âWe have orders today,â Solena said, breaking their embrace. âIâll make sure they go out on time.â
âOrders are good,â Rena acknowledged with a nod of her head. Thankfully, Solena reminded her daily that she had a winery to run. Purple Fields was small but well-respected, and theyâd been holding their own until a slowing economy and bigger wineries started shoving them out. Smaller vintners werenât able to compete and sustain the same degree of losses as the more established ones.
âI have an appointment at the bank today.â Though Rena held out little hope, she had to try. She needed a loan to make her payroll this month and next. She was due a small amount from Davidâs life insurance policy, and that money would pay for her doctor bills and whatever was left over would go in trust for her childâs future. No one knew about the child she carried as yet, and sheâd planned to keep it that way for the time being. Sheâd not told a soul. Not even Solena.
âI will pray for good news,â Solena said.
âSo will I,â Rena said.
Rena lingered a bit after Solena left her room, putting a little makeup on a face that had seen too many tears. With dark circles beneath her eyes, no amount of makeup could hide her despair. Her grief would be evident, yet she had enough pride to want to appear in control of her emotions when she met Mr. Zelinski at the bank. Bankers were wary of desperation. Rena understood that and prepared herself with facts and figures she hoped would prove that Purple Fields was holding its own and worth the risk of a loan.
Rena walked down the stone hallway and made it to the living room when a knock sounded at her door. âWho could that be?â she muttered, taking up her purse and the file folder for her bank appointment and tucking it under her arm.
She opened the door to Tony Carlino. More than surprised, Rena blinked. âTony? What are you doing here?â
He cast her a grim smile. âYou wouldnât return my phone calls.â
âThereâs a reason for that. I donât care to talk to you.â
âMaybe not,â Tony said. âBut I have to talk to you.â
Rena took in a steady breath and calmed her nerves. Just the sight of Tony brought bad memories. Sheâd gotten over him once and had moved on with her life. She certainly didnât want anything to do with him now. âWhat could you possibly have to say to me?â
Tony glanced inside her home. Heâd been here before many years ago, but she certainly didnât want to invite him in. Sheâd never minded that sheâd come from humble beginnings and that her family home was cozy and rustic, where the Carlino mansion had four wings of stately elegance, two dozen rooms, Italian marble and ancestral artwork that went back a few generations.
âWhat I have to say canât be said on your doorstep, Rena.â
Rena glanced at her watch. âIâm on my way out. I donât have time to talk to you.â
âThen have dinner with me tonight.â
âDinner?â Rena had to focus hard not to wrinkle her face. âNo, I wonât have dinner with you.â
Tony let go an exasperated sigh. âI donât remember you being so difficult.â
She hadnât been when sheâd first met Tony at the age of sixteen. Sheâd taken one look at him and had fallen in love. Theyâd been friends first, Rena keeping her secret that sheâd fallen hard for a Carlino. Tony had a smile that lit up her heart, and when they laughed together, Rena thought sheâd died and gone to heaven. It had been painful holding in her feelings, not letting on that she loved him. It didnât help matters that Santo Carlino was trying to run her parents out of business.
âYou donât know me anymore, Tony.â Rena lifted her chin. âIf this is about easing your conscience about David, youâre wasting your time.â
Tonyâs face tightened. His dark eyes grew cold. He stared at her for a moment, then as if gathering all his patience, he took a deep breath. âI havenât got a guilty conscience, Rena. But what I have to say is about David.â
Rena glanced at her watch again. It wouldnât do to be late for her appointment, yet heâd caught her curiosity. âWhat about David?â
âHave dinner with me and Iâll tell you.â
Pressed for time and jittery about her bank appointment, Rena relented. âFine, Iâll have dinner with you.â
âIâll pick you up at eight.â
âOkay, now at the risk of being rude, I really have to leave.â
With a quick nod of agreement, Tony left and Rena breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldnât think about seeing him later and breaking bread with him. Sheâd seen the determined look on his face and knew he wouldnât take no for an answer. Frankly, she didnât have time to argue. The bank appointment was all she could focus on. âOne hurdle at a time.â She mumbled Davidâs favorite words of encouragement every time theyâd faced a challenge.
She had more important things to worry about than having dinner with Tony Carlino.
Tony drove out of the Purple Fields gates and turned right driving along the roads that would lead him to the Carlino estate. Vineyards on both sides of the highway spread across the valley rising up hills and down slopes, covering the land in a blanket of green.
Heâd only been home about three months, and he still felt disoriented, unsure of his place here in Napa. Heâd come home because his father had been ill. And now, as the oldest son, he had to assume responsibility for the business working alongside his two brothers. His father had expected as much from him.
The timing had been right for his return. Heâd made his mark on NASCAR and had enjoyed every minute of his career until a crash and injury took him off the racing circuit. Perhaps it had been an omen to quit, but it wasnât until his fatherâs passing that Tony realized heâd had no choice but to leave the racing world behind.
Somewhat.
He still had endorsement deals with various companies, and that could be an advantage to Carlino Wines. The Carlino name meant success, and people identified with that. Yet Tonyâs life had changed so drastically in such a short span of time, and now he planned on taking on a new responsibility with a wife and child.
Was he ready for that?
He questioned that reality now. His vow to David never far from his mind, Tony admitted, if only to himself, that Rena had been right about one thing. If he hadnât come home and rekindled their friendship, David would still be alive today.
Tony approached the Carlino estate and pressed the remote that opened the wide iron gates. He parked the car in front of the garage house and exited. He met up with Joe in the driveway, his brother ever the optimist wearing a smile and horn-rimmed glasses, slapped him on the back. âYou look like youâve seen a ghost.â
He had, in a way. Visions of Davidâs tragic death played in his head ever since heâd driven away from Purple Fields.
It had been a glorious afternoon in Napa, the temperatures in the low seventies with fresh sunshine warm in the airâa day that made you glad to be alive. Tony remembered thinking that, right before he witnessed Davidâs crash.
Before