Page 25

Vivienne

My head spins as the door shuts with a quiet snick, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and Xavier on his way home. I don't do things like this--not in my office, during the middle of my workday. Is this real life? Because it sure doesn't feel like it.

To be sure, I lift my fingers to my swollen lips. The remnant tingle is real, and so are the wrinkles in my skirt from being bunched up around my waist.

Each time we're together is better than the last. I'm honestly concerned for my well-being. At this rate, by the time he's inside me, I might end up in a sex-induced coma.

The man takes his time. He asks me questions and the way he watches me . . . I suppress the urge to shiver. And the way he talks to me every step of the way--god it's hot. I guess you can take the people pleaser out of the girl, but you're left with a girl with a praise kink.

It requires some effort, but I push him to the back corner of my brain and refocus on the work I need to do for the rest of the afternoon.

Another visitor shows up at my door hours later when the tingles have sadly disappeared from my body.

"Always the overachiever. You're the last one here," Tenley's teases from the door to my office.

"If that's true how'd you get in here?" Clay, the intern who works the front desk, would never leave without locking up.

"Good timing. I came in as he was leaving. Clay locked up on his way out. Could you step away from the email and grab dinner with me."

"Nonna's?" I ask, already knowing her answer.

"Hell yes. I feel like I've hardly seen you the last few weeks."

The guilt that causes is fast and furious. "We do need to catch up and . . ."

"Pasta is love served family-style." We both recite the saying that Nonna, my mom's mother, had cross-stitched on the front of her favorite frilly apron. Pasta was as much a religion in our family as wine was growing up. Each house dotting the vineyard hillside had the same quote, hand-stitched by Nonna, hanging somewhere in their kitchen.

My dad's grandparents immigrated from Portugal and started Serra Brilhante Winery. It's where he was raised, and us after. Generations of Cardoza's have worked the land, including my brother, Tenley's dad.

After my parents met and fell in love, they had an army of kids. My dad's Portuguese heritage blended with my mom's close-knit Sicilian family. Now, decades later, there's no life event, good or bad, big or small, that doesn't call for both wine, pasta, and a whole lot of fussing from both grandmothers.

There was never a shortage of love, food, or noise in our house. There was also an excessive amount of work to go around. We all had roles to fulfill that helped keep the vineyard running, like it or not.

"Dinner sounds perfect." My time with Tenley is slipping away. Before I know it, she'll graduate and move out. I press my laptop closed and I slip it into the bag at my feet.

The corner of her mouth tips up in a knowing smile. "Buns & Roses? Tell me you had an actual lunch and not just a sticky bun."

"There was lunch." And an orgasm. My attention drops to the garbage where the mostly-eaten sandwich resides inside the discarded brown paper bag. Not a crumb of brownie is left.

"Xavier was raving about their red velvet brownie earlier. Said it was so good the taste was going to stick with him for days. What a crazy coincidence."

My gaze shoots back to her. I almost choke on the gulp of air I suck in. She's smiling at me in a way that makes me nervous, like she knows.

Is it bad if I wait to tell her until after a glass of wine?

"Crazy indeed." But not for the reason she thinks. "Come on, let's go and we can catch up over dinner."

The first time we ate here after Tenley moved in with me was because of the nostalgia the name evoked in us. My niece was a little homesick and pasta was the perfect cure. We've kept coming back because no one in Denver does Sicilian better, and being here feels like the best part of home.

Every detail, down to the stone walls and bright-patterned plates, remind me of family dinners my nonna used to host weekly in the vineyard's tasting room. It was the one time each week where everything stopped and we all came together. No shop talk, just lots of family. It was the one place I could be me without the expectations that came with being the eldest daughter and caretaker for my gaggle of cousins.

"How were your nursing classes last semester?" the hostess, Carmine, who knows us by name, asks Tenley as she leads us back to our table. Green vines climb the wall next to our favorite table. It's set back in a corner where we can laugh without worrying about disturbing other diners. Our own little family dinners--the two of us.

"Would you like to see the wine list?" Carmine's lips quirk up in a smirk. She knows damn well I don't need a list.

"My father would disown me if I had to peruse the list. If you wanted to adopt me into your family permanently all you had to do was ask."

Tenley snickers across the table. She knows damn well Dad would never.

"You know, I do have a brother." Carmine laughs warmly.

"And you know I don't date." Although I'm not sure that claim holds anymore.

Our favorite hostess shakes her head. "Rosalia will be over to take your drink order shortly."

As Carmine said, her sister stops by within minutes, taking our orders and happily chatting for a minute before she has to rush off to help other tables. Now it's just Tenley and I, plus the elephant in the room--if an elephant were shaped like a hot-as-hell catcher, who makes my body come alive and happens to be my niece's employer.

I swallow dryly, reaching for my wine to wash the nerves down, when my niece saves me from myself. "Vi, I know you didn't leave your desk to get lunch. So, who came through with the Buns & Roses delivery today?"

There's a hint of knowing blossoming at the corner of her lips as she waits. We never stood a chance of hiding things.

"Your boss."

She's wearing a megawatt grin now. "It took you two long enough." There are practically hearts in her eyes as she bounces in her seat.

"Hold on there, crazy lady," I caution before she gets too carried away. "Whatever you think is happening between us, I can guarantee you, it's not that. I can hear the wedding bells going off in your head."

"You literally can't." She laughs back.

"Seriously, I know you better than anyone else. We aren't dating, it's more like a . . ." Sometimes the two of us are more like best friends than aunt and niece, but I draw the line at having an explicit conversation about my sex life with her.

"Awe . . . is he your Netflix and Chill buddy?"

God she's so smug about this. "We're calling it a situationship."

She rolls her eyes so hard I'm astounded she doesn't fall out of her chair from the momentum. "How very Gen Z of you."

"Neither of us are looking for a relationship. I don't want one and he's too busy."

She hums, like the pain in my ass she is. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. But if you need to fake it for awhile I can go along with it."

"No one is faking." I rub my temples, reaching for my glass.

I should have ordered a bottle.

"Why are you so against relationships? Your parents have been married forever and still look at each other like love-struck teens. If it weren't for the life changes they'd still be popping out siblings for you."

"Gross. I don't need to think about that."

"Suit yourself, but I hope I find someone that looks at me the way your dad looks at your mom," she gushes, propping her fists under her chin. "And look what they built. They have this incredible, close-knit family, and a thriving vineyard. They've worked side by side everyday and still love each other."

"Did they though?" I ask frustration sneaking into my tone. " I raised that close-knit family while they were focusing on building that thriving empire."

Tenley blinks like I slapped her and I realize how bitter I sound.

"No," I choke out. "I didn't mean it like that."

She shakes her head, her hands twisting her napkin now. I put that look on her face. Fuck, I'm screwing this up. "I'm sorry, Tenley."

She pushes her shoulders back, masking the hurt. "It's fine. I get it."

"I don't think you do. You are the best thing that ever happened to me--my built-in best friend. You healed me when we lost your mom and I don't regret a minute of the time we spent together. We needed each other, Tenley." I search her face through the tears I'm holding back. "But as I got older and more babies were born at the vineyard no one asked me what I wanted. They saw the bond I had with you and thrust the responsibility of caretaker for everyone else on me. There were no day trips to the ocean with my friends like my parents and brothers had. No music festivals in the bay area, no prom. Harlowe was the only friend that didn't abandon me when they realized how little fun I was."

"Do your parents--does my dad know you feel like this?"

I shake my head. Her hurt evaporates and leaves behind sadness and I hate that as much.

"Is that why you picked Maryland for college? Why you stay away and only go home for HarvestFest?" Unshed tears glitter under the dim lights of the dining room.

I lick my lips, not wanting to answer but knowing she deserves it. "Yes. I love and miss them, but I need space to live my own life. If I stayed there, I'd work on the vineyard, never seeing what else I could do."

It's the part I leave unsaid that has the biggest impact: Like her dad and uncles .

This time her head shake cracks my chest open. It's like she can't quite fathom how we got here and who this person in front of her is. "My dad stays because he wants to be there, because every memory he has of my mom is tied to that vineyard. Because he loves it as much as he loved her. Because he loves his family."

One hot tear streaks down her face and I can't sit by and watch. My napkin flutters to the ground when I stand and round the table. I drop to one knee and wrap my arms around her middle.

"Tenley, I know. I watched your parents fall in love on that vineyard as they worked together. Their love story was always my favorite one to reenact with my dolls--it gave me my greatest gift. But I'm not your dad, and I'm not your mom."

How do I explain this without doing more damage?

"The vineyard breathed air into them, even before they fell in love, but it suffocated me."

She nods like she understands, but I don't think she does, not really. I let her go, returning to my seat before drawing the attention of the entire restaurant.

"You won't hurt him, will you," she asks.

Ouch, that stings. But she's holding back tears in a restaurant and it's all my fault so I'd say I deserve it.

"No, we agreed to rules. He doesn't want a relationship any more than I do. What we have is physical--convenient."

"I don't think this is a good idea. He was supposed to be . . ." She slams her lips shut, biting it nervously. Before I can ask her what she was going to say, the server brings our food and my niece quickly changes the subject, schooling her expression like the last five minutes never happened and don't have it in my heart to rehash it.

"There's a home game coming up next weekend that I want to take Holland to. It's Saturday afternoon. I thought Xavier might enjoy having her there, but I was going to see if you would go with me. I'd be more comfortable having backup, but I get it if that's weird now."

Hell would have to freeze over for me to say no to her right now, and I'm pretty sure she knows that.