Читать книгу Feels Like Home - Beth Andrews - Страница 10

“WERE YOU GOING TO TELL me?” Aidan asked as he entered his mother’s spacious kitchen. “Or was I suppose to find out myself?”

Pouring coffee into a mug, Diane Sheppard glanced at her son. Even when he planned on working out in the vineyards all day, he looked as if he’d stepped out of some sort of catalog. He had on loose cargos and a plaid denim work shirt open over a waffle knit Henley. His short hair was neatly combed, the golden strands dark and damp from a recent shower.

As usual, Aidan had arrived at the break of day for a run around the vineyard before returning to shower and dress in the bathroom adjoining his office upstairs. All before she’d even had her cup of coffee.

Her eldest loved nothing more than his routine, his schedules and his family.

It was up to her to help him see there was more to life than the first two. That he didn’t have to sacrifice so much for the third.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, as I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Although she could guess.

Diane sighed. This conversation was not going to be easy.

She tightened the sash of the new knee-length, velour robe she wore over her pajamas. Then again, no one ever said doing the right thing was easy.

“Coffee?” she asked.

Not waiting for an answer, she poured him a cup.

He accepted it without taking his eyes off her. “I’m talking about you hiring my ex-wife to work at the Diamond Dust.”

He watched her steadily, his eyes a cross between her own blue ones and the green of his father’s. But under his careful detachment, she sensed his agitation. His anger.

Her sons. Though they tried, they couldn’t hide anything from their mother.

“I was going to tell you,” she said, adding cream to her coffee before crossing to the large, granite-topped island to sit on one of the high-backed stools, “when I deemed the time right.”

His jaw worked—throwing away all the money she’d invested in his orthodontic care as a teen by grinding his teeth to dust. “I’d say the right time is now. Seeing as how I discovered Yvonne picking through Dad’s stuff at the carriage house while I was on my run.”

“Oh?” Diane sipped her coffee to hide her surprise. “I wasn’t expecting her until this afternoon.”

She’d last spoken to her the night before, when Yvonne had called to let Diane know she’d received the signed contract and the keys to both the cottage and the carriage house. Diane had half thought Yvonne wouldn’t show up at all. Returning to Jewell couldn’t be easy for the younger woman. Not after how things ended between her and Aidan. How she’d ended things between them.

And though Diane had nothing against her ex-daughter-in-law, Yvonne had never struck her as being brave enough, strong enough or self-sufficient enough to tackle the difficult things in life head-on.

Lord knew, Aidan could be all sorts of difficult.

But she’d hoped the promise of a new contract would bring her back. Good to know she’d been right. Again.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Aidan asked.

She narrowed her eyes. But since his reaction—and his insolent tone—were quite understandable, she took another drink instead of calling him on it. “I was thinking that she’d be the best person to plan my wedding.”

“Your wedding. Right,” he said. “Would this be the wedding you’ve moved up by three months without telling your family?”

“I—”

He held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess. You were going to tell us. When you deemed the time right.”

“I was going to tell you,” she said frostily, “at lunch tomorrow. After a few more details had been nailed down.”

“Why move it up at all?”

“Yvonne’s already booked for the summer and this was the only time her company was willing to spare her for a few months.” What she didn’t mention was the exorbitant fee she’d agreed to in order to get World Class Weddings to let their most popular planner leave for six weeks. “Al and I moved the date up so she could take the job.” She smiled brightly, as if Aidan wasn’t trying to skewer her with his glare. “From all accounts, she’s one of the best wedding planners in the South.”

Her stubborn son seemed less than impressed. “And since you hired her to plan your wedding, you decided to throw in a job at the winery as a bonus?”

“I decided that we could use someone with her skills and connections to help get our events business off the ground.”

“Get off the ground? We decided only three days ago to start hosting events. I thought we’d do a little research. See if this idea is even feasible before committing to it.”

“We’re already committed. You and your brothers agreed—”

“They agreed. I just went along with the majority vote.”

As if she didn’t realize how much that had bothered him—no longer having sole authority over all decisions made at the winery. Oh, she was still the owner, but for the past eight years, Aidan had run the company with little input from her. Once he and his brothers became full partners in July, when she retired, that would all change.

“It’s a done deal,” she said. “Which was why I wanted to get the ball rolling. I see no sense in putting this off.”

He stared at her as if he could look inside her head and sort through her lies. “You haven’t had more than a passing interest in the company since Dad died. Why get involved now?”

Guilt squeezed the air from her lungs and she stared blindly at the rings on her right hand. The rings her first husband had given her. The rings that, despite being engaged to another man, despite being in love with Al, she hadn’t been able to take off.

What Aidan said was true. So true. When she’d lost Tom, she’d stopped caring about the Diamond Dust. They’d started the winery from the ground up—literally. They’d planted the vines. Nurtured them and helped them grown. They’d renovated the original farmhouse into the gift shop-tasting room with their own hammers and nails, had come up with a business plan, taught themselves how to run a successful winery.

But without her husband by her side, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with the business they’d built together. So she’d turned to Aidan, who’d given up his own ambitions to keep his father’s dreams alive.

And she’d let him.

“Though I may have taken a…backseat at the winery these past few years,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the base of her mug. “I’m always interested in what’s going on with my company.”

“Funny how your interest just happens to involve my ex-wife.”

“We need her. Connie doesn’t know how to get the winery ready, so I hired Yvonne as a consultant.”

Their vineyard manager, Connie Henkel, had been a valuable employee ever since she’d started working there sixteen years ago. But now that Diane’s youngest son Matt—a noted vintner who’d worked at some of the best wineries in the world—had agreed to join the winery a few weeks ago, Connie had been forced to share her duties with him.

“There’s no way Connie can tackle this job on her own,” Diane continued. “Besides, with her helping Matt manage the vineyards, her time is limited.”

“There’s no need for her to help Matt,” Aidan said as he refreshed his coffee. “He’s more than capable of running things on his own.”

“Keeping Connie from those vineyards is like trying to stop the rain from falling. She loves them.”

“Then I guess you should’ve thought of that before you blackmailed Matt into joining the company.”

“I did,” she said, regret making her voice sharp.

Of course she’d thought of Connie. She’d worried that her decision would push the woman she loved like a daughter out of her life, but in the end, she couldn’t come up with any other way to guarantee all three of her sons returned to the Diamond Dust.

And then two days ago Aidan had offered Connie the job of events coordinator. Eventually, she would learn how to be the best events coordinator ever, Diane was certain of that, and it would ensure she’d always have a place at the winery. To everyone’s shock, she’d not only declined the offer, but had quit her job at the Diamond Dust.

Fortunately, Matt had been able to convince her to stay. And to give him a chance to be in her and her two young daughters’ lives.

Which was wonderful, especially considering that Diane suspected Matt had been the real reason Connie had quit in the first place.

But that didn’t change the fact that their events coordinator knew more about grapes than caterers.

Diane stood and crossed to the sink to rinse out her cup before putting it in the dishwasher, her movements jerky. Aidan was angry. She understood that, accepted it. Just as she’d accept the consequences of her actions, of the mistakes she’d made. One of those being that if things didn’t work out the way she wanted them to, he might never forgive her.

She shut the dishwasher door with more force than necessary. That was a chance she was willing to take, alienating her son. Alienating another son, since Matt still hadn’t fully forgiven her for forcing him to be a part of the business.

“As much as you may not like it,” she said, “Yvonne is the best person for this temporary job. I wouldn’t have hired her if I didn’t truly believe that.”

“She showed me her contract, the agreement you made with her on behalf of the Diamond Dust.” He set his still full cup on the counter and crossed his arms. “I want you to break it.”

Drying her hands on a tea towel, Diane slowly faced him. “I can’t do that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both. I’ve never gone back on my word and I certainly don’t plan to start now. Besides, that contract isn’t only between me and Yvonne, it’s between the Diamond Dust and World Class Weddings, and the last thing we need is another breach of contract lawsuit.”

“We wouldn’t have to deal with any lawsuits if you hadn’t forced Matt to break his contract with Queen’s Valley. Nice that you never have to go back on your word, but you have no problem asking your sons to.”

Okay, she deserved that. Queens’ Valley being the vineyard in South Australia where Matt had been working until three weeks ago. And a lawsuit was a small price to pay for her getting what she wanted.

She laid a hand on his arm. It was a testament to his love and respect for her that he didn’t pull away. “I realize this isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s only temporary. Surely you can put aside your own personal feelings and do what’s best for the Diamond Dust?”

Under her fingers, the muscles in his arm tensed. “Don’t I always?”

Yes. Yes, he did. And that was the problem. His rigid sense of responsibility and loyalty to his family and the winery had cost him his marriage. Now she would use those same traits to push him and Yvonne back together. The rest was up to them.

“Everything will work out,” she promised, patting his arm. “You’ll see.”

He paced to the table, muttered under his breath, then whirled back to her. “You’re playing matchmaker.”

Since there was no use in denying it, she shrugged. “You and Yvonne were meant to be together.”

“We were married,” he snapped. “It ended. It wasn’t some great tragic love story. It was a mistake. One I’ve been over for a long time now.”

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t have done this.”

He nodded once, his mouth a thin, angry line. “When you pulled that stunt with Matt, threatening to sell the business unless he agreed to go into a partnership with us, I thought it was a shitty thing to do—”

“Yes, as I recall, you made your feelings about my decision quite clear.”

“Even though I didn’t agree with you, I stood by you. But there’s no way I’m going to let you control my life. Not like you did to Matt. And just for the record, I don’t like being manipulated.”

“Of course not, dear,” Diane said, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “No one does.”

He stormed out the French doors to the backyard. But unlike Matt, who would’ve slammed the door shut, Aidan barely made a sound when he left.

He’d always been that way, Diane thought as she wet a dishcloth and wrung the excess water from it, her hands shaking. Even as a child Aidan had been in control of his emotions. Couldn’t he see she wasn’t trying to hurt him?

Slapping the cloth down, she scrubbed the already shining counter. She’d seen how crushed he’d been when his marriage fell apart. He’d never gotten over that failure or the woman he’d loved.

Now he could correct his mistakes, give Yvonne a chance to correct hers, as well. And yes, maybe they’d even find love again thanks to what Aidan saw as Diane’s meddling.

She’d brought Matt back, reminded him what it was like to be a part of his family after spending so many years on his own. To be accepted and wanted and welcomed by them. To be a part of his heritage.

It’d been easier with Brady. Her middle son had been so lost. Hurting too much, drinking to numb the pain. Wrapped up in his isolation. She’d given him the choice of either accepting help or moving off the Diamond Dust. Though she wasn’t foolish or arrogant enough to believe her ultimatum had been the impetus Brady needed to turn his life around, she’d take her victories wherever she could get them.

Life was too short not to.

“HELLO, MS. DELISLE,” a woman said in a voice heavily laced with the deep South, when Yvonne answered her cell phone that afternoon. “Your father would like to speak with you. Please hold.” Must be her dad’s new assistant.

There was a soft click, then classical music floated through the speaker—Mendelssohn’s “Spring Song,” if she wasn’t mistaken. Yvonne tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear and picked up two of her suitcases. She carried them down a short hallway, past the tiny kitchen where she’d dumped her work binders, folders, inspiration boards and laptop on the table, to the bedroom at the back of the cottage.

Her temporary home sat deep in the woods, a good mile from the Sheppards’ main house. It was small and sparsely furnished, but she didn’t need much. As long as it had a bed, a closet, a shower and a TV with working cable, she’d be fine.

In the bedroom, she hefted the bags onto the double bed. She was staying whether Aidan liked it or not. Though she’d been tempted to give in to his demands, she hadn’t. Hadn’t given up her own wants to please him.

Not like she used to.

Her movements brisk, she flipped the lid of the larger case open. And he’d been so…shocked. As if the idea of her having the brains—or the backbone—to stand up for herself had never occurred to him.

Arrogant, stubborn man.

After another click on the phone, she heard her father’s deep, commanding voice. “Yvonne. Hello.”

“Hello, Daddy.” She picked up a pile of neatly folded underwear and carried it to the tall dresser next to the window. She could easily picture her father, the chairman of Delisle Enterprises, sitting behind his antique desk, the sun shining through the large window of his high-rise office. He’d be in one of his dark designer suits, the Windsor knot of his tie perfect, his light hair flecked with gray. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if I didn’t have to listen to your mother complain that she hasn’t heard from you in three days.”

Of course. Yvonne should’ve known that Elaine Winston Delisle’s next move would be to have her husband step in.

Yvonne put the underwear in the top drawer, then went back for more. “I’ll be sure to call her today.”

“See that you do. You know how she worries.”

Yes, her mother certainly did that. But he did his fair share, as well. An only child, Yvonne bore the brunt of those worries, the bulk of their love and the weight of their expectations.

And though she loved them, could she really be blamed for escaping to Charleston after her divorce? Oh, she’d tried returning to Savannah, tried to go back to playing the part of dutiful daughter, had even become engaged to the man they’d handpicked for her. Until she’d realized that what she needed even more than her parents’ approval was some freedom so she could finally just be herself.

“Now that I’ve delivered your mother’s message,” he continued, “how’s my favorite girl?”

Not even the warmth and concerned note in her father’s voice could shove Aidan’s words from her head.

Daddy’s little princess.

“I’m fine,” she said, more sharply than necessary. She pressed her lips together. When she spoke again, her tone was carefully modulated. “Everything’s fine, Daddy. Really.”

And damn Aidan for making her feel as if she should be ashamed of her upbringing.

“I still think taking that job at that winery is a mistake,” her father said.

“I appreciate your concern, I really do, but it’s too late for objections.” She dropped her bras onto the dresser. “I’m already here.” And since she could practically hear his disapproval humming over the phone line, she added, “Besides, Joelle asked me to take on this assignment.” Of course, Yvonne had been more than thrilled to accept when Joelle, the owner of World Class Weddings, had told her Diane had asked for her specifically. “And I signed a contract. You wouldn’t want me to break it, would you?”

“When I taught you the importance of keeping your word, I didn’t mean at the expense of your pride.”

She smiled. “I still have my pride. This is just business.” It wasn’t as if she was crawling back to Aidan, begging him to give her a second chance. She was there on her terms.

“I hope you’re right,” Richard groused. “But promise me you’ll be careful. And that this business will remain just business.”

“I promise.” An easy enough pledge to make, considering the way Aidan had looked at her earlier. The only personal feelings that man had for her were contempt and anger. A lump formed in her throat and she cleared it away. “Try not to worry.”

“Of course I worry. You’re my little girl.”

With a small eye roll, she set a white bra in the drawer, followed by a beige one. His “little girl” was a thirty-one-year-old divorcée with a thriving career and, she realized with a frown, an extensive collection of beige bras.

“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” she said as kindly as she could.

“I know that. You’re a Delisle, aren’t you? I just don’t want to see that bastard hurt you again.”

She’d been the one to walk away from her marriage, but her father insisted on blaming Aidan for their divorce. Her mother, on the other hand, believed Yvonne had been a fool to leave a handsome, successful, intelligent man who’d done his best to take care of her.

Yvonne had learned early on it was futile to argue with either of them.

Besides, she couldn’t honestly say either one was completely wrong.

“No one’s going to get hurt.” Least of all her. Not again. “I’m so sorry, Daddy, but I have a meeting to get to. I’ll call Mother later today, okay? Bye, now. Love you.”

She shut off her phone before he could respond.

Not exactly the mature, responsible or brave way of handling a difficult conversation, but an effective one nonetheless. For the time being, anyway.

And she wasn’t lying, exactly, about her meeting. She just hadn’t mentioned it wasn’t for another half hour, that’s all.

She lined up her bras in a neat row and shut the drawer. Someone knocked on the front door. Even as she stilled, her hand on the drawer handle, her pulse picked up. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Then again, why would she be? Only one person knew she was here already.

She leaped for her purse on the bed, digging through it as she hurried into the bathroom. She touched up her lipstick, rubbed her lips together in lieu of blotting with a tissue, then ran her fingers through her hair before rushing down the hall and into the foyer.

More knocks—these rapid and impatient sounding.

“Coming,” she called, slipping her right foot back into one of the black pumps she’d toed off after she’d brought the last of her luggage inside. With one hand on the wall for balance, she put on the left shoe. “Just a moment.”

She straightened and swept back her hair. Inhaled a calming breath and opened the door.

Only to find it wasn’t Aidan on the other side.

“Diane,” she said, refusing to believe the unsettled feeling in her stomach was disappointment. “Hello.”

Diane Sheppard held a recyclable grocery bag in each hand, her smile small and polite. Detached. The same smile Yvonne often used when faced with an acquaintance she didn’t know very well. One she didn’t particularly care to know better.

“I thought I’d drop by,” Diane was saying. “Save you the trouble of coming over to the house and…” She lifted the bags. “I wasn’t sure when you’d have a chance to get into town so I picked up some groceries.”

Yvonne’s mouth popped open. “Oh. That was very…”

The other woman stepped forward, leaving her no choice but to move out her way.

“Thoughtful,” she finished lamely as Diane entered the house and headed straight for the kitchen.

Yvonne glanced from Diane’s retreating back to the porch and back again.

What just happened?

“Are you getting settled in all right?” Diane called from the other room.

The other room where Yvonne had piled boxes and papers and folders and files on the kitchen table to get them out of the way. Horrified, she quickly shut the door and a moment later found Diane unloading groceries onto the counter.

“Uh…yeah.” Yvonne winced and cleared her throat as she tried to straighten up the mess on the table. “I mean, yes. Thank you so much for asking.”

Heat crawled up her neck. So much for her hope that after seven years she’d be more at ease around her daunting mother-in-law.

Ex. Ex-mother-in-law.

They had no ties. Not anymore. Had really had none even when they’d been related. Diane had always been pleasant to her, but their relationship had been merely…cordial. Their only common ground had been their mutual love for Aidan. Now, facing Diane, Yvonne had no idea what to do next. Offer her hand? Too formal. A hug? Oh, God, that was inconceivable.

“Good.” Diane handed her a small bunch of green bananas. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” she said, somehow making what from anyone else would be a request sound like an order.

Yvonne stared down at the fruit. What was she supposed to do with it? She didn’t even like bananas. “I will,” she answered calmly, when what she really wanted to do was shove Diane out the door so she could compose herself. Tidy up the cottage. Realign her thoughts to accommodate the fact that her schedule, her plan for the afternoon, had been changed. “And thank you for the groceries. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble, though.”

“No trouble at all.” Diane set a box of shredded wheat cereal in an upper cabinet. “I was at the store and tossed a few essentials in for you. And since I baked yesterday, I brought some cookies as well.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Chocolate chip.”

Aidan’s favorite.

“How…nice,” Yvonne managed to say lightly. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy them.”

And maybe as she ate them, she could remember how she’d gotten Diane’s recipe and made a batch herself. Because Aidan had asked her to. Her first—and last—attempt at baking had ended with smoke billowing from the oven, a visit from the local fire department and her feeling like a complete failure.

“Aidan mentioned you were at the carriage house this morning,” Diane said, opening the refrigerator door and putting away the milk and butter.

“I got in early and thought I’d check out the building.” She scraped off the sticker on the bananas and rolled it into a tube. “He seemed quite surprised to hear I’d been hired.”

“Hmm…yes…well, that’s probably because I hadn’t told him yet.”

Yvonne set the bananas on the only bare corner of the table. “He doesn’t want me here.”

“No. He certainly doesn’t.” Diane stacked one bag on top of the other and then folded them. “But I do.”

Ducking her head, Yvonne examined the bananas closer. “I appreciate your belief in my abilities. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your wedding is perfect.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. Which is why I’m confident everything will turn out as I’d planned.”

Why Diane’s expression was just this side of sly, Yvonne had no idea. Wasn’t sure she wanted to know. It was enough that Diane had asked her here. She finally had the chance to make a real connection with a woman she’d always respected, but who’d never accepted her.

“That’s why I’m here,” she said with her most professional smile. “To make sure you get everything you want for your business and your wedding.”

“What I want is for my wedding to be the first official event held at the Diamond Dust—a sort of kickoff to our venture into hosting. Al and I have both been married before, so we don’t need all the pomp and circumstance this time around. We want a small, intimate gathering with our families and closest friends. And we want it to showcase the best of the winery so people can see what to expect if they hold their own special events here.”

Right. Could she pull this off?

Yvonne’s smile felt stiff and cold. Or maybe the panic squeezing her throat was cutting off the blood supply to her face. “No problem.”

Diane nodded. “I know this is short notice, so I’m sure you’re anxious to get started. Why don’t you stop by the house tomorrow for lunch? I’ll have a finalized guest list for you by then.”

“That’ll be fine,” she said, calculating in her head how much time she had to get the invitations ordered and sent. Not enough. Not nearly enough. She moved aside the scrapbook she’d made showcasing some of her most successful weddings, so she could pick up the large binder underneath. “I have some invitation samples here,” she said, laying the open binder on the counter. “Once you find a design you like, we can customize the colors and—”

“Whatever you pick will be fine.”

In the act of flipping to a design she thought Diane would like, Yvonne froze. “Excuse me?”

“Naturally Al and I will let you know the wording we’d like to use, but the design, the colors…” the older woman waved her hand. “Those are up to you.”

“You want me to choose your wedding invitations?” she asked incredulously.

This time Diane’s smile was warm, her eyes lit with humor. “Isn’t that what wedding planners do?”

“I help people make choices about flowers and color schemes and menus and music,” Yvonne said slowly. “Everything that enables them to have their dream wedding. Those choices are based on the client’s preferences and their budget.”

Diane crossed her arms over her ample chest and studied Yvonne over her glasses. “My preference is that you plan my wedding—all aspects of it, except for my dress, which I’ve already picked out.”

“But…but what about your attendants’ dresses? Tuxes for the men? Favors and—”

“Al and I are having our children stand up for us. It would probably be best if you let Marsha, Al’s daughter, pick her own dress based on the color scheme you choose, but the boys can wear suits. As for favors…” Diane grimaced, as if a token gift of appreciation was on par with finding someone else’s hair in your dinner. “I’ve never been big on that sort of thing. Let’s just skip that part?”

Yvonne realized she was staring at her with her mouth open. She snapped her lips together. This was crazy. She’d had carefree, laid-back brides before, but nothing like this.

“I’m not sure I feel comfortable taking over that way.” She was excellent at making a client’s dreams come true.

How could she do that for Diane if they didn’t work together?

“Why don’t you put together your ideas and I’ll approve them.”

“I don’t—”

“I’d really like your help with all this.”

And that was the whole reason she was here. Diane needed her. “All right,” Yvonne said. The decision seemed somehow life-altering. Then again, maybe all stupid decisions seemed that way at first. “I’ll have a few sample invitations ready for you to look at during lunch tomorrow. Maybe we can also discuss some ideas I have for advertising events at the winery.”

She’d spent the entire five and a half hour drive from Charleston brainstorming ways to promote the new venture. She wanted to be prepared, to do a good job. Plus it’d kept her from thinking about what a possibly colossal mistake coming back here was.

“I’m not really involved in all that,” Diane said as she headed toward the door.

Frowning, Yvonne followed her. “You’re not?”

“No. You’ll have to discuss any changes or ideas with Aidan.”

Yvonne curled her fingers into her palms. “But you hired me.” She’d thought she’d be working with Diane. Yes, she’d realized she’d have to be around Aidan, but for the chance to finally be accepted at the Diamond Dust by Diane, she’d been willing to risk it.

“Your contract is with the winery, which Aidan runs. For the next few months, anyway.” Yvonne must’ve looked as horrified as she felt, because Diane’s expression softened. “Don’t worry. He’ll treat you fairly.”

“How can you be sure?”

She shrugged, then opened the door. “Because you’re what’s best for the company. Aidan always does what’s best for the Diamond Dust.”