Love in the Vineyard (The Tavonesi Series Book 7) (23 page)

“I want you to have this for your new place,” Coco said.

“It’s gorgeous,” Alana exclaimed. “You should forget about shooting all these men and concentrate on landscapes. You have your mother’s eye for composition.”

“You have a new place?” Anastasia asked.

“I moved in yesterday,” Natasha answered and hoped they wouldn’t ask where.

Coco rolled the photo and slipped it into a cardboard tube. “House-warming present,” she said, handing the tube to Natasha. “And you must come to the polo game next Monday afternoon. We have a grand picnic planned. I want you to come as my guest.”

“I have to work,” Natasha said, glad for the excuse.

“I happen to have some clout with your boss,” Coco said. “Zoe’s playing. She’ll give Adrian a run for it. He’s out of shape.”

If the body she’d spent the night making love with was out of shape, then she was a monkey’s uncle.

“I can’t wait to see Zoe trounce him,” Anastasia said with a saucy smile. “I love him, but we Tavonesi women have to stick together.”

Mermaid
, the voice whispered as the sisters waited for her answer. And in spite of the warning, she nodded her head.

On Thursday afternoon, Tyler and Brandon chirped all the way to the baseball stadium. Natasha’s nerves and her still-wary feelings about Monica kept her own conversation to the barest of polite comments. Monica drove like a demon, another factor that ramped up the tightness gripping Natasha’s chest.

The boys were fascinated with every aspect of the ballpark. Even Natasha got caught up in the excitement building in the crowd for the game ahead. A woman with a headset met them at the players entrance and ushered them to a spot beside the Giants’ dugout.

Alex Tavonesi approached their little group with a beaming smile.

“Want to meet a couple of my teammates?”

“Yeah!” Brandon and Tyler said in unison.

He nodded to the woman in the headset. “I’ll bring them right back.”

“And why don’t we get such honors?” Monica asked with a teasing tone.

They watched the boys get autographs and pats on the back from several players. Natasha recognized Matt from the pickup game the week before. And who could miss blond, All-American Scotty Donovan?

She was glad that Tyler had insisted that she watch a few games on the refurbished TV she’d bought. Thanks to those shared viewing sessions, Natasha was a bit more familiar with the players and the stadium. The TV was a purchase she hadn’t counted on, but there were some things a ten-year-old had to have. And she’d managed to barter viewing time in exchange for homework sessions, a win-win in her book.

The woman with the headset marshaled the boys back to Natasha and Monica and then marched their group onto the field. The public address announcer blared their names along with those of the principal of the school and the baseball coach. A man trotted out with a huge mock-up of a check. The woman with the headset arranged Tyler and Natasha on one side of the check and Brandon and Monica on the other.

Words were said, but she couldn’t say what. The boys beamed. Natasha saw Monica turn and look over her shoulder. She pointed, then smoothed her hair and smiled. Natasha turned and saw a house-sized image of Monica on a massive screen. Then the camera panned to Natasha and Tyler. Seeing their images up for all the stadium to view made Natasha feel faint. Tyler tugged at her as he glanced over his shoulder.

“It’s us! In Giants stadium.” He turned his face up to hers. “I’m gonna play on this field someday, Mom. I just know it.”

She managed a smile and a nod. In the midst of all the ceremony and excitement, a feeling of dread crawled into her belly and didn’t let go for the duration of the game. The sooner they got out of the stadium and back home, the better.

The next morning Tyler pulled up online images of them at the game on the tablet his school provided to all students. He was thrilled with the close-up shots of him beaming on the field, of him with Alex Tavonesi and shaking hands with Scotty.

Though the full-page photos made her stomach lurch, Natasha smiled in spite of the dread curdling in her stomach.

After work she dropped Tyler off for his baseball practice and headed for the grocery store. She had to stop worrying about Eddie.

But as she unloaded the groceries from her car, the knot tightened. She glanced around the housing project. Cars lined the street. There was no activity in any of the small front yards.

She stacked the bags on the kitchen counter and called Petey.

Eddie hadn’t been back to the casino, Petey reported. She worried too much, he said. But when she told him about the ballgame, about the shots of her and Tyler on the Megatron, the photos in the papers and online, his tone changed. He promised to keep her informed. It was early in the season, he said. Only serious fans were tuned in this early.

She hoped Petey was right, but she couldn’t ignore the gnawing anxiety oozing in her belly. Still, Eddie didn’t know her last name. Even if he managed to bribe the casino HR manager, he’d come up with exactly zilch. She’d changed her name from the false one she’d used on her fake ID to get the casino job. Maybe returning to using her mother’s last name hadn’t been the smartest choice, but it was all she could come up with at the time. She’d been eighteen years old and scared. Clear thinking was a skill she’d learned the hard way since then.

But the online photos made her more than uneasy. If Eddie had been at the game or had even seen the photos… God, she had to stop worrying; it was making her sick. If only she’d listened to her intuition and not allowed Tyler to go to the dratted game. Or had stayed on the edges of the field, out of the limelight.

She stacked the cartons of almond milk in the fridge. Tyler’s lactose allergy had shown no signs of receding. Luckily for her, the local grocer had several alternatives. The fridge was new with gleaming shelves and great produce compartments. She’d never lived in a place with a new refrigerator. She tucked a few cucumbers from the store into the produce drawer beside greens and root vegetables from the Casa garden. There was always more than the staff and family meals required, and the bounty kept Natasha’s grocery budget in range.

Tyler’s tablet lay on the kitchen counter. She flipped it open. She hadn’t learned how to work it yet, but she’d seen him type words into the bar at the top. She typed in Adrian’s name. The screen blinked, and then rows and rows of entries popped up. If she read the number at the top right correctly, there were hundreds of thousands of entries. The lines began to blur and before they morphed into an unintelligible mass, she touched her finger to a random line of words.

A photo of Adrian in full polo gear came up.

He was smiling and had his arm around a woman in similar gear. It wasn’t his sister Zoe. He and the woman held a trophy between them. But the woman wasn’t looking at the camera or at the trophy. She was looking at Adrian—with a look in her eyes that Natasha imagined she’d have seen in her own had she looked in a mirror the night they’d made love.

She glanced up at the print Coco had given her. She’d hung it on the wall across from the kitchen. Looking at the photo of the hills she’d seen from Adrian’s window had allowed her to reconnect with the bliss she’d discovered in his arms. But his arms weren’t her future. And remembering the joy she’d felt in them didn’t ease the sadness that crept in as she scrolled through image after image of Adrian with beautiful, smiling women. Women from his world. She clicked off the tablet. And removed the print from her wall, rolling it and replacing it carefully in the tube Coco had given her. Wishful thinking would only feed the hurt licking at the edge of her heart.

Chapter Sixteen

ADRIAN’S HEART THRUMMED AS HE OPENED the door to the Casa’s back kitchen garden. But Natasha wasn’t there. He strode over to a man separating the roots of some very small plants.

“Hello. I’m Adrian Tavonesi.” He extended his hand. The man took off his glove, wiped his hand on his jeans and then shook it.

“Enrique Bailas, sir.”

“No need to call me sir. Adrian will do.” He glanced through the back gate at the new garden going in. “Natasha back there?”

“She’s gone off with your sisters for the polo game, sir—uh, Adrian.”

Great, Coco’s meddling in action. He’d been hoping for a few moments alone with Natasha. Hell, more than a few moments. He’d imagined replaying the last night they’d spent together and extending the pleasure by a couple of days. Maybe a lifetime. It was that thought that had shocked him when he’d boarded the plane in Rome. Imagining a future with Natasha had lit a fire under his enthusiasm for his plan. Timing how and when he would tell Natasha was important, but the joy he felt made waiting harder than he’d imagined.

Even Rafe had been amazed at the depth of his feelings for Natasha. And though Adrian had come up with a few particulars about why she was
the
one
when his brother had asked—her passion for her work, her love of plants, the way she looked out for her son but didn’t hold him too close, her laugh and her giggle—none of those attributes could demonstrate the depths of Natasha, the magic of the woman. He’d even tried to explain how she’d blown Adrian away with her beauty, her spunk and her courage.

But in truth, her effect on him was a mystery to Adrian.

Rafe had laughed when Adrian had told him he’d just have to fly over and see for himself.

Adrian turned his attention back to Enrique. “You’re the new assistant gardener?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Welcome. We’ll be expanding this pollinator project and native garden soon. So whatever Ms. Raley needs, see that she gets it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Adrian.”

“Adrian,” Enrique repeated.

He turned to leave and then spun on his heel and turned back.

“And, Enrique—she’s not so good at asking for help. You might want to offer your services quite firmly. Maybe anticipate her needs.”

“I’m accustomed to meeting unspoken needs, sir. You can count on me.”

He didn’t correct the man a third time. If Enrique was more comfortable calling him sir, so be it. He did notice the duct tape holding the man’s shoes together. Likely Enrique was another of Coco’s projects. He only hoped the guy knew something about gardening. If the plan he’d cooked up on the flight back from Rome succeeded, they’d need more than a few knowledgeable workers.

He smiled to himself. And imagined how pleased Natasha was going to be when he broke the news.

He glanced at his phone. He had fifteen minutes to gear up and get on the polo field. If he was late, Zoe would have his head.

“Natasha! Over here. Coco will be along in a minute.” Anastasia patted the cushion of the vacant chair beside her.

Natasha made her way past the uniformed servers and what seemed like a horde of beautiful people. Sonoma fundraisers brought them out of the woodwork.

“I got one of these for you.” Anastasia held out a broad-brimmed straw hat with a ribbon circling the crown.

Natasha made out the words
Zoe’s team
embroidered into the ribbon. Maybe the taped dyslexia exercises Mary had given her were working. She listened to the cassettes each night before bed. But some nights the black mob of tangled letters returned and she lost her confidence. At least she could read a ribbon on a hat.