Wed on His Terms: Million-Dollar Marriage Merger. Charlene Sands

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СКАЧАТЬ here, gave her an advance on her salary to get set up. I didn’t think she’d take the job.”

      â€œBut she did. Just like that?”

      â€œYeah, I got lucky.”

      â€œYou got lucky? Joe, the woman is beyond gorgeous. Haven’t you noticed?”

      Joe rubbed his jaw. “She’s attractive, I suppose.”

      â€œYou suppose? Maybe you need better glasses.”

      â€œMy glasses are fine. I’m not interested, Tone. You know that I’ve sworn off women. After what happened with Sheila, I’m basically immune to beautiful women … to all women actually. Ali is smart. She’s dedicated, and she does her work without complaint. She’s very organized. You know how I am about organization.”

      Tony’s lips twitched. “Okay, if you say so.”

      â€œSo, what’s up? You said you needed a favor?”

      Tony tossed the flash drive onto the desk. “I need you to compare these accounts from Purple Fields with ours, for the same dates. I’ve been going over Rena’s books. I just need your expert opinion.”

      â€œHow soon?”

      â€œToday?”

      â€œI can do that.” Joe inserted the flash drive into his computer. “I’ll upload the files and let you know what I find out.”

      â€œGreat, oh and can you burn them to a CD for me? There’s something else I want to check on.”

      â€œSure thing. I’ll do that first.” While Joe burned the information to a disk, Tony walked around the office, noting the subtle changes Joe had made to Santo Carlino’s office. Joe had secured even more high tech equipment than his father had used and updated the phone system. He was determined to make the company paperless, sooner rather than later.

      It would seem that the only thing left from the older generation of the winery were the vast acres of vineyards—six hundred in all—the grapes that couldn’t be digitalized into growing faster and the wine itself.

      After a few minutes, Joe handed him a CD of Rena’s accounts. “Here you go.”

      Tony tapped the CD against his palm. “Thanks.”

      â€œSo how’s married life?”

      Tony shrugged, wishing he knew the answer to that question. “Too soon to tell. I’ll be back later. You don’t have plans tonight, do you?”

      Joe shook his head. “Just work.”

      â€œOkay, I’ll see you around six.”

      Tony walked out of the office after bidding farewell to Ali, who was as intent on her computer screen as Joe had been. He drove out of town and up the hills to the Carlino estate, waving a quick hello to Nick as he drove off the property with a pretty woman in his car. Tony only shook his head at his happy-go-lucky brother, thinking “been there, done that.”

      Tony entered the house and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. Taking a big swig from the bottle, he walked upstairs to his quadrant of the house, entered his private office and sat down at his desk. He logged onto his computer and inserted the CD into the slot.

      He stopped for one moment, contemplating what he was about to do. Taking another gulp of beer, he sighed with indecision, but his curiosity got the better of him. He searched the files and finally found what he’d been looking for. The screen popped up with the title Vine by Vine by Rena Fairfield Montgomery.

      Tony began reading the first chapter.

       Roots.

      In order to make great wine, you need good terroir, meaning the soil, climate and topography of a region that uniquely influence the grapes. A wine with a certain terroir cannot be reproduced in close resemblance of another, because the terroir is not exactly the same. Much like the DNA of a person each wine has a one-of-a-kind profile.

      I guess I came from good terroir. That is to say, my parents were solid grounded people, rich, not by monetary standards but by life and vitality and a grand love of winemaking. My roots run deep and strong. I come from healthy stock. I’ve always been thankful for that. I’ve had the love of the best two people on earth. A child can’t ask for more than that.

      My parents, like the trellis system of a vine, show you the way yet cannot dictate the path you will ultimately choose. As I grew I felt their protection, but as I look back I also see the strength they instilled in me. After all, a new vine needs to weather a vicious storm now and again. It needs to withstand blasting winds, bending by its might but not breaking.

      I remember a time when I was in grammar school …

      Tony read the chapter, smiling often as Rena portrayed anecdotes from her childhood, relating them to the ever-growing vines, taking shape, readying for the fruit it would bear.

      He skimmed the next few chapters until he came upon a chapter called “Crush and Maceration.”

      The crush in vintner’s terminology is when the grapes are harvested, broken from the vine by gentle hands. The crush happens each year between August and October, depending on the kind of grapes that are growing in your vineyard. For me, the crush happened only once. It’s that time in your life when you break off from the ones that graciously and lovingly nourished you to become your own person. I was sixteen when that happened. I grew from an adolescent girl to womanhood the autumn of my sophomore year. The day I met my first love, Rod Barrington.

      I had a big crush on Rod from the moment I laid eyes on him. He was new to our school, but his family was well known in the area. Everyone knew of the wealthy Barringtons, they owned more property in our valley than anyone else.

      While my friendship with Rod grew, I fell more and more in love with him. For a young girl, the pain of being his friend nearly brought me to my knees. I couldn’t bear seeing him tease and joke with other girls, but I kept my innermost feelings hidden, hoping one day he’d realize that his good friend, Joanie Adams might just be the girl for him.

      Tony read a few more passages, skimming the words on the page quickly, absorbing each instance that Rena relayed in the story, vaguely recalling the circumstances much like Rena had written. It was clearly obvious that though Rena had changed the names, Rena had written about his relationship with her, reminding him of the love they once shared. As he read on, the smile disappeared from his face, Rena’s emotions so bold and honest on the page. He knew he’d hurt her but just how much he hadn’t known until this very moment.

      In winemaking once the grapes are gently crushed from the skins, seeds and stems, allowing the juices to flow, maceration occurs. The clear juice deepens in color the longer it’s allowed to steep with its counterparts, being in direct contact with stems and seeds and skins. Time blends the wine and determines the hue and flavor, intensifying its effect.

      And that’s how I felt about Rod. The longer I was with him, the more direct contact I had with him, the more СКАЧАТЬ