Page 96
Story: Empire of Seduction
I started with my one-night stand, then Vito’s arrival after he won the winery from my brother. His move to the cottage. Bringing Carlo here. His brother. The alley. Last night. Finally, I ended with the Red Blotch.
“I think you broke my brain,” Sam said, blinking rapidly. “An Italian mob boss who lives in Toronto owns the majority of your winery.”
“Yes.”
“And you slept with him. Both before and after he took over.”
“Yes.” I wasn’t proud of it, but it was the truth.
“But you . . . you never repeat. It’s one of your rules.”
I shifted in the warm water and took a long swallow of rosé. “It’s not arule. I don’t have rules.”
“Uh, yeah you do. No more locals, no repeats. You declared it last year at Book Club. Even wrote it on a napkin.”
I was also pretty drunk at the time. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing. I’m telling you that I’ve lost almost everything and you’re worried about my drunken declarations.”
“Is he kicking you off the property? Is he hiring new staff?”
“No.” I cupped some bubbles in my hand and watched them bounce in the water. “He says he wants to be an absentee investor. But he wants to rename the winery after his family.”
“Oh, Mags.” Sam’s voice was kind. “That has to sting.”
“Yep, it sure does.”
“Do you like him?”
I opened my mouth to sayof course not, but I couldn’t get the words out. I remembered how calm he’d been this morning when I was freaking out over the diseased vines. How he’d found me in the cave and carried me out here to take care of me. How much I liked being with him, in bed and out of it.
What was it he’d said, sono fottuto?I’m fucked.Yes, sono fottuto indeed.
“I think I might.” I whispered the confession into the bowl of my wine glass, then I took a long drink, like I could wash the words away. My gaze remained locked on Sam.
She shook her head slightly, her eyes big and wide. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You can say it. I’m an idiot.”
“Stop. You’re not an idiot. You’re attracted to him, obviously. You hit on him at the casino, after all. And listen, it’s no secret you’ve been busting your ass the past few years, trying to keep this place going. So maybe a rich investor is just what you need. I’m worried you’re going to get hurt, though.”
Me too. “I can’t have feelings for him. He has to go back to Toronto in a few weeks.” And it wasn’t like Vito wanted to date me. He kept reminding me this was nothing serious.
“And he’s in themafia,” Sam reminded me. “Let’s not forget that part.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I wonder . . . ”
She stared off into the distance. “You wonder, what?”
“It’s making me think back to something that happened in the cafe this morning. You remember Jimmy Tate from school?” When I nodded, she continued. “His mother comes in every morning to get a large iced chai latte, two shots, with oat milk. Today, she was nearly in tears. Apparently, he didn’t come home yesterday or last night.”
Thanks to the café, Sam always knew every piece of gossip in town. “Yeah, but didn’t Jimmy join a motorcycle gang? That shit is dangerous.”
“I guess, but I saw Brittany Campbell the day before last—remember how she started dancing at Sparkles when her dad skipped out on her mom?—anyway, she said there was a hot Italian guy at the club the other day asking about the motorcycle guys that had been hanging around there. Jimmy Tate was one of them.”
Sparkles . . . Italian guy . . . “Shit, Vito went to a strip club the other afternoon.”
“Brittany didn’t give me his name, but he told her he was married to a woman named Maggie.”
“I think you broke my brain,” Sam said, blinking rapidly. “An Italian mob boss who lives in Toronto owns the majority of your winery.”
“Yes.”
“And you slept with him. Both before and after he took over.”
“Yes.” I wasn’t proud of it, but it was the truth.
“But you . . . you never repeat. It’s one of your rules.”
I shifted in the warm water and took a long swallow of rosé. “It’s not arule. I don’t have rules.”
“Uh, yeah you do. No more locals, no repeats. You declared it last year at Book Club. Even wrote it on a napkin.”
I was also pretty drunk at the time. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing. I’m telling you that I’ve lost almost everything and you’re worried about my drunken declarations.”
“Is he kicking you off the property? Is he hiring new staff?”
“No.” I cupped some bubbles in my hand and watched them bounce in the water. “He says he wants to be an absentee investor. But he wants to rename the winery after his family.”
“Oh, Mags.” Sam’s voice was kind. “That has to sting.”
“Yep, it sure does.”
“Do you like him?”
I opened my mouth to sayof course not, but I couldn’t get the words out. I remembered how calm he’d been this morning when I was freaking out over the diseased vines. How he’d found me in the cave and carried me out here to take care of me. How much I liked being with him, in bed and out of it.
What was it he’d said, sono fottuto?I’m fucked.Yes, sono fottuto indeed.
“I think I might.” I whispered the confession into the bowl of my wine glass, then I took a long drink, like I could wash the words away. My gaze remained locked on Sam.
She shook her head slightly, her eyes big and wide. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You can say it. I’m an idiot.”
“Stop. You’re not an idiot. You’re attracted to him, obviously. You hit on him at the casino, after all. And listen, it’s no secret you’ve been busting your ass the past few years, trying to keep this place going. So maybe a rich investor is just what you need. I’m worried you’re going to get hurt, though.”
Me too. “I can’t have feelings for him. He has to go back to Toronto in a few weeks.” And it wasn’t like Vito wanted to date me. He kept reminding me this was nothing serious.
“And he’s in themafia,” Sam reminded me. “Let’s not forget that part.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I wonder . . . ”
She stared off into the distance. “You wonder, what?”
“It’s making me think back to something that happened in the cafe this morning. You remember Jimmy Tate from school?” When I nodded, she continued. “His mother comes in every morning to get a large iced chai latte, two shots, with oat milk. Today, she was nearly in tears. Apparently, he didn’t come home yesterday or last night.”
Thanks to the café, Sam always knew every piece of gossip in town. “Yeah, but didn’t Jimmy join a motorcycle gang? That shit is dangerous.”
“I guess, but I saw Brittany Campbell the day before last—remember how she started dancing at Sparkles when her dad skipped out on her mom?—anyway, she said there was a hot Italian guy at the club the other day asking about the motorcycle guys that had been hanging around there. Jimmy Tate was one of them.”
Sparkles . . . Italian guy . . . “Shit, Vito went to a strip club the other afternoon.”
“Brittany didn’t give me his name, but he told her he was married to a woman named Maggie.”
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