Love Redesigned (12 page)

“I wish she was here, too. I still miss her. I used to love baking with her. She always made it so much fun.”

She walked to the refrigerator and brought out two covered plates. Setting them on the counter, she swept the dome lids off. She picked the plates up and turned to the twins.

“I made these special cakes just for you girls, for tonight. What do you think? Do you like them?” Princess cakes adorned the trays, each decorated in the girls’ favorite colors.

The twins clapped their hands and squealed. Genevieve set the cakes down, and knelt on the floor, gathering them close. They showered her with kisses, and thanked her in their halting English.

She hugged them close and smiled. But it was the saddest smile he had ever seen on anyone. His heartbreak echoed on her face. If anyone deserved to be a
mamán
, it was her. He backed away from the door and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

“You love her, don’t you?”

He opened his eyes. Constance stood next to him. “It does not matter. She does not return my feelings.”

He started to walk away, but she tugged on his sleeve.

“Wait a minute,” Constance said, her voice pitched low. “Just give her time. A lot has happened the last few days, and I think she’s reeling.”

He kissed her cheek. “She has already told me she will not stay.”

“Just give her some time,” she repeated.

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you, Constance? She told me to find someone else, have a family. Does that sound to you as if she has feelings for me?” He turned away to leave.

“She’s being selfless. We had a long talk this morning, and she finally told me what really happened when she had the car accident. I tell you, it just about broke my heart. She knows you want children. But if she’s the one you want, then go after her. You can always adopt.”

Her words stopped him. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. But no . . . “It’s too late. She does not want me.”

He headed toward the exit.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot.”

He glanced at her.

“Francois said he needs to talk to you. Would you please stop by his study before you leave?”

“Can’t it wait? I really need to leave.”

“I’m sorry, but I think it’s important he see you today.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Thanks for letting me know.” He backtracked to the stairs leading to his cousin’s study.

He knocked once and opened the door, entering the dark paneled room. “Constance said you needed to see me, but can it wait? I was on my way out.”

“No, not really.” Francois gestured him toward a wing chair by the fireplace. He blew out a breath and sat down next to him. “I need to talk to you about something. Remember a few days ago when I introduced you to Sophie Bélanger?”

Roman nodded, remembering the dark-haired young woman who was applying for a job with the winery.

“As you know, I perform background checks on all candidates.”

Roman waited, impatient to find out why he needed to know this.

“Something came up I wanted you to know about.” Francois shifted in the chair, then got up and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“What, is she a spy? An assassin?” he asked, dryly.

Francois rolled his eyes. “No, you idiot.”

“Then what did you find out that I need to know?” He tried to reign in his impatience, just wanting to go home, and not caring at the moment who she was.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it. Did you know your mother remarried a year after she left your father?”

Roman stilled. “No, I never heard anything. I was only eight when she left. And my father never talked about her. Honestly, I tried never to think of her.” That she had not been happy had been clear enough, but that she didn’t want her own son had devastated him.

“She did remarry, and she had a daughter. Sophie.”

The clock on the desk chimed the hour, and it startled Roman. He shook his head. “What?” he croaked.

“Sophie is the daughter of Mariana and Phillipe Bélanger.”

“Are you sure that’s my mother?”

“We do an extensive background check to begin with, but when I heard this, I wanted to make sure it was her. It is.” Francois sat back down. “I’m sorry.”

Roman’s head whirled with this news. He’d finally stopped wondering where his mother had gone when he reached his teens. His father never talked about her before he died. She hadn’t been the best mother, and it had been a relief that he no longer had to hear the fights between his parents. But it had still hurt that she didn’t want him.

“Where did she go?”

“The man she married owns a vineyard about forty kilometers from here. It’s been in his family for over two hundred years, and that’s how Sophie became interested in viticulture. She wants to carry on her family’s business, which is why she enrolled in the International Sommelier program.”

“Sophie. That would make her . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Your half-sister.”

His shoulders hunched, and he dropped his head in his hands. No wonder she had looked familiar to him. “She looks like my mother did. How old is she?”

“Twenty-seven. About ten years younger than you.”

“Is her mother still living?”

“You mean your mother?”

Roman jerked his shoulder.

Francois rubbed a hand across his forehead. “No. She died a few months ago. I’m sorry.”

Shocked, he said nothing. She hadn’t been very old, then.

“Are you alright?”

He looked up. “It’s been so long I don’t know what to think. How to feel. She’s been dead to me for many years.” He rolled his neck. “Is it wrong to admit that?”

“No, I don’t think so. You hadn’t seen or heard from her in, what, almost thirty years?”

Roman stood up and walked to the window behind the massive desk. Heavy clouds had rolled in, obscuring the sunlight. “Why are you telling me this now? You have the rehearsal tonight, and the wedding tomorrow.”

“I felt you should know. I had planned on hiring Sophie, but this changes everything. I won’t do it if aren’t comfortable with it.”

“Would she be good in this job?”

“I think she’d be a very good asset. She’s smart, capable, and knows everything about wine from the ground up. It’s in her blood.”

“Then you should hire her. Are you going to tell her she’s my half-sister?” He faced Francois, noted the concerned expression.

“That, my friend, is up to you. I will follow your lead.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll see you later at the rehearsal. Let me know if you need anything.” He deliberately changed the subject. “Are you ready to get married?”

Francois smiled. “More than ready.”

Roman clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a very lucky man, cousin. Call if you need anything.”

He walked out the door and left the chateau. Rain streamed from the sky, but at this point he didn’t care.

A sister.

He climbed in the car but made no move to start the engine. He leaned his head on the wheel.

What else can happen now?

Chapter 16

The wedding party gathered in the medieval chapel on the chateau grounds, ready to begin the rehearsal. Genevieve waited next to Connie Sue, watching the other two attendants walk down the aisle. The wedding planner gestured for her to begin her walk, and she stepped through the doors, waited a beat. She paced herself, looking everywhere but at the front of the cavernous chapel where the groom waited next to his best man.

Roman.

She reached the steps leading to the altar and stepped to the left into her spot. Turning to watch her cousin walk down the aisle, her gaze skittered past Roman, then shot back to see him staring at her.

She bit her lower lip, then licked the spot. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and a muscle twitched in his jaw.

Shocked, she noticed dark shadows beneath his eyes. His face rivaled that of an old world sculpture. He could have been carved from granite, and she hated putting that look on his face. But dammit, she had to live her own life, and achieve her own dreams!

She refused to let him make her feel bad. She squared her shoulders and met his cold gaze with one of her own. She was not going to back down. Not this time. She had seen her mother back down too many times from her father. She narrowed her eyes at him.

One of his eyebrows lifted slightly, but he kept watching her.

Connie Sue stepped into her line of sight and hissed at her. “Knock it off.”

Facing the priest, Genevieve whispered, “Knock what off?”

“I started walking down the aisle and it looked like the battle of Antietam was getting ready to commence the way you two were staring at each other.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t going to look at him, but the way he was glaring at me ticked me off.”

“There’s more going on than you know. I’ll tell you later,” Connie Sue whispered.

The priest cleared his throat, and Genevieve flushed, smiled an apology at him.

What’s going on?

The wedding planner hurried to the front of the room, and began directing how the ceremony would proceed the following day.

They made it through rehearsal finally, and adjourned to the formal dining hall of the chateau for the dinner. The long table gleamed with crystal and silver, and the chandelier reflected the candlelight in the delicate teardrops.

She was grateful to sit down after being on her feet all day. An elegant dinner was served, each course more amazing than the previous one. After all the rich French food she’d been eating, she wouldn’t be able to eat for a month after she got home.

Home.

Why did the thought of leaving France make her feel so wretched? It wasn’t just leaving Roman. She could make a home for herself here in France, in St. Armand. The medieval village called to her, and the few people she’d gotten to know felt familiar to her already, like long-lost friends.

The servers brought in the desserts she had made, and set them in front of each person. Individual miniature wedding cakes decorated in the wedding colors of blush and gold sat on each gold-edged plate. She’d used edible-gold leaf to stencil the initials of the bride and groom on top of each cake.

Up and down the table, the guests oohed and aahed over the cakes, and she waited breathlessly for them to begin eating.

The sound of a knife clinking against crystal silenced the diners, and she looked up to see Roman standing on the other side of Francois.

“I would like to offer this toast to Francois and Constance. A good marriage is not unlike a delicate wine. Both require blending and nurturing to achieve the very best there is to offer. Francois has transformed the land into a prosperous vineyard, and to our delight, Constance has become a valuable part of the winery beside him, filling the empty spaces not only in the company, but in his family and his life.

“Constance and Francois, you are blending your strengths and weaknesses, your flaws and perfections, blending the both of you into the perfect bouquet, which strengthens over time. To love, the very essence of life.”

“Here, here!” Glasses were raised in honor of Connie Sue and Francois, and everyone sipped the special sparkling wine served for the toast.

Sipping slowly, she savored the texture of the wine, and Roman’s heartfelt words. Did she want that? To fill someone’s life, and have them fill hers? She leaned forward to set her glass on the table, caught him glancing at her from his seat. Would he ever forgive her for hurting him? Again? From the look on his face, it wouldn’t be any time soon.

He looks so sad, so beaten down. Did I do that to him?

The dinner concluded, everyone stood up and mingled, prolonging the evening. Guests stood in small clusters, talking. She glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, and slipped out the side door. Heading to the small kitchen she’d been using, her steps echoed on the marble floor. It wasn’t as if she were running away, she had a duty to do. A final check on the wedding cake and she’d be through for the night.

“Gigi, wait.”

She turned to see Connie Sue hurrying after her, her black stiletto heels clicking on the marble.

“Look, I don’t know if I should say anything or not, considering what’s going on between you and Roman. But I felt you should know.”

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?” She frowned, gripped Connie Sue’s hand.

“Francois is in the process of hiring someone for the winery. Turns out she’s Roman’s half-sister.”

“What?” she yelped. She covered her mouth, hoping no one had heard her. She lowered her voice. “But he doesn’t have any family except for Francois.”

“I know. This turned up in the background check we ran on Sophie. His mother married someone else and they had a daughter. He never knew about the marriage or the daughter, much less that his mother lived not too far from here.”

“He must be devastated.”

“Francois said Roman was pretty much in shock when he told him earlier today.”

“Thanks for letting me know. No wonder he looked so upset tonight.”

Connie Sue returned to the dining hall, and Genevieve resumed her walk to the kitchen.

Walking into the room, she turned the overhead light on. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, and her heart jumped. Whirling around, she saw Roman sitting on her stool, leaning back against the counter.

“Why were you sitting in the dark?” She wanted to rush to him, hug him, and make sure he was okay. But after all that had happened the night before, he wouldn’t welcome it. She no longer had that right, and it made her so sad.

“I assumed you wouldn’t come in if you thought I was here.”

She had half a mind to escape, but lifted her chin. He wouldn’t drive her away, keep her from doing her job. “What do you want?”

“
Bón
. There’s the spirit I knew you had.”

She tied an apron over her black cocktail dress. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked, trying to be nonchalant.

“You’ve done everything you can to avoid me. I’m tired of it. I’ve done nothing to harm you, only wanted to do something to help you. I don’t deserve to be treated this way.”

His words held her still, frozen to the spot. Had she really been treating him that way? Tears clogged her throat. Pain sliced through her stomach, and she rubbed the scar, willing the hurt to go away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . .” She faced the sink, grabbed a towel and dabbed at her eyes.

“I did not come here to make you cry.”

She twisted the towel in her hands. “I apologize.” Setting the towel down, she faced him. “I didn’t mean to act that way. It was unintentional. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“I do not want to fight either. Too much has passed between us, now and fifteen years ago. We should not be enemies. I would like us to have a truce. We must get through the wedding, and I don’t want Constance or Francois forced to choose sides.”

“That’s the last thing I want.” She walked around the island to stand in front of him, and held her hand out. “Truce?”

He took her hand in his warm one, held it. “Truce.” He dropped her hand and started to walk out.

“Wait.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

He shrugged. “Why?”

“Why? Because I care about you. Connie Sue just told me about your . . . what Francois found out.”

He leaned his forehead against the door frame. He looked defeated, and her heart went out to him. She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him, laid her head against his back.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He heaved a sigh. “Not really.”

“Okay. If you do, I want you to know you can talk to me.”

“Thanks. I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact I have family other than Francois. I don’t know her at all, just met her briefly when she was here to interview with him.”

He turned around and she stepped back from him.

“I’m here if you want to talk.”

He sighed. “But you won’t be for much longer, will you? You’re going home soon. This is something I’ll deal with later. You don’t need to concern yourself.” He walked out of the kitchen.

She stood still, listening until his footsteps faded away. “I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. I’m tired of crying.”

She headed to her room for a good cry.