Casa Parisi Page 3

  "Tell me how to help you."

  "Don't you get it? It should have been me. It should have been me that died, not her. I was supposed to pick up that fucking cake." Lucia pounded her fist on the bar several times. "Fuck that fucking cake!"

  Luke took his sister's hand and held it. "That doesn't change the fact that it wasn't your fault. It was a freak accident. She could have gone to get that cake and come home safely. Why can't you accept that?"

  "I want to. You don't know how much."

  "I'm not going to tell you I'm sorry it wasn't you instead of Devin. I loved her like a second sister, but I also love you and I'm glad you're still here with us." He paused as if he wanted to give his words a chance to sink in.

  "It hurts to be here without her."

  "God, Lucia, I'm sure it does, but you are here and you need to get past this. Maybe you should get some help, talk to a professional."

  She shoved his hands away. "Give up on that idea, will you please? I don't want to talk to a stranger. I've thought about it and I've decided I don't need any help."

  "Okay, okay. Sorry I brought it up."

  "Well, don't bring it up anymore. I can handle my problems myself." Although she'd never admit it to her family, Lucia knew she should have gone for grief counseling a long time ago. Everyone had suggested it at one time or another, but she had stubbornly stood by her refusal to go. She simply could not bear to talk about Devin to some doctor or try to describe how much she had meant to her. She might die if she was forced to remember how warm and soft Devin's mouth was, how sweet she smelled or the way her silky skin felt under her hands.

  Luke was silent as he wiped the entire length of the bar despite having done it earlier. When he finished he came back. "Forget I even suggested it. Why don't you take the day off, go home, and get some rest? We'll be okay without you."

  "I think it would help me more if I stayed here with you. Being alone is intolerable when I get this way and if I don't keep busy I might go mad." She tried to smile, but her efforts felt insincere, even to her.

  "All right, if you think that's the best thing for you."

  "I do. Being around you keeps me sane."

  "I wish you'd tell my wife that the next time you see her."

  This time Lucia did smile and it was genuine. "I'll be sure to do that, although I can't guarantee she'll agree with me on that point."

  Luke smiled back. "She won't. How about some coffee?"

  "I'd love some. The caffeine might help my headache."

  "Luke poured her a mug and fixed it the way she liked it.

  "Thanks." Lucia took her first sip. "God, that's good."

  "Hold on there," Luke said as he brought a bakery box out from beneath the bar and handed her a glazed donut. "Have one of these. I bought them on the way in."

  "God bless you." Lucia took a big bite and chewed it.

  "It's not the healthiest breakfast, but you have to eat something."

  "This will do for now. I'll have a sandwich later on." The donut made Lucia realize how hungry she was. "These may not be healthy, but they sure are good."

  "I know. They're too good. We're going to have a lot of people today. I feel it in my bones." Luke pointed to the windows. "Look at that day out there. It's perfect."

  "So it is. If I didn't know better, a day like this might almost make me believe that the world is a beautiful place." Lucia finished the last of her donut and washed it down with more coffee. The strong liquid had begun to infuse her system with a much needed dose of energy.

  "The world is a beautiful place. You'll think so again someday."

  "I hope you're right." Lucia wiped her sticky fingers on a napkin. "Let me work the tasting bar this afternoon. It will keep my mind occupied."

  "Whatever you want to do."

  "Who's coming in today?" she asked.

  "Kim and Rob," Luke answered. "Kim will handle the gift shop as usual and when Rob comes in he can help you and work the register."

  "What about you?"

  "Since you're going to be here for a while, I'd like to work in the vineyards for a couple of hours and then do some inventory in one of the storage buildings for maybe another hour. Is that okay with you?"

  "Go ahead. Do what you need to do."

  "Call me on my cell if you don't feel good and you need to go home."

  "I will. Actually, I'm feeling better already."

  "Good." Luke walked the length of the tasting bar, his eyes roaming around as if checking to see if everything was in order. Then he came back. "You're all set up."

  "I know. I saw you do it."

  Out of the blue, Luke hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Where is my head at? I almost forgot to ask you how your lunch with Carolyn went."

  "It went very well. I should have called her a lot sooner. I can't believe I've been back this long and haven't bothered to see one of my best friends. It's not right."

  "Was she upset about it?"

  "A little, but she knows what I've been through. I think she was more disappointed that she couldn't be there for me and help me through this."

  "Your friends could be a big help to you if you let them," Luke said. "How did it feel to be back at Cornell?"

  "The campus hasn't changed much except for a few new buildings." Lucia knew that Luke had asked because she'd met Devin in graduate school. They fell in love there and being on that campus would forever transport her back to one of the most treasured times in her life. "Being there brought back memories, but I knew that would happen. What I didn't expect was that I was able to deal with it better than I thought I would. Sometimes I can actually think about her and not crumble into a heap of rubble."

  "See, that proves you're doing better."

  "Maybe," Lucia said.

  "No maybe about it."

  "Before I forget, Carolyn wanted me to tell you she got her PhD in biochemistry and now she's a full professor. We'll have to call her Doctor Kramer."

  "Good for her. She always did have more than her fair share of brains."

  "She sure did. When she described what she teaches and what she does in the lab she might as well have been speaking to me in a foreign language. I couldn't understand half of what she was saying."

  "That's not your field."

  "I know, but I own a winery and I think I should know more about the winemaking process. I should at least know what she's talking about."

  "You'll learn more as we go along," Luke said. "What does she teach?"

  "The biochemistry of fruits and flavonoids--I think that's the right word--and other technical things I never heard of. I can't remember everything she told me, but I know it was about the chemicals found in wines and the processes that affect the subtle flavors and aromas of wines. About half of her work is research."

  "She must be an expert wine taster. We should invite her over and have her try some of ours. I'd be interested in hearing what she has to say about them and I'd enjoy seeing her again."

  "I already did. She's going to call and let me know when she can make it. After we had lunch, she had to rush back to work and we didn't have enough time to catch up on all the things we wanted to talk about."

  "That's something for you to look forward to. Now let's get to the most important reason you went to see her. Did she know of any winemakers who might be available?"

  "She did. She knows a very talented woman. She's a Cornell grad, too, with Masters Degrees in enology and viticulture."

  "Super." Luke appeared pensive. "A woman, huh?"

  "She's a French Canadian. Her name's Juliet Renard."

  "The woman part really doesn't bother me and I don't have to tell you I'm impressed with her credentials, but a Canadian? I thought we were seriously considering hiring a European winemaker like a few of the other wineries have done."

  "We were, Luke, but I liked what Carolyn told me about her. She's not from Europe, but she's had extensive training in France, Australia and New Zealand."

  "That might eve
n be better."

  "That's what I thought. Carolyn told me she heard Ms. Renard was a brilliant student and an innovative winemaker. She was adamant that we should grab her before someone else does. Winemakers like her don't come along every day, she said."

  "That's quite a recommendation."

  "That wasn't all Carolyn had to say. She firmly believes Juliet has the potential to be one of the best winemakers in this entire area.

  Honestly Luke, I think she sounds like she might be perfect for us."

  "I'm beginning to think so, too."

  "And I like the idea of hiring a woman," Lucia said. "She'd have the honor of being the second female head winemaker in the Finger Lakes and given that I'm one of only two women who own a winery here, I'd like to be the one to give her an opportunity to break into a traditionally male-dominated profession. Having her would also get us a lot of attention and publicity and we could use that."

  "No doubt about that. Where's she working now?"

  "She's the assistant at Speckled Toad Vineyards, but she's already given them her notice. She told Carolyn she's looking for a head winemaker position."

  "They make some great wines over there." Luke scrunched his face up and paused briefly. "Wait a minute. I think I read something about her."

  "You probably did. Carolyn said there were quite a few articles about her in the local wine tabloids a while back."

  "I probably read them and then forgot her name."

  "Carolyn gave me copies so you can read about her again if you want to. She sounds like she has all the qualifications we're looking for, doesn't she?"

  "And then some. Did you call her yet?"

  "She's coming Tuesday morning for an interview." Lucia refrained from revealing her excitement as she waited for a reaction from Luke.

  "Great! That's just great!" Luke pumped his fist in the air, the corners of his mouth stretched almost to his ears.

  "I thought you'd be happy about it."

  "You bet I am," Luke said. "You had better make her a good offer."

  Lucia didn't conceal the first genuine happiness she'd felt in a long time. For once she was filled with hope for the future although she knew it probably wouldn't last that long. "I'm Italian, Luke. I'll make her an offer she can't refuse," she said, trying to sound like Marlon Brando in The Godfather.

  "That's funny, Lucia, but you need to work on your Marlon Brando." Luke went on to repeat what his sister had said giving her his best imitation.

  "I can't compete with that."

  "Pretty good, huh?" Luke got serious. "Everything's falling into place, just like we planned. I have a feeling this is going to be our best year so far."

  "I promise you it will be." Lucia understood that he meant the winery, but she had hopes that the next year to be a better one for herself as well. She wanted her life back. She wanted herself back, or at least the best parts of the person she used to be.

  "This winery is growing so fast I can't keep up," Luke said. "The café's finally open and we're getting more visitors every week. This coming harvest will be our biggest one to date and we're going to need to make a lot more wines. In a few years I want us to be the best winery on the lake. I also want--" Luke stopped abruptly. "Listen to me going on and on. We've been over all of this and you want the same things I do."

  "You know I do." For the first time since Lucia had literally crawled out of bed, she felt she had a fighting chance of making it through the rest of the day. A tiny spark of hope flickered somewhere deep inside in the dark desolation that had so often defined her existence these last two years.

  "We're going to get there."

  "You're the one who got us off to such a good start," Lucia told him. The first year, Luke had produced ten thousand cases of wine and they had sold every last bottle before the autumn tourist rush ended. The second year, he tripled that amount and added several new wines to their inventory. He also planted large sections of new vines each spring in order to give them the grape producing acreage they would need to increase their future wine production more than tenfold.

  "I appreciate the praise, but you know as well as I do that we need someone who can make the kinds of wines that will keep us competitive with the top wineries in the state. I don't have that kind of expertise and I can't produce the types of wines or the quantity we need when I have to manage the vineyards."

  "Managing the vineyards is what you love to do and you're good at it," Lucia said. "And the wines you've made for us so far have been very good."

  "Maybe so, but I'll be relieved when all I have to do is grow the grapes."

  "It won't matter how many wonderful varieties of grapes we grow if we don't have someone who can make wonderful wines from them."

  "My point exactly and a lot of them." Luke nodded his head. "The way our wines have been flying off the shelves, we won't have enough to last the summer let alone the fall. We need to get more bottled."

  "We could sell a lot more wine and do a lot more if we had a larger inventory. We could get our wines featured at local restaurants and distribute to local liquor stores."

  "I leave those kinds of things in your capable hands, Lucia. You're the MBA and the marketing executive."

  "Former marketing executive," she corrected.

  "Excuse me. The point is that you're the one with the business degrees. I trust you to hire the right person for the job. After all, it's your winery."

  "I may own it, but I think of this as our winery. You know that. I want to know what you think of her before I make any decisions. I'm not hiring anyone you don't approve of or anyone you don't think you can work with."

  "Fair enough," Luke said.

  Chapter Three

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, ten minutes before she was scheduled to arrive for her job interview, Juliet Renard made a right turn off the main road at the huge wooden sign marking the way to Casa Parisi Vineyards. The golden arrow carved into the sign led her onto a narrow unpaved road that wound down the hill to the winery, which she could see in the distance. There were a number of buildings, many of them utilitarian, but her eyes were drawn to the weathered barn. Because Lucia had told her so on the phone, she knew the barn served as the main tourist building for the winery. It was beyond eye-catching. Its dignified posture and sturdy, seasoned wood seemed to proclaim that it belonged to this land. Surrounding it were beautifully landscaped gardens.

  She'd left her apartment earlier than needed, not because she expected delays and not because she wasn't sure where the winery was located. There never was any traffic to speak of and she had already driven by the winery more than once. Rather, her reasoning had been more about making an impression. In her mind, being prompt would show her prospective employer that she was motivated, punctual and responsible.

  Her line of work rarely required her to dress up, but today was an exception. She'd chosen to wear her new, light gray, spring suit with a simple green silk blouse. The outfit was elegant, yet understated, and if she looked as good as she felt, she was sure to make a good impression. The tailored jacket, sleeveless blouse, and straight skirt were a perfect fit for her willowy body. Even the sales girl had gushed with enthusiasm as she told her how well the colors complemented her fair skin and strawberry-blond hair. A simple pair of half-carat diamond stud earrings was the only accessory the outfit required.

  Hopefully, today would mark a crucial turning point in her career. Until now, she'd always been someone's assistant, but if she took this job she'd be a head winemaker for the first time. Because this winery was a relatively new one, she'd have the opportunity to help them shape their future. That was a prospect she found creatively exciting and challenging at the same time. She had never liked fitting into set formulas or being stuck in someone else's tried and true methods.

  If she landed this job and the owners were amenable, she'd use her skills and training to show them what she was capable of. The degree of autonomy they would be willing to grant her was the number one item on her list of things s
he needed to determine during her interview. She had earned the right to be on her own, had waited a long time for it, and she would not take the job if she didn't get it.

  In the rearview mirror, Juliet eyed the enormous cloud of dust that followed her as her car bounced and rattled down the dirt road. One final right turn led her to the parking area in front of the barn and she all but disappeared into the swirling blur of dust as she came to a stop. She got out of her car, grabbed her suit jacket from the back seat and shook it out. A quick brushing of her skirt, an inspection of her shoes and she was ready. Wearing a fine layer of dust wasn't unusual around these farms, but today it seemed vital that she look her best.

  Walking on the stone path through the flower gardens, she noticed someone peeking out at her through a window near the heavy wooden door. The door swung open just as she reached for the handle and a pair of inquisitive hazel eyes greeted her. They belonged to a striking young woman, more cute than pretty, with short, slightly curly brown hair. She seemed underweight for her frame as if some of her substance had shriveled away.

  "You must be Juliet Renard."

  "I am and I assume you're Lucia Parisi?" Juliet offered her hand.

  "I'd like to deny it, but I'm afraid I can't." Lucia handshake was firm, although a bit hesitant and brief. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

  "I'm pleased to meet you, Ms. Parisi," Juliet said. "I hope I pronounced your first name correctly. I wasn't quite sure."

  "You were close. The emphasis is on the second syllable. It's Lu chee a."

  "It's such a pretty name."

  "Thanks. It's my maternal grandmother's name and I love it."

  "Does anybody ever call you Lucy or some other nickname?"

  "No. I don't like nicknames," Lucia answered. "What about you? Does everyone call you Juliet or do you go by Julie or another nickname?"

  "I prefer to be called Juliet. I like my name."

  "I guess we feel the same about our names."

  "I guess we do, Ms. Parisi." Juliet stood in place, aware she was being scrutinized by Lucia's penetrating stare. Lucia's eyes were pretty enough to hold her captive and yet she couldn't help noticing there was something essential missing from them.