a young boy, he’d had no appreciation for the land or its beauty and solitude. He’d never seen this country as his father had seen it.

Now he’d make a life here. The irony that his father was getting what he wanted in death, rather than in life, was never far from his mind.

Tony entered the office adjacent to the gift shop with the key Rena had left for him on her dresser. He glanced around, noting two tall file cabinets, an outdated computer, a desk that had seen better days and shelves displaying certificates, wine awards and pictures of Rena and David. He walked over and picked one up that was encased in a walnut frame. He looked at the image of the couple standing among the vines ripe with cabernet grapes.

“It was a good year for cabernet. Our fifth anniversary.” Rena walked into the office with a cup of coffee and set it down on the desk.

Tony stared at the photo. “You look happy.”

“David made me dinner that night. He set up twinkling lights out on the patio. We danced in the moonlight.”

Tony put the frame back, deciding not to comment. What could he say to that? “Thanks for the coffee.”

She shrugged. “Well, this is the office. Our accounts for the past ten years are in those file cabinets.”

Tony picked up the coffee cup and sipped. The liquid went down hot and delicious, just what he needed. “I’ll start with the past year and work my way backward.”

“Okay, I’ll get those for you.”

“Are they all paper files? Do you have anything loaded into the computer?”

Rena glanced at the machine. “We have our inventory computerized now. And David had started to enter the paper files. But he didn’t get very far, I’m afraid.”

Tony sat down at the desk and signed on. “Want to show me where everything is?”

Rena came close, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. She bent over the computer, clicking keys. Her clean scent wafted in the air. “What is that?” he asked.

She looked at him in question. “What?”

“You smell great.”

She smiled softly. “It’s citrus shampoo.”

Tony met her eyes, then took her hand gently. “Rena … listen, about this morning.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Don’t, Tony. I can’t help how I feel.”

“How do you feel?”

She hesitated for a moment, but Tony fixed his gaze on her and wouldn’t back down. She sighed quietly. “Like I sold my soul.”

“To the devil?”

Her lips tightened as if holding back a comment.

Tony leaned in his chair, releasing her hand. “Physically, are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m fine. I see the doctor next week, but I’m healthy.”

She continued clicking on keys, showing him where the files were kept and how to access them. Then she came upon a document and lingered, her gaze drawn to the words on the screen: Vine by Vine. “Don’t worry about this,” she said, her finger on the delete button.

“Wait.” Tony stopped her. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing.” Rena said, but he wouldn’t let it go. Something in her eyes told him, whatever it was, it was important to her.

“I need to see everything, Rena. If I’m going to help you.”

“It’s got nothing to do with the accounts, Tony. Trust me.”

“So why won’t you let me see it?” Determined, he pressed her.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Rena straightened, her eyes sparkling like blue diamonds. “It’s just a story I was writing.”

“A story?“ That sparked his curiosity. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a girl growing up in the wine country.”

“It’s about you?”

“No, it’s a novel. It’s fiction, but yes, I guess some of it is about what I know and how I feel about living here. It’s sort of a wine guide but told from a different perspective. It’s an analogy of how a girl grows to womanhood—”

“And you relate that to how a vine grows? Sort of like, how you need to be cared for and loved and nourished.”

“Yeah,” she said, her expression softening. “Something like that.”

“You’re not finished with it?”

She made a self-deprecating sound. “No, I’d forgotten about it. There’s too much to do around here.” She shrugged it off. “I never found the time.”

“Maybe someday you’ll have time to finish it.”

Rena stared deeply into his eyes. “Right now, I’m more interested in saving my winery.”

Tony glanced at the computer screen, satisfied that she’d removed her finger from the delete button. “Agreed. That’s the first order of business. We have to find a way to keep Purple Fields afloat.”

Rena walked into the gift shop through a door adjacent to the office, leaving Tony to work his magic on their books. She’d given him all the files, answered his questions and left once he was neck-deep in the accounts, unaware of her presence any longer.