A Taste of Merlot (15 page)

P
ing!

Meri studied Jasmine's text. She'd been so looking forward to Friday night, seeing Mark's friends. And of course Mark, after his five days with Posada's Catrina—aka Skull Woman.

Girls' night out?
Yes, Meri. It's like getting together with everybody, only without the guys
. The girls were inviting her to hang out alone? This was kind of huge. It upped her status to
their
friend, not just Mark's. But—

When Meri knocked, Jasmine opened the door to a cozy living room accented with screen-printed pillows and a fluffy rug. The coffee table was laid out with cute cocktail napkins, shrimp, and fruit. A savory smell wafted from the kitchen. “Hey, girlfriend!” said Jasmine with a hug, dispelling any trepidation Meri had felt coming there solo.

Meri handed Jasmine a gift bag containing an assortment of St. Pierre wines.

Jasmine laughed at its heft. “I see my reputation preceded me.”

“I tossed in a little extra as a hostess gift.”

“Aw, thanks. Come on out to the kitchen. I'm still fussing.”

“You might want to open the chardonnay first. It's great with seafood,” said Meri, trailing behind, admiring Jasmine's decor.

“I'm so glad you were okay with parting ways with the men for a change,” Jasmine said, reaching into the cupboard for glasses. “Hannah had another tough week at school. I thought she might appreciate going someplace quiet tonight where we could talk, just us girls.” She retrieved a corkscrew from a drawer.

“Not a problem. I hope it's nothing serious.”

A doorbell chimed.

“There she is now. Mind getting it while I pour?”

“Meri! So good to see you.” Hannah threw her arms around Meri's neck.

Jasmine walked over and put glasses into their hands. “Happy Friday.”

They settled in, Meri and Hannah curled up on the couch and Jasmine with her legs tucked under her on the floor.

“Jasmine said you had a long week.”

Hannah whooshed out a breath. “Actually, the last couple of weeks haven't exactly been great.” She picked up a throw pillow and hugged it to her lap. “Out of my thirty-two first-graders, eight of them are special needs. I love those kids—every last one of them. Last week it was a problem with one of the learning support assistants. She's more of a disruption than a help, eating and talking while I'm trying to teach. I had to call her out on it. This week it was the gifted parents, who are in the minority, battling the learning support moms and dads. They feel their kids' education is being compromised by the extra attention the L.S. kids supposedly get. Couple of them came in to meet with me and the principal. That's fine. But they brought their lawyers. When that happens, it sends everyone into a tailspin. The district's terrified of being sued.

“But hey.” Her smile returned. “The workweek's over. Thanks for letting me rant.”

Jasmine lifted her glass. “To girlfriends.”

The oven beeped. Jasmine popped up from the floor, grabbing the empty bottle of chardonnay as she did.

“So what's up with you?” Hannah asked when it was just the two of them. “Mark on the road again this week?”

Meri nodded. “It seems I met him right at the start of his busy time of year.”

“Where's our frequent flyer off to this time?”

Meri poured Hannah a glass of red while she pondered how much to tell. Could she risk sharing her innermost fears and longings here, in this room, with these women?

“I can tell by your face that something's eating you. C'mon, out with it. I just spilled my guts to you,” Hannah prodded playfully.

She had a gift for encouragement. Must go hand in hand with being a teacher.

“I'm not really sure where to start.” But she could use the perspective of someone who knew Mark better than Savvy and Char did. Especially someone who knew Mark and her as a couple.

“Try the beginning,” said Hannah. “But wait for Jasmine to come back.”

The glass and a half of wine she'd drunk loosened Meri's inhibitions just enough. She started out tentatively, with the news of Mark's week-long rendezvous in L.A. with her archrival. That led to her reluctance to use the St. Pierre name for business, and pretty soon she was all the way back to her self-doubt over being deserving of the Purchase Prize. Naturally, she left out the film.
Please God, don't let Rainn have told him this week, while she had him all to herself. Or—worse yet—shown it to him.

“Time out!” said Jasmine, employing the football hand signal. That prompted giggling all around, relieving the mood of empathetic concern that had descended. “I can't keep all this straight. What I'm dying to know is, what was it really like, growing up in the wine country?”

“Yeah, me too!” said Hannah.

Both new friends fairly wriggled with anticipation. Meri sighed. It was all so complicated. “I was born in Napa, but my sisters and I were sent east to separate prep schools after our mother died.”

Their faces fell. Jasmine said, “You lost your mom as a little girl? That's so sad!”

“She was an actress. To be honest, she wasn't around much. Her work kept her pretty busy.”

“Define ‘busy,' ” said Hannah.

Meri's first instinct was to defend her. “She wasn't just
any
actress, she was Lily d'Amboise,” she boasted, “the Academy Award winner. She contributed a fair share to our family income. From a practical perspective, it wouldn't have made financial sense for her to do the work she paid professional au pairs to do.”

The pity in her friends' eyes was the reason she rarely ventured down this path. She wasn't asking for sympathy, but every time she described her childhood, somehow she ended up getting it.

“What about your dad?”

“I know you've heard things. Papa means well, but he's prone to getting into scrapes. Getting arrested for something dumb, making the news.” She smirked to cover her embarrassment and took another sip of wine.

“And your sisters—what are they like?” asked Jasmine, passing around the plate of shrimp.

“Savvy's super smart. She just passed her bar exam and is going to work for a local law firm. Char loves sports and kids. Her foundation's called Chardonnay's Children. It helps immigrant families with issues like education and housing.”

“Is it really true she's with Ryder McBride, the actor?” asked Jaz excitedly. “I saw a picture of them in
NapaUnbound
!”

Meri made a conciliatory face. “Um, yeah. I guess it's no secret.”

A little squeal escaped from Jaz. “Can you imagine?” She directed her comment to Hannah. “He is so hot!”

“And you make the most gorgeous jewelry,” Hannah cooed, reaching out to touch her bracelets. “May I?”

Meri slipped off a few and Hannah tried them on, admiring how they looked on her wrist.

“I'd give anything to be creative,” she sighed, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I can't even draw a straight line. Explain to me again this Purchase Prize that you won in college.”

“Each year, my college picks a single piece of student work for its permanent collection. My junior year, I was honored to have one of my bracelets chosen. But then I overheard two of my classmates—one of whom was Rainn—saying that I only won because my father had made a big donation to the school.”

“And now this Rainn works for Harrington's, and Mark's been in L.A. with her all week?” asked Hannah. “Whew. I don't know how you're keeping it together. I'd be a crazy woman by now if DeVon was on a trip with any of the vicious bitches I knew in college. He's called you, right?”

“Every night, except last night.”

The other two nodded their approval.

Despite the pain at peeling back the layers, exposing the ugliness beneath, it was such a relief for Meri to open up. Though nothing had been resolved, she felt lighter than she had in ages. Tonight, she wasn't just an outsider looking in. Tonight, she was one of the girls.

“How long have you guys known Mark?”

“
Shoot
,” said Hannah, looking skyward. “As long as I've known DeVon. They've been friends since college.”

“Me? About three years,” said Jaz. “We used to go out as couples.. . .” She bit her tongue. Guarded eyes dashed conspiratorially to Hannah's.

Hannah pressed her lips together in a line while she considered, then spoke bluntly. “You know Mark was married before.”

Mark, married?
Meri fumbled her forkful of pineapple and it ended up in her lap. In a flash, she scooped it up, popped it into her mouth and dabbed at her skirt with a napkin. “Sure. I knew that.” A gulp of wine washed down the chunk of fruit, whole.

“Brandi was her name. The three guys were already friends when I started going out with DeVon. Then Jaz met James.... Brandi came along later. I'm pretty sure you're the first since his annulment. Wouldn't you say so, Jaz?”

Jaz shifted her position on the floor. “I know you are, Meri, because James told me Mark swore off women for a year.”

Brandi.
The name was already seared into her psyche, never to be forgotten. She sloshed some more wine into her glass and took a slug. “How long did you say it's been since his marriage ended?”

Hannah and Jaz's eyes met again as they mentally calculated. “It was last winter when they split,” said Hannah. “Guess he forgot all about that promise to stay single for a year, once he met you.”

Meri faked a smile. She couldn't let on that tonight was the first she was hearing all this. That would be too humiliating for words. And here she thought she was one of the group! She was as much a misfit as ever. These women shared a past she would never be part of. “Are you still friends with her?”

Jaz exhaled a breathy laugh. “Ah, no. Not me. No way.”

“Me neither,” added Hannah. “Brandi was a total fake. Once she found out Mark was a Harrington, she changed”—she snapped her fingers—“overnight.”

“Either that, or we were blind to her true colors before,” said Jaz.

Mark was a Harrington.
Mark was a Harrington?
It took all of Meri's self-control to keep her expression neutral. She grabbed for the platter of shrimp and loaded up her plate to have something to do with her shaking hands.
Mark Newman is really a Harrington.
She stuffed food into her mouth while her blood pumped so loudly in her head it threatened to drown out Jaz and Hannah's voices.

Jaz went on, blissfully unaware that Meri's head was about to explode. “I'd always known Mark worked for Harrington's, but since his last name is Newman, I'd never put two and two together until Brandi came along and the pudding turned to poop real quick. Besides, you know Mark. He's about the least pretentious guy there is. He's never let money matter in who he hangs with.”

“Case in point,” added Hannah, hand over her heart. “You know how much teachers make. And DeVon is doing really well now that he made partner, but it's been a long haul for him, what with footing the bill for college and law school all by himself. There're four kids in his family; his folks can't help. He's made it clear to me, if we ever make it legal, there'll be tuition bills forever.”

“Well, I'm not exactly rolling in dough,” laughed Jaz.

Though Meri feared her shaking voice might give her away, she had to milk this moment to find out as many details as she could. She might never have a better chance. “What was Brandi's story before she met Mark?”

Hannah shrugged. “Brandi didn't seem overly interested in Mark—at first. You know what his schedule's like, how serious he is about work. They only went out sporadically. But the minute he leaked his grandfather's name, she had that ring picked out practically overnight, didn't she, Jaz? Mark said the thing to do was buy a quality loose stone and have it set, but she insisted on doing it her way. Guess she thought she could get her hooks in him faster by buying a ring right out of the case instead of waiting to have one custom-made.”

“What happened next?”

Jaz raised her eyebrows. “Gotta hand it to her. Girl had it down. They eloped. Then, soon as she got her dream house full of furniture, she dumped him for someone even richer. Son of a state senator from up in Sacramento. All that, in a matter of months.”

Hannah read her mind. “Mark was devastated. DeVon said that before Brandi came along, Mark was the most trusting soul he'd ever met. But after . . . well, that's when Mark took DeVon's and his aunt's advice and started—I wouldn't call it hiding, that sounds too underhanded—being less forthcoming about his background. I'll bet he didn't have on his grandfather's watch when you first met him.”

The Patek Philippe.
Dumbly, Meri shook her head
.
If he'd worn it to their first meeting at the diner, she'd have noticed.

“He loves that watch. DeVon warned him it's a dead giveaway. But then, you knew that, being a jeweler and all.”

She'd thought it was fake. The top-of-the-line Audi. The house on Russian Hill, way too exclusive a neighborhood for a young man who'd been raised by a single mom who worked retail. His inordinate concern for the company. It was all coming together now.