Interestingly enough, Carlo would, too.
* * *
Bright and early the next day, while Schuyler was sound asleep in her suite at the Monarch Hotel, the alarm went off.
Normally, she hated wake-up calls or sticking to a schedule. But not this morning. Without a grumble or even a yawn, she threw off the covers, rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom.
She stopped long enough to glance in the mirror, expecting to see her hair a sleep-tousled mess, but it didn’t look all that bad. That in itself was a surprise, but even more so was the smile that stretched across her face. She’d always had a natural effervescence, but it didn’t usually begin to surface until after her first cup of coffee. But then again, today was different. Her wish was about to come true. In less than two weeks, she was going to be face-to-face with some of the Fortunes.
How cool was that?
Yet there was something else giving her reason to celebrate. She was going to see Carlo again.
Dinner last night had not only been delicious and filling, it had been...well, interesting—to say the least. It had also bordered on romantic.
As a rule, she steered clear of men who might want a serious relationship with her. She didn’t need any more people trying to pressure her into conforming to their expectations. But she suspected that Carlo was different.
For that reason, before turning in last night, she’d set the alarm on her smartphone to give her plenty of time to get ready.
An hour later she was driving out to the winery and following the directions Carlo had given her. After turning into the driveway, she couldn’t help easing her foot from the accelerator and slowing down to take in the acres of grapevines growing in the Hill Country.
Another storm had passed through during the night, drenching the area in rain. But after watering the plants and flora, as well as cleansing the air and leaves, it had passed through and the sky was now clear and blue.
It was certainly pretty here in the country. Schuyler had always been a city girl, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy breathing in fresh air and watching the sun set over rolling hills and greenery. Not that she’d be invited to stay at the winery that long, although she’d be up for extending her visit.
She’d no more than parked and shut off the ignition when Carlo came out to meet her. If she’d thought he looked handsome last night, he was even more striking today in khaki slacks and a white cotton shirt—button-down, crisply pressed. Definitely not a Texas cowboy. More like a tall, dark Miami Beach hottie.
“Welcome to the Mendoza Winery,” he said.
She left her purse, a big black Chanel she’d filled to the brim with various items she might need at any given moment, and locked the doors. Then she placed the keys in the front pocket of her jeans and greeted him with a handshake. The formality wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to touch him again, and a hug didn’t seem appropriate. Maybe she’d offer him one when she left.
“What do you think of the place so far?” he asked.
“It’s impressive. You’d never know that your cousin bought it recently. It’s been so well cared for that you’d think your family has owned it for years.”
“It was in the Daily family for generations, and Alejandro purchased it from them.”
“Either way, the grounds are beautiful.”
“Thanks. It’s been a team effort. Actually, it still is. We’re going to expand more so we can offer it as a venue for parties and weddings. Come on. I’ll give you that tour, starting with the sculpture garden around the back.”
Schuyler fell into step beside Carlo. In addition to taking in the lovely grounds, she couldn’t help breathing in his alluring, ocean-fresh scent and losing focus. As they turned the corner and she spotted the sculpture garden, she realized why he thought the setting would be perfect for weddings or special events.
“This is amazing.” She scanned the rose garden, and the manicured lawn that had been adorned with several large sculptures.
“We’re going to plant more flowers,” he said. “And we’ve ordered a Spanish-tiled fountain, which a local artisan is going to create. The stone sculptures were already here—and permanent. But we’re going to bring in other outdoor art pieces and rotate them.”
“That ought to be a nice touch.” She stopped to admire the statue of a cavalry officer mounted on a horse. “This is pretty cool.”
“I think so, too.”
She circled to the front of the horse and placed her hand on its nose, stroking it as if the animal was real. Then she looked at Carlo and grinned.
“Come on. I’ll show you the tasting room next.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. Her spine tingled at his touch, an electrifying flash that shot through her like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. Her legs wobbled, and she nearly stumbled before making a quick recovery.
If Carlo noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead, they crossed the garden, returned to the back of the main building and entered. Just down the hall, a sign on a large, rough-hewn wooden door announced the tasting room hours. He gripped the brass handle and opened it for her, then he followed her inside.
She scanned the open reception area, which boasted high, vaulted ceilings and dark beams, as he led her to a marble-topped bar. Shelves of corked wine bottles awaited the next batch of wine enthusiasts who would come to taste the best vintages the winery had to offer.
“Has your family always been in the wine business?” she asked.
“No. When Alejandro was in college, he got a part-time job working at a South Beach wine bar to put himself through school. And that’s where it all started. He changed his major to agricultural operations and went on to get a master’s degree in viticulture and enology. He also spent a summer in France interning at a vineyard and another summer in one located in Napa Valley.”
“I can see where his interest took off from there. I told you about my friend Calista, whose family owned that villa in Italy. It wasn’t quite the same for me, but her enthusiasm was almost contagious, and I learned a lot during my visits. For a while, I thought about moving there, but my dad had a fit and threatened to cut me off for good.” She turned and studied Carlo. “But what about you? What made you leave Miami to work at a winery?”
“I come from a long line of restaurant and nightclub owners, so I’ve got a solid handle on the food industry, as well as wine. One of my jobs with Mendoza Winery is to run La Viña.”
“Are you the manager?” she asked.
“I suppose you could say that. Alejandro let me have free rein in remodeling the restaurant and hiring a chef and waitstaff.”
“I’d love to see what you’ve done.”
“We’ll end the tour there, then have lunch. In the meantime, I’ll show you the vineyard and the cellar, where we make the wine.”
Carlo led her outside and to a barn, where a red electric car awaited them.
“Oh my gosh,” Schuyler said. “How cute is this? It looks like a cross between a golf cart and a limousine.”
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