Twice in a Blue Moon (23 page)

Her almost-white brows lifted. “What did you do? Oh, wait, don't tell me. You did what you always do—you walked around acting like the savior of the universe, making imperial decisions, thinking you know what's best for everyone and everything.” She lifted her drink in a mock toast. “Admit it. I'm close.”

He clicked his empty glass to hers. “Dead-on, as always. With the facts
and
the switchblade sarcasm.” He put both elbows on the bar. “If you'll excuse me, I'm really not in the mood to play tonight, Lissette.”

“Aww, I'm sorry, Danovan.” She slipped onto the seat beside him. “I don't mean to be a bitch. Really.”

“I'm not touching that one, either.” When the bartender walked up, Danovan pointed to both their glasses.

For a few moments, other conversations flowed around them.

“I moved out,” she said in a little mouse voice.

That sunk into the self-pity cotton he'd wrapped himself in. “From your parents'?”

“About time, don't you think?”

And he wasn't going
there
, either. “Did you move in with Roxy?”

“Nope. Got a place on my own. I have a job, too, you know.”

He turned to look at her, first making sure his mouth was closed.

She laughed. “Yeah, I know. Kind of shocked me, too. I'm working at an antiques store just down the road from here. It turns out, I like antiques. It's a nothing job right now, but I'm learning, and I hope to become the manager someday. Maybe even a buyer.”

His ex—responsible? Working like a commoner? “Well good for you, Liss.” Wow, if that was possible, what else was? “I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but at the risk of sounding arrogant, yet again...I'm proud of you.”

She ducked her head to hide her blush. “Yeah, well, after Esperanza—I mean, after—” she waved a hand “—then you were gone. My parents tiptoed around me like I was a mental patient. There was really no one left to look at but myself.”

She focused on her fingers, folding the edge of her cocktail napkin. “I was rebelling against my parents even before you came along, but it was so much more fun when I saw how pissed they were that I was dating you.”

“Oh, thanks for that. I wasn't feeling low enough.”

“Aww, Danovan, I didn't mean it that way. You were so sweet, taking on Daddy for me.” She touched his sleeve. “I loved you when we married. I was just too young, and probably too spoiled, not to screw it up.” She sighed and went back to her cocktail napkin folding. “I know you won't like hearing this, but you were a lot like Daddy. Always trying to make the world safe for me. So I think I just transferred my rebellion from him to you.”

Who is this woman?
Not the woman he married, surely.

“I screwed up so many things. There's so much I'd do different now. But it's too late.”

Her big china-blue eyes turned her statement into a question. He just looked back.

She made a sad, disparaging sound. “Yeah, I thought so.” She put on a bright smile that didn't come near to reaching her eyes. “But, hey, I'm a princess, right? I've got that going for me.”

The world had shifted today in more ways than he'd realized. “Ah, Lissette, I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. I earned it.” She waved the subject away. “What if you went back to your Hollywood lady and told her that you're an idiot and you're sorry?”

He just shook his head. “She already knows both those things.”

Lissette slid off the barstool. “Well, I better find out what trouble Roxy has gotten us into.” Leaning over, she brushed her lips across his cheek. “You take care of yourself now, you hear?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

I
NDIGO
SAT
BEHIND
her desk, chair swiveled to the window, waiting for Sondra's car to pull into the lot.

Her mother had always told her to do the dirtiest job first.

She reached for her coffee cup, noting the fine shake in her fingers that came from too much caffeine and too little sleep.

At first, after the showdown with Danovan yesterday, she'd been an automaton, doing what she had to do to get through the wasteland leavings of the day, her brain on autopilot. Once the employees left for the day and the doors were locked, she couldn't avoid thinking any longer.

Staring at the wooden ceiling over her bed in the single-digit hours of night, she had imagined her life as a railroad line. Most of the time you rocked along, enjoying the scenery. Major events were like station stops—pauses in the trip. She'd survived a couple of derailments along the way, but she'd naïvely assumed they were behind her. She'd trusted her gut and watched the tracks retreat into the distance ahead.

But yesterday, the tracks had disappeared from beneath her. And she hadn't seen it coming. It took several hours of staring at the twisted ruin to absorb the shock.

Looking down the track behind her lent a different perspective. She could now see that Harry had taken the role of the father she'd never had, teaching her, guiding her. Protecting her. He'd picked her up and given her back her self-worth, only wanting her love in return. And she had given it readily. She had loved him, with a fierceness she hadn't known was in her. She could only hope he'd known that.

Then she'd come here and hired Danovan. He'd agreed to teach her the wine business. But he'd taught her much more. He'd taught her a different kind of love. A passionate, lighthearted love between two equals.

Except he didn't quite see it that way, did he?

She hurt. Not only because he wasn't the man she had believed him to be, but also because she'd let him in. And now the space that Danovan had occupied inside her ached like a missing limb. But she couldn't afford the luxury of indulging in her heartache right now. No more pretty illusions. She had to clean up this latest wreck and begin laying new track.

So she'd spent the night plotting a disaster recovery plan.

And today, she'd begin implementation.

She was waiting when Sondra stepped into the tasting room and pulled her key from the lock.

“You couldn't turn down a chance to take over, could you?”

Sondra whirled to face her, startled. “Whatever are you talking about?”

But she knew. Indigo saw past the surprise to the thoughts racing behind the woman's eyes. She recognized the look, because Danovan had that same look yesterday. “I think it's time you and I stopped playing games, don't you?”

Sondra pulled in a breath, inflating her imperious suit. “Whatever. It worked. And you're welcome.” She took a step toward the tasting bar.

“Oh, no, you don't.” Indigo dropped an arm—a railroad crossing bar. “Why do you assume that? If it worked, I wouldn't know about it, would I?”

“Winters knows?” Her shoulders caved a bit as the air leaked out of her suit.

“He was here yesterday. Had a little visit with Danovan, tore up the contract and handed it to me before walking out.”

“Oh.”

“Why did you do it?”

More air leaked out in her snort. “Well, I didn't do it for
you
.”

“I'm naïve, not delusional.” Indigo tightened her gut and asked the question she should have asked months ago, but she'd been too afraid. “You've had a stick up your butt about me from the very beginning. Before I prepare your last check and take your key, I'd like to know why.”

“You're
firing
me?” Sondra threw her shoulders back and rose to her full height. The suit inflated in spite of the leaks. “You can't fire me. You need me.”

“Nope. I realized yesterday that I don't. I may not know everything, but I know enough to hire a suitable replacement. One with a better attitude.”

“Oh, really?” Her mouth took a bitter twist. “Fine. Fire me, then. It means nothing to you.” She threw up her hands. “You want to know what I have against you, Little Miss Hollywood? You marry an old man to become somebody. Then, when he has the good taste to die, you take your ‘poor me' show on the road and waltz in here not knowing wine from goat piss. You bat your eyelashes and expect everyone to fall over themselves, teaching you. Well, that may work on men, but it doesn't work on
me
.” Sondra stood, hand on hips, her cheeks a deep shade of rosé. “You have everything.”

Every slight, every insult, every assumption people had made about Indigo gathered, forming a squirming hot ball of outrage. “How dare you?” Indigo leaned in until she was nose to nose with Sondra. “You don't know shit about me. I have nothing. You get that? All I had when I got here was what I'd earned with my bare hands as a masseuse and a yoga teacher. That's what paid your salary until I went out and increased sales.” She spread her arms. “This place is it. It's all I have. And after your stunt was exposed yesterday, I'm most likely going to lose it, too.”

When she stuck a finger in Sondra's face, the woman flinched.

“And don't you
ever
insinuate that I didn't love my husband. Think what you want of
me
, but Harry was a saint of a man, and I'll be
damned
if you or anyone else will wipe your feet on his memory.” Her finger had somehow morphed to a fist, and she shook it in the startled woman's face.

All the air had whooshed out of her. She stood, glaring at Sondra, chest heaving.

Sondra stood glaring back, breathing just as heavily. Then, slowly, her face changed, seeming to collapse in on itself. Her shoulders rounded and hunched. “You can't fire me.” Her voice quivered, as did her bottom lip.

Sondra dropped her head back, and tears traced down the sides of her face. “I have less than you!”

Indigo would have been less surprised if Sondra had stripped off her clothes and danced on the bar.

“Do you want to know where I was yesterday? In court. Divorce court.” She dropped her face in her hands and sobbed. “My husband left me. Left
me
, for a woman half my age...a little chit who does the weather on the local news channel.” She sniffed. “She couldn't tell you her name without a teleprompter, much less the
fucking
weather.”

Indigo's brain tried to assimilate the fact that Sondra had just dropped the f-bomb. “I didn't even know you knew that word.”

Sondra let out a watery chuckle and ran her fingers through the mess of mascara under her eyes. “Well, then, it seems we both learned something today.”

I sure have, anyway.
The ice queen had melted to a sodden mess. Sondra's red nose, blotchy skin and ugly cry proved there was a human in there somewhere. She touched Sondra's elbow. “Come to my office. We'll get you cleaned up and then we can talk.” Sondra would be mortified if anyone saw her like this.

After the loan of mascara and a mirror, and several tissues later, Sondra looked more her old self.

“I really need this job. My husband has cleaned out the bank accounts, and...” Her voice wavered.

“You're not fired. Providing—” She handed over another tissue. “Providing you can accept my supervision. I'll want to hear your advice, but once I make a decision, I expect you to respect it and carry it out. Even if you don't agree.”

“I understand.”

“I know you understand.” She held Sondra's eyes, surprised at how, today, it seemed easier to do. “What I'm asking is if you can accept my authority.” She was never giving up control of something she owned, ever again. To anyone.

Sondra nodded and blotted under her lower lashes. “I can do that.”

“Good. Then I think we'll make a strong team.” Indigo flipped on her computer. “Now. Do you know anyone you can recommend as a new manager?”

“What?” Sondra snapped out of her personal drama and to attention. “Where's Danovan?”

Indigo tapped a key, and the monitor came to life. “I fired him yesterday.” She found her accounting software icon and double-clicked.

“Are you out of your mind?” Her cut-glass diction made it clear the ice queen was back.

Indigo lifted an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat and smoothed her hands over her thighs. “Can I ask why you let him go?”

“By not discussing the problem with me, he put the winery in jeopardy.”

“Oh, I see. He stepped on your little—” She closed her eyes and took a breath, then opened them and tried again. “It's your decision to make. But you said you wanted to hear my advice, so I'm going to give it to you. Will you listen?”

Indigo tapped in the password. “If it doesn't take too long. I have an important errand.”

“Danovan DiCarlo is the best vintner in the area. In a few years, he'll be the best in the state. It was blind luck that you got him to begin with—he can do much better than a small operation like this. Surely you know that.”

Indigo pulled up their cash-flow statement then turned her attention to Sondra. “I really don't have time for past history.”

“Fine. Let's talk about the present. He didn't tell you about the grape situation because he didn't want you implicated if things went bad.”

“That wasn't his decision to make. I should have been informed. I could have been upfront with Winters—about everything.”

Sondra folded her hands in her lap. “And what would you have done if that didn't work out?”

“What I
would
have done isn't the point. The point is, he didn't give me the opportunity—”

“He's in love with you, you know.” Sondra stood. “At least, he
was
.” She turned and strode to the door, her mantle of aloof firmly in place. “I have work to do. You do what you feel is best.”

A half hour later, Indigo was on the road.

“Firing Danovan wasn't a personal thing. It was business.” Saying it out loud helped, even if there was no one in the car to convince except herself.

They'd obviously not been discreet enough, if Sondra knew they'd been...dating. “Okay, so she knew. But there's no way that she could know something that
I
didn't know. That Danovan loves me?”

Unless he told her.

“You do not believe that.”

He told her about the grape fiasco, and he didn't tell you.

“Maybe, but Danovan wouldn't do that. Besides, that no longer matters. I'm about to go into
the
most important meeting of my life. Do you think we could focus on
that
for a minute?”

Silence. Apparently she'd actually won an argument with herself.

For now.

“Oh, shut the hell up.” She turned in at the wooden sign decorated with a horse-drawn sleigh amid snow-covered hills, and the words Winter Wines arching over it. She'd done some homework since meeting the man yesterday. This was a much larger operation than The Widow: seven times the size of their vineyard and twice the production. As for the grapes he didn't use himself, he sold most of them to Bacchanal.

And now her. She stepped out of her car and slammed the door. She stood tall, tightened her sphincter and, guts shaking, tottered in high heels through the gravel lot.

Thanks to a video tour posted on their website, she knew where the offices were. So when the woman in the white apron behind the counter asked if she could help, Indigo told her, “I have an appointment with Mr. Winters,” and then kept walking.

“Let me just page him for you.” She reached for the phone.

“I know where the office is.” She breezed by with a wave, hoping the woman wouldn't call her bluff. Or see the shake in her hand.

Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

She pushed through the swinging door to a hallway of offices. The white shock of hair she glimpsed in the window of the second one supercharged her heartbeat.

Glancing at the ceiling, she mouthed a silent, heartfelt plea then knocked.

“Come.”

She opened the door, strode in and stuck out her hand.

Mr. Winters's lips shifted from a budding smile to a thin line as red spread up his neck. He put his hands on the desk and pushed himself to his feet. “Miss, I can't—”

“Mr. Winters, you and I didn't get a chance to talk yesterday.” Indigo left her hand awkwardly suspended between them, telling herself if he took it, she'd at least have a shot.

Come on...

When her hand disappeared into his broad one, she could breathe again. “I will only take a few minutes of your time. I know you are a busy man.” She retrieved her hand and sat.

“Miss—”

“Please, call me Indigo.”

“Ms. Blue. I don't know what we have to talk about. I cannot sell to a winery that employs Danovan DiCarlo.”

She forced a smile. “Then we don't have a problem. Mr. DiCarlo no longer works at The Tippling Widow, as of yesterday.”

His bushy white brows rose, and the chair squealed when he leaned back. “Is that a fact?”

She leaned forward. “Mr. Winters, I hope to have a long, satisfying business relationship with you. And that cannot be founded on dishonesty. If I say something, you may rely on it being the truth.”

He steepled his fingers and studied her.

She made herself still. On the outside.

He sighed. “He's not a bad guy, you know. He just has some things to learn.”

It was her turn to sit back, fumbling with how to respond. “Sir, I don't think...”

His easy smile didn't simplify matters. “Call me Reece, please. If we're going to do business, we should be on a first-name basis. Now, would you like a tour of
my
facility?”