Back To Us (Shore Secrets 3) (24 page)

Casey toyed with the end of her braid. “I swear I’m paying attention, but nobody in town has a stick up their ass about you like they used to with Ward. So I still have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“This whole thing started because I want to make Grandpa Will’s port line a reality. I fought tooth and nail to make it happen. Except...I never really fought the person that mattered the most. When my dad said no, I rolled over. I didn’t want there to be any appearance of family discord at work.”

Ella’s eyes widened, looking like discs of bottle-green sea glass. “You’re going to stand up to your father?”

Even though it sent a roil of queasiness from Piper’s belly up her throat, she nodded. “Ward’s pulled in too many directions, what with the desire to expand, the wind farm offer and his sister’s demands, not to mention the guaranteed backlash and reversion of the town to general hatred should he accept the offer. I can’t solve any of those issues, but I can take away his guilt from not giving me the land for my port line. I’m going to make Dad let me do it on Morrissey land.”

“He shut you down before. Hard, as I recall,” Ella said with a comforting rub of Piper’s arm. “How are you going to make him change his mind?”

“Sheer perseverance.”

Casey snorted. “That’s not much of a plan.”

“It’s all I’ve got. So it’s got to be enough.”

* * *

The combination of determination and desperation that fueled Piper didn’t blank out the strategic part of her brain. So she took the time to go home and change into work attire first, rather than charging up to him in her damp yoga pants and fleece. Dad preferred—well, insisted—that she dress like a successful vintner at all times. That meant slipping into a teal-and-black marled skirt paired with a black sweater, teal scarf and knee-high black boots. Her only jewelry was the silver-and-pearl bracelet Grandpa Will gave her for graduating from college.

The chunky heels of her boots clattered against the floor of the tasting room. Yep, determination was noisy. Piper didn’t care. She headed back to her dad’s office. Thursday mornings were the only time he was guaranteed to be in there, as the finance office held him hostage until he’d signed all the checks. It always put him in a bad mood. Didn’t matter. She was about to turn it from bad to worse.

Although knocking felt anticlimactic, Piper forced herself to perform that particular courtesy. No need to annoy him over little things when she was about to drop a doozy in his lap.

“Come in.”

Sure enough, a stack of checks sat at his right hand. The pen at his left. Her father was ignoring all of them for as long as possible, as usual. A golf blog on his monitor held all his attention.

“Dad, I need to ask you for something. Not a favor, per se. I’m going to call it an opportunity.”

“You sound like you’re trying to sell ice to Eskimos.” He glanced up. “Did one of our vendors get you all excited about a new brand of cork?”

“I’m excited, all right. Excited at the chance to turn Grandpa Will’s dream into a reality.” Piper tossed her hair back. Squared her shoulders. “Dad, I need you to let me move forward with his port line.”

“Absolutely not.”

His automatic response was expected, so it didn’t take any of the wind out of her sails. “See, there’s where this conversation stalled out the last time. Or rather, that’s where your email cut off. But I’m not giving up so easily.”

“Piper, this isn’t up for discussion. It’s a vanity project. Neither a serious money-maker nor something prestigious enough to waste the vine space. It would pull focus from the Morrissey range of wines.”

Voice calm and even, Piper said, “I promised Grandpa Will.”

He tapped a finger against the leather blotter. “Exactly.
You
promised. Not me. And you’ve got no way to fulfill that promise.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Casey and Ella had made a good point that tenacity alone probably wouldn’t get the job done. So Ella had scrabbled together a plan. One which only worked if her father hadn’t had time to catch up on local gossip. Since her parents had just returned last night from a week-long trip to St. Barts, there was a chance her long shot would work.

Patrick rubbed at his temple with a tired sigh. “Piper, don’t play games. I know you’ve run around all the Finger Lakes, trying to scrape up some acreage. And you know I put the kibosh on that. Morrissey Vineyards won’t be diluted by merging with any other winery.”

“You’re right. It won’t be diluted. It would be strengthened. So if you won’t give me the land, I’ll merge with Ward Cantrell. Produce my port line with him.” If he knew that she and Ward broke up, all this would elicit from Patrick was a muffled snort.

The wheels of his chair clattered across the floor as her father shoved backward to stand up. “Damn it, Piper, don’t you see? That’s what he’s always wanted from you. The Morrissey name. That’s all he’s ever wanted.”

“Gotta tell you, Dad. There are days when it feels like that’s all you’ve ever wanted from me, too.”

“Don’t be absurd.” But something flickered across his eyes, a tightening that Piper would’ve missed if she’d blinked. Was it possible that her father regretted some of his hard stances? That he was more than aware that he hadn’t always treated her fairly?

She rounded the desk, pushing into what might only be an imaginary weakening. “Besides, you’re not listening. It won’t be called a Morrissey Ruby Port. Grandpa Will picked out the name himself.
Meditrina
.”

“What?”

“She was the Roman goddess of wine. There’s even a festival called Meditrinalia to celebrate the harvest in October. Grandpa discovered it when he went to Italy. He fell in love with the name.”

“You’re not using it. You’re not letting that Ward Cantrell blemish us even by association.”

“You can’t stop me. This is my line in the sand. Either you let me produce the port line—here or with Ward—or I quit.” She pulled an envelope from her teal alligator-patterned handbag. “My resignation is in here. It’s entirely up to you whether or not I hand it over.” It was a bluff. Piper still didn’t know if Ward would accept her apology. If he’d give them another chance. But she did know that it was about damn time she stood up to her father. Hopefully he’d be so surprised by the threat he’d have to capitulate.

Except that he didn’t look surprised. He just blinked once and said, “You can’t quit.”

Piper could play hardball. She might not be the son he’d always wanted, but she could be every bit as strategic and gutsy when it came to business as any man. “I love working here. I’ll miss it horribly, but we can’t go on like this. You’re not even here most of the time. You don’t have the right to make a decision like this on a whim. Would it be our biggest profit margin? No. Not for several years, that’s for sure. But it’s important. I loved Grandpa Will. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make his dream come true. Including quitting.”

“You can’t quit,” he repeated.

“Dad, you can’t stop me.”

His face contorted. His teeth worked at his lips. “Shut the door.” Leather squeaked as Patrick sank bank into his chair.

Wow. This had to be a good sign. He probably wouldn’t want the staff to hear him apologize. Piper hadn’t expected him to capitulate so soon. She closed the door, then returned to stand in front of the big walnut desk.

“You can’t quit,” he forced out between gritted teeth, “because you own half the winery.”

Piper reached behind her. Made sure the chair was lined up and she wouldn’t fall on her ass. Then she let her numb knees give way. “I don’t understand.”

“Your grandfather left you his half of the winery. In his will.”

She gaped at him. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Bruno Nichols gave me the heads-up before Dad was even buried.” His Adam’s apple worked up and down as what she could swear was regret darkened his eyes. “You were so upset, Piper. You wouldn’t eat. This after staying at the hospital for a week straight. Your mother and I weren’t sure you’d hold up through the funeral.”

“But I did.”

“Yes.” Patrick’s hands moved restlessly in a sweeping motion over the desk. “Well, I ran into Bruce on the course the day before the funeral and mentioned what a state you were in. He didn’t want to complicate your grief with spreadsheets and legalese. I agreed. So Bruno asked me to tell you. When you were ready to deal with it all.”

“Grandpa died two years ago. I came back to work the Monday after the funeral. Since then I’ve represented Morrissey at nine different wine festivals across the country. Went on a girls’ weekend to Manhattan. Threw an epic New Year’s Eve party. I’m not sloughing around in mourning garb, Dad. What exactly, in your mind, would constitute readiness on my part to hear this news?”

“You’re excellent as tasting room manager, Piper. There’s no need to upset the apple cart now.”

“Oh, I’m way past upset.”

“Your mother and I thought—”

She leaned forward, fingers digging into the desk. “I don’t care what you thought. I don’t want to hear the justifications you two cobbled together, year after year. To a certain extent, I don’t care about the legalities of it or the money. Do you realize how much it means to me that Grandpa Will trusted me, had enough faith in me, to hand over his share of the winery? Do you know how much solace that would’ve brought me?”

“I...we...didn’t look at it from that angle.” He reached out to grab her hand. “I promise you, Piper. This isn’t a conspiracy. At the beginning we didn’t think you could handle it. Then it just got easier not to open it all back up.”

If only he’d stopped before tacking on that last sentence. “Half actual concern, half laziness. I get it.” It was a great way to sum up the way her parents had treated Piper for her entire life. And that truth actually drained a little of the white-hot anger away. She couldn’t expect more from her parents. They weren’t capable of it. Their values, the way they lived their life, made them happy. Starting today, Piper wouldn’t judge how they achieved their happiness. Because she’d no longer let them judge how she achieved her own. She stood.

“Where are you going?”

“To the tasting room. To do my job. One in which I appear to have a much more vested interest, suddenly.”

Patrick’s eyes fixed on the white envelope she’d inadvertently dropped on the desk when she sat down. “Are you quitting?”

“Absolutely not. I also don’t plan to stage a coup. Or revamp everything that’s already producing award-winning wines.” She opened the door, purposefully. Raised her voice, just as purposefully. “But I think the entire staff will be thrilled by
our
announcement that we’ll begin implementation of the Meditrina line the moment this year’s harvest ends.”

Chapter Twenty

Nerves, excitement and dread churning in his stomach had Ward pacing the gravel lot behind the opera house. They were deep enough into October now that he buried his hands in the pockets of his fleece. Not cold enough yet to keep people home, though. Good thing. He was already pushing the envelope with this emergency town meeting by disrupting people’s Friday night plans. Hopefully their burning curiosity would lure them away for an hour from beer and baseball playoffs. One thing he could count on was everyone needing to know what everyone else was doing.

Lori turned the corner and beelined right to him. She looked unhappy. As expected. What he didn’t know was how she’d take it out on him. Ward stood stock-still and waited. She stopped about two feet away. Didn’t say a word. But then Lori’s shoulders started to shake beneath her leather jacket. Her face crumpled. The moment the first tear appeared, Ward gave in to instinct and pulled her into his arms.

“Rich left me,” she wailed. And clung to Ward super tight, face pressed against his chest. The crying sucked, but the hug was a nice trade-off.

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t, of course. He and the guys hadn’t
ordered
Rich to leave Lori behind when he split town. But Ward had encouraged him to think long and hard about what sort of commitment and future he and Lori would share now that they weren’t going to have the cushion of a fat payday from Ward. It’d been obvious that Rich only saw Lori as an open checkbook. So Ward was sorry she was miserable, but happy that she could get on with her life now.

“He said that a glorified groupie was just dead weight on the band.”

What a jackass. Didn’t have the balls to break up with her honestly, so he insulted her? “Want me to go beat him up?”

Lori pulled back to look up at him. “A little. Actually, if he wasn’t already on the road to Vermont, that’d be a definite yes.”

“You’re better off without him.” Just like in the old days, he gave a gentle yank to the bottom of her hair. “You’re beautiful, Lori. I bet you’re still as funny as I remember, too. You can do way better than that loser.”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Sniffled a couple of times. And then, surprisingly, her lips quirked up at the corners. “He was bad in bed. Over and out before I even knew it. You bet I can do better.”

God. How was he supposed to respond to that? Ward remembered Lori as thinking all boys were dumb and smelly fifteen years ago. No way could he stand here and listen to her talk about her sex life. They had lots more catching up to do before that level of comfort kicked in. Or maybe, as her big brother, he got a pass on ever discussing it. That’d be good.

“There you go,” he said lamely.

She tucked her hair—blue streaked today—behind her ears. Took a deep breath. And then her lip started trembling again. “What am I going to do now?”

“That’s why I asked you to meet me here tonight. Thanks for coming, by the way.”

A shrug. “Got nothing better to do. We only paid the motel up through tonight. I was kind of hoping I could maybe go home with you afterwards?”

“Of course. It’s your house, too.” Ward held up a hand as she shook her head. “Okay, legally, it isn’t. But that just means you don’t have to worry about paying the mortgage, either. You’re my sister. Anywhere I live will always be your home, too. Period.”

“Thanks. I mean it.” She dug the toe of her cracked boot into a divot in the gravel. “And, um, I’m sorry. You know, for asking for that money from the wind farm. It was all Rich’s idea.”

“I figured as much.” Nice to hear it from Lori directly. To know that she wasn’t the greedy, conniving mastermind behind the stupid demand.

“I’m glad he made me ask, though. It gave me the courage to finally come and talk to you.”

“I’m glad you did. Now we can have a fresh start.” He held up his index finger. “Just one rule. How about we agree to disagree about Mom and Dad? It was their shit that didn’t work out. We just got tangled up in it.”

“Okay.”

“I should tell you that I didn’t take the wind farm deal.” It was wrong on a bunch of different levels. He’d decided that even before the email came yesterday from Zane’s producer friends wanting to invest in the distillery.

“Probably a good idea.” Hand flying to her mouth, Lori tried unsuccessfully to smother a giggle. “All those people in town would’ve shit a brick if you put windmills on the edge of the lake.”

Wasn’t that the truth? Ward sighed. “Yeah. They really would have.”

“So why am I here?”

“I called an emergency town meeting.”

“That sounds like a big hairy deal. Why’d you do that?”

“You’ll see. The point is, I wanted you to be a part of it. See if you can handle being around everyone. Then I thought you could move in with me for a couple of months. Get your feet back under you.”

She looked hopeful for about two seconds before frowning and tugging at her hair. “Tourist season is almost over. Then this place empties out. How will I find a job?”

“Things have changed in the last fifteen years. We stay a lot busier in the winter now. And I’ve got some ideas on a job for you. Two good possibilities—working in a tasting room at Morrissey Vineyards, or behind the counter at Cosgrove’s. Maybe both, part-time. What do you think?”

“I could work with Piper?”

No matter how Piper felt about him, Ward didn’t think she’d hold anything against Lori. Remembered that she had a soft spot for her, in fact. He had no doubt she’d want to help her out. “There’s a good chance. If you ask her nicely. Maybe at the end of the meeting?”

“I will.” Then she threw herself at him for another bear hug.

Ward could get used to this. Having a sister again would be nice. Oh, she’d probably be a pain in the ass some of the time, and they’d have to work out how to live together as adults. But it’d mostly be nice. Step two of his big plan had gone as well as step one—aka, ousting Rich the spineless dick. Step three? The one that mattered the most? Well, he’d know in about an hour.

“You’d better get in there. It’ll start soon.”

“‘Kay.” She hurried inside, with considerably more bounce in her step. Ward felt the opposite. Nauseous. Two orders of onion rings and a bacon cheeseburger nauseous. How come none of his famous quotes mentioned that love made you want to hurl?

Gray poked his head out the door before it closed all the way. “Ready?”

“Hell, no.” This could be his stupidest idea ever. And what mattered most to him in the world was riding on it. How was he supposed to be ready?

“Zane picked up your visual aid. It’s on the podium. Casey’s going to introduce you.”

Ward scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Don’t drag her into this. For God’s sake, I don’t need to be introduced.”

“Makes it more official, with Dawn not here to kick off the meeting. Let her do this for you. After that, if you sink or swim, it’s all on you.”

“That’s one hell of a pep talk,” Ward said, tongue in cheek.

“Aw, you know I’m rooting for you two crazy kids.” Gray clapped him on the shoulder as they walked past the plywood and canvas sets for whatever show the opera house had up next. “When I thought I lost Ella, you told me to stop feeling sorry for myself and fight for her. I’d toss your words of wisdom back at you, but it seems like you’re one step ahead. So good luck.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna need it.”

Gray slipped out the door that led to the house. Loud chatter filled the auditorium. Ward peeked around the red velvet curtain. God. His stomach lurched again. Had to be two hundred people out there. Ward didn’t mind being in front of people. He used to love playing in front of crowds, the bigger the better. But that was when he was certain of what would happen. Had faith in his ability to handle a ball. There was no such certainty about what would happen tonight.

The lights dimmed. Casey, still in her ranger uniform, ran up the steps to the podium in the middle of the stage.

“I’m glad so many of you could make it on such short notice. I’m calling to order this emergency town meeting. Mayor Cosgrove isn’t able to be with us tonight, as she’s currently on her honeymoon with Joel McMurray.” Casey paused to let the shocked gasps and murmurs ripple through the room.

Ward couldn’t believe she’d spilled the secret. Then he realized it was her gift to him. A way to soften up the crowd with the biggest gossip of the year. It’d put them in a much better mood to listen to him. Nicely done.

“In her stead, tonight’s meeting will be led by Ward Cantrell. Please give him your attention.”

A smattering of applause filled the endless moments it took him to walk onstage. He squeezed Casey’s hand in thanks as she went back to her seat in the front row. Watching her blond braids bob, it was easy to pick her out in the dim light and identify Piper right next to her. Piper looked...well, she looked gorgeous, as always. She also looked stunned at his appearance at the podium, and leaned over to whisper furiously to Ella on her other side. Give it a few seconds. She thought she was surprised now? Wait until he started talking.

“Hi. Just to settle everyone down, don’t worry. Nobody stole the town’s money again.” Yeah, it was a lame opening joke. It did net him a low rumble of laughter. “I’ve been told that I suck at asking for help. Well, nobody’s going to say that after tonight.” He spread his arms wide to indicate the entire room. “I called this meeting because I need your help. All of you.”

More murmurs. A little more laughter. “You may not realize it, but some of you helped me already.” Ward picked up the leather-bound mailbox journal from the podium and held it overhead. “In here. I’m the one who asked for suggestions about a month ago. What date to take a girl on to make her fall for me again. That girl was Piper Morrissey.”

Yet another swell of chatter, this time louder. One hiss from the back of the room. “Look, I know we’ve been through some ups and downs. Some of you like me, some of you don’t. That’s fine. But here on the shores of Seneca Lake, we’ve got a tradition of helping each other. Right here in the pages of this journal. It’s usually anonymous. You don’t know if you’re helping the idiot who cut you off that morning or your best friend from kindergarten. Makes it easier to share secrets that way.”

He very deliberately put the journal down on the podium. Moved several feet away. “The thing is, I don’t want to be anonymous. That’s why I called you together, instead of writing in the journal. Certain things shouldn’t be kept secret. Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way, just this week.”

Ward walked to the lip of the stage. “Piper, will you come up here?”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” She enunciated extra clearly. Loudly.

He hadn’t expected her to leap into his arms. But give a guy a damn chance. “Piper, I’ve got three days left. You promised. Please, just come up here and listen to me for five minutes. That’s the last I’ll ask of you.”

It took a few seconds. But then the angry staccato of her heels echoed through the auditorium. At the top of the stairs, she crossed into the light. Tight white jeans ended at hot pink booties. Man, how many other redheads had the guts to wear pink like she did? Her black sweater was cut in half by a wide diagonal white-and-pink stripe. She looked hot. Huh. Dressed right for a Friday night date, not to mope around her apartment missing him. Ward wasn’t sure what that meant. All he knew was that he could stare into her beautiful blue eyes up close one more time.

She leaned close to whisper in his ear, giving him a whiff of her perfume. “Ward, are you sure we can’t discuss things in private?”

“No. I need to say things to you.”

“I need to say things to you, too. But you don’t have to do this. It is, in fact, a very bad idea.”

Ward shook his head. Took her by the hand and led her to the center of the stage. “Piper thinks I’m making a mistake. That I shouldn’t open up this whole can of worms in front of the entire town. But you all were there for my public victories before. Along with my public defeats. So here goes: I’m asking you, all of you, for your opinion.”

“Loving this already!” sassed a woman on the right side of the auditorium.

“I’ve been an idiot.”

“Loving this even more!” someone else hollered.

“I made mistakes. Big ones. I’m not going to explain or excuse them. Except to say as wrong as I was, everything I did came from loving this woman.” He shook his head. Sounded like a soap opera character. And those people usually ended up with six divorces or killed in a fiery boat crash. “Forget that. Still too much of an excuse. I fucked up. No candy-coating it. And I’m sorry, Piper. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I kept things from you. I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you hoped I’d be.”

“Ward, no. It’s okay.” She tugged on his sleeve, looked up at him with beseeching eyes. “Please stop.”

Guess all those years of friendship still counted for something. She didn’t want him to make a fool of himself publicly. But he had to do this in front of everyone. It was the only way to show her just how sincere he really was. “Don’t try to save me embarrassment. I’ll take my licks. I’ll keep apologizing and keep groveling straight through until the leaves come back on the trees.”

“You don’t need to do either.”

Why was she fighting him on this? What woman didn’t appreciate a heartfelt apology? “I was miserable when we broke up the first time. Ten years of living, of dating other people, never diminished how much I love you. There wasn’t a day I didn’t want you back. I wanted
us
back.”

“You don’t understand, Ward—”

God, she was stubborn. Ward cut her off by putting a hand over her mouth. “Let me finish.”

She blinked. Nodded.

He dropped his hand. “I’m laying it all on the line. In the open. No more secrets. Piper Morrissey, I love you. I admit I screwed things up. Twice. Well, as you pointed out, I screwed things up for the town, too. And a good portion of them either forgave me or decided to move past it. I’m hoping you’ll follow their example.” He took both of her hands in his and made the final push. “I want another chance. I can’t promise I won’t screw up again. We all know that’s not realistic. What I can promise is that I won’t ever make the
same
mistakes. I can promise to love you every single day. To work day and night to make you feel as special and treasured as you deserve.”