He opens the trunk and pulls the two suitcases out before shutting it again. And then, together we roll the suitcases toward the house. “I’ll get them the rest of the way,” Nick says when we reach the stairs leading to the porch.
I hurry up the steps, key in the code to the door, and push it open. Nick joins me, and that charge between us intensifies the instant we are both over the threshold. He sets the suitcases inside the foyer, and drops his jacket on top of one of them. I shut the door. And suddenly we are facing each other, our eyes colliding, that word “home” radiating between us.
The air thickens, crackles, and I move. Or maybe he moves. Maybe it’s both of us but suddenly my purse is on the ground, and we are kissing, a deep, drugging, intimate kiss. His hand is on the back of my head, and God, how I’ve come to love the way he does that. I breathe into the kiss, sink into it and him, and it only seems to ignite us further. And of course, my phone rings. I ignore it. Nick ignores it. I reach for his tie. This time I’m getting it off and every inch of clothing he’s wearing. My phone stops ringing. I pull the silk from his neck, letting it fall to the ground. My phone starts ringing again.
Nick and I both groan. “You better get that, sweetheart,” he says.
“It’s not important.” It stops ringing again and starts again. “Okay. It might be.” I squat down to open my purse and remove my cellphone, frowning when I see the number. “Kasey,” I say, standing up and answering the line. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? The bills are paid. All is well.”
“You called three times.”
“No. I just called once.”
“Oh. The other calls must have been someone else. Hold on one second.” I glance at the caller ID. “Josh,” I mouth to Nick, and I don’t miss the tiny smirk on his face at the reference to my agent, who he clearly does not like.
“Rita was fantastic,” Kasey adds, pulling me back into our conversation, while Nick’s own phone buzzes and he pulls it from his pocket, looking at the Caller ID. “I gave her the accounts payable list,” Kasey continues, “and within two hours everything was paid to date.”
Nick points to his phone and motions down the hallway off the foyer. “No more bill collectors,” I reply to Kasey, following Nick, but as he continues to the living room, I cut right into the kitchen, rounding the island to sit on a barstool.
“Are we sure?” he asks. “This isn’t a one and done kind of thing?”
“Not at all,” I assure him settling onto a barstool, “We’re past the challenges that started when we lost my father.”
“Then you finally got into the bank accounts.”
“Everything is now in my name,” I say, avoiding the topic of my mother and the bank accounts I won’t have access to until Monday, but I already know are empty. “That means I’m free to discuss the future with you, because I know we have a future and one worth your time.”
“Hiring Nick Rogers really made a difference it seems.”
“Nick has made an incredible difference,” I say as he appears in the doorway, his eyes meeting mine, as I add, “In every possible way.”
Nick’s lips curve slightly and he walks to the island, sitting down on the barstool across from me. Meanwhile, Kasey delivers a stilted, “That’s great news,” followed by an awkward pause.
Dread fills me. “Oh God. You’re quitting.”
“No. Of course not. This place is my life.”
Relief washes over me. “Then what is it that I’m sensing?”
“Full disclosure. I just had coffee with your uncle. And since I know how you feel about him—”
My gaze rockets to Nick’s. “Why did you have coffee with my uncle, Kasey?”
Nick doesn’t react and I have a sense that he knew before I did, perhaps from his phone call. “He bought a thousand bottles of wine for a weekend event,” Kasey says. “And not the cheap stuff. Once the transaction was complete he cornered me about you. He wanted me to try to convince you to talk to him. Apparently, he’s left you several messages you haven’t answered.”
“He hasn’t left me any messages,” I say. “Okay. Not recently. And I talked to him two days ago and have no desire to talk to him.”
“I know that your father had issues with him as well, but they did make peace in the end. And now Bill wants to make peace with you.”
I stand up with the impact of that statement. “My father and Bill reconciled?”
“They did. And just in time. It was only about a month before your father’s death.”
“Do you know what the falling out was about, Kasey?”
“No. Do you?”
“I thought I did, but I have a hard time believing they reconciled under the circumstances as I thought I knew them.”
“I can’t help you there. Your father never shared that with me and Bill didn’t either. All I know, is the man seems sincere in wanting to call you family.” He hesitates. “Look. I’m just the messenger and I wanted to talk to you about this now, not tomorrow night, simply because I didn’t want you to hear I’d met with him through another source. We do have some wagging tongues in this town.”
“I appreciate that and I’m sorry to put you in the middle of this. I’ll call him. I’ll make sure he leaves you out of this.”
“I’m not concerned about me, but I am concerned about you. You’re alone, Faith. He’s family.”
“He’s not my family,” I say, and suddenly I want to get the meeting with him over and done with. “Hold on a second.” I cover the phone and speak to Nick, “Dinner tonight?” He nods and I uncover the phone. “Nick and I actually just got into town. Can we move dinner back to tonight?”
“Of course. Where and when?”
“How about the Harvest Moon Café at eight? That gives you time to close up shop there.”
“That works. I’ll see you then.”
I end the call, setting my phone on the island. “Your uncle’s timing is suspect,” Nick says. “What did he want?”
“He bought a thousand bottles of wine and then convinced Kasey to soften me up and look at him as family.”
“On the day you now own the winery,” Nick says. “I’ve thought for a while now that he was behind the bank withholding your inheritance.”
“He’s filthy rich,” I say. “He doesn’t need the winery, nor has he ever approached me to buy it.”
“But he might have approached your mother.”
“Yes. He might have.”
“And she would have told him that you wouldn’t sell.”
“That’s true, too.”
“His wife is filthy rich,” he says. “And the word is that she treats him like a kept animal on an allowance.”
“So, he wants his own assets?”
“It could be that simple,” Nick says, “but I’m still of the belief that there is a hidden financial resource within the winery. And that call I got. That was Beck, letting me know about Kasey and your uncle. He didn’t like how familiar they seemed.”
“They’ve known each other longer than I’ve been alive,” I say. “And they were friends at one point. But I can tell you this. When my father shut Bill out, so did Kasey. He was my father’s best friend. And this is over now, anyway, right?”
“It is, but if I’m right and your uncle was behind this, expect him to try to buy you out.”