Page 36 of Empire of Seduction (New York State of Mafia #2)

He put his hands on his hips and stared at the Cabernet Franc vines. “I’m concerned you have Red Blotch.”

My mouth fell open. Red Blotch was a fairly new virus and it could wipe out vineyards. “No, that can’t be right. It’s only been found in California and Oregon.”

“And New York,” Carlo said. “Two cases last year.”

Unfortunately, I hadn’t kept up with local winery news. I was too busy and . . . Shit . I regarded my little babies, the dormant vines that I’d poured my blood, sweat and tears into. “Show me.”

“It takes time to develop. I could be wrong.”

Carlo, the world’s premier oenologist, wrong? I doubted it. That meant we would need to rip out these vines. We’d lose entire sections of the vineyard. And why hadn’t I noticed it?

Because you’re terrible at this. Dad would’ve caught it. Grandad would’ve caught it.

“Carlo, please. Show me before I start freaking out.”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “Maggie, breathe. Red Blotch is hard to spot. Many vines don’t show symptoms at all.”

“Yet you spotted it right away.”

“I didn’t spot it because there are no leaves to confirm it. As I said, it’s just a feeling based on what I’ve tasted and what I’m seeing here.” He dropped his hands. “But we shouldn’t panic.”

“Too late. What can we do?”

“I’ll take cortical scrapings of a few random shoots and get them analyzed today with the rest.”

“Do you want me to drive up to Cornell?” The university was about three hours away, and I didn’t want to force Carlo to make such a long journey.

He shook his head and reached for his shovel. “I don’t mind. I am anxious to meet their staff and see their facilities. Let’s finish these soil samples, then we’ll get the scrapings ready to go.”

He walked to his section, while I stared at the vines and wondered what I had missed.

Wouldn’t I have noticed red marks on the leaves at some point in the fall?

Wouldn’t the staff have noticed as we were harvesting the grapes?

How had this slipped through the cracks?

That was the thing about nature: no matter how competent you think you are, it always finds a way to humble you.

“Signorina!” Carlo called. He was toeing some dirt around and beckoned me over. “Come look.”

I went to see what he’d found. We both bent down and he picked up a few of the leaves leftover from the harvest that had been unearthed under the mulch. A tiny dark spot dotted the edge of one. It appeared brown at the moment, but it could have been red at one time.

“Goddamn it,” I snapped.

“It might not be Red Blotch,” Carlo said calmly. “This leaf is old, so we can’t tell for sure until the tissue samples come back. But it’s definitely something. ”

“We’ll have to rip this entire section out.”

He straightened and folded his arms. “That would be the best-case scenario, no?”

Oh, god. I could lose all the plants.

Head swirling, I bent over and took a few deep breaths. This was too much. On top of everything else, this was too fucking much. Why did the universe hate me so badly?

“Che cosa?” a deep voice called down the row. “Are you sick?”

I lifted my head and caught Vito walking toward me, his long limbs clad in a suit and his black overcoat. Strange, but I didn’t find his presence annoying. Instead, a giant wave of relief went through me. I suddenly had an impulse to run up and throw myself in his strong arms.

As a card-carrying feminist, that impulse was concerning. But the vineyard wasn’t just my problem anymore—it was our problem. And that idea was . . . not terrible.

“We might have Red Blotch,” I blurted. “And you should fire me.”

He barely reacted, just a twitch of his nostrils as he came over. His tone remained even and calm in the face of my panic. “I’m not firing you. What is Red Blotch?”

Carlo gave the boss a quick rundown while I tried not to think about all the years of hard work that were now ruined. I couldn’t remember the last time entire rows of vines had to be ripped out. My dad was still alive, so maybe twelve years ago?

First, Mikey had lost the vineyard, and now I’d actually lost the vineyard. I massaged my temples with my fingertips and tried not to freak out.

When Carlo finished, Vito rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, his gaze on the horizon. “So, the cause is unknown, correct?”

“Correct,” Carlo answered. “We will know when the tissue samples come back.”

“But you think it is a virus of some kind.”

“Yes, I do.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I should’ve caught it. This is on me. I’m in charge of the vineyard.” I squared my shoulders. “We’ll lose all the affected vines. You should fire me.”

Vito’s cool mask was firmly in place when he jerked his head toward the side. “Walk with me.”

I promised Carlo I would return shortly, then fell in step next to Vito.

He didn’t walk quickly. Instead, he slowed and matched my stride to his, and we didn’t speak as he led us deeper into the vineyard.

I wasn’t one for hysterics, but I could feel myself spiraling.

This was a catastrophe of epic proportions. All the money that would be lost . . .

What if the entire vineyard was affected? What if we had to rip out every root?

“Vito—”

“Take a deep breath,” he murmured, clasping his hands behind his back. “This is a problem to solve and I will help you and Carlo solve it. Capisce?”

“It’s more than a problem to solve. It’s a goddamn disaster. We could lose everything.”

“Carlo said it should only affect a section, maybe two. Regardless, we will not let this place fail. Things happen, but this isn’t the end of the world.”

“Just the end of the vineyard.”

“Viruses happen in vineyards.” He spoke patiently, as if dealing with a hysterical child. “You know that as well as I do. And if we must buy new plants, then we will buy new plants. We come up with a plan and follow it through.”

He made it sound so easy. But I knew how much work went into replanting and nurturing new vines. It would take time. And a lot of money. This didn’t come cheaply.

Worse though, it was a blow to my pride.

I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t noticed and I should have.

“It’s my job. I didn’t do it. Everything we harvested in the fall could be affected.

” God , I had to tell Bruce. He would need to dump the recent Cabernet Franc, at the very least. I dragged in a ragged breath. All that effort and cost?—

Vito stopped and put both hands on my shoulders. His midnight-colored eyes radiated calmness in the gray morning light. “What could you possibly have done differently, if you’d noticed it? Bella, you aren’t perfect. And it is bad, yes, but no one died. This can be rebuilt.”

I nibbled my bottom lip. Why didn’t he understand?

Maybe for a mob boss whether someone died or not was an important barometer of failure.

But for me, a vigneron, whether the grapes lived or died was a basic job requirement.

“I’m freaking out,” I admitted. “And I can’t understand how you’re so calm. ”

His gaze was warm and soft, and it sucked me in, soothing me. “This is only money, which I happen to have a lot of. And I already planned to make improvements. So now we combine the improvements with replanting. Let Carlo advise you and then we’ll do whatever you want.”

The words washed over me like a cool rain. My panic receded and I took a deep breath. Feeling like I should do something, I straightened his perfectly straight tie and admired the fine gray patterned silk. You just want an excuse to touch him. “You’ll let me decide?”

“Sì, certo. I told you this many times. I want to work with you, not strip this all away from you.”

He was saying all the right things and my heart slowed with each second that passed. “You’re good in a crisis, you know that?”

“I’ve been told this, yes. Now, aren’t you curious about the reason I came out here to find you in the first place?”

Oh, right. I was so distracted that I hadn’t even noticed. “Was it to tell me how amazing and awesome I am in bed?”

“No, although this is certainly true.” He cupped my jaw in his hands and rubbed his thumb along my cheekbones. “I have to run an errand today. I don’t know if I will be back by six.”

“Didn’t you get my text? I’m hanging out with a friend tonight.”

“And you will bring this friend to the cottage. Use the jacuzzi, if you like. Have my brother send out dinner. But I want you waiting there when I get back. Are we clear?”

Like a habit, I opened my mouth to argue—except I couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t want to refuse. There was something reassuring about this man, and this had been a really shitty day already. Seeing him tonight would make me feel better. “Okay, Vito.”

My compliance earned a tiny hint of a smile from him. “Va bene, angioletto mio.” He kissed my forehead, then pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

He left me there, lips tingling as I watched him walk away, his long overcoat shifting with each step.

I could see the little white puffs of his breath, the strong slope of his neck leading into broad, capable shoulders.

A giddy, fizzing sensation erupted in my chest, like I was filled with sparkling wine. No, stop. I’m just happy, that’s all.

I was not falling in love with Vito D’Agostino.

Quickly, I started off for the Cabernet Franc vines. It was then that I realized I hadn’t even asked about his errand today.