Twice in a Blue Moon (16 page)

She snorted. “Hardly. But I'm not blind, either. You and Danovan would make the most scrumptious couple.”

“I've heard about your legendary matchmaking skill. I have no intention of becoming a client.”

“Oh, hon, I'm too late. You're already off the market, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“No, I...” Distracted by the war going on in her head, she stopped, not sure what word came next.

Jesse patted her arm. “I don't mean to sound harsh, but if you let that gorgeous man get away, you aren't as smart as I thought.” Raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow, she turned and sashayed away.

Indigo's stomach growled. “The schmoozing will have to wait. I need food now.” Unimaginable things always seemed easier with food. She shook off the uncertainty and headed for the food line.

An hour later, she sat at a table chatting with the men she hadn't at first recognized as her bicyclists, having never seen them in anything but spandex.

“So we hit the summit of that fifteen-hundred-foot climb, and we start down the other side. I mean, we are flying. We come to this hairpin turn and Allen, here...”

At a tap on her shoulder, Indigo turned.

It was the slim woman with the shelf of cleavage who had given Indigo the willies earlier. The smile the lady gave the table of men was a pole dancer's come-on. “I'm
so
sorry to interrupt,” she simpered, knowing she had the attention of every mother's son at the table. “Would you mind if I borrow Ms. Blue for a few minutes?”

They mumbled assent, eyes lasered to the titty platter, like homeless men at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

This woman didn't look like a potential client, but you never could tell. Indigo stood. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” She followed the girl's perky pistoning buns past the porch of the tasting room, to the shaded side of the building. It was quiet here, the crowd's noise only a murmur.

“Can I help you?” Feeling lured and uneasy, Indigo halted.

The girl stopped and turned. “No, but I can help you.”

“You are...?”

“Roxy. But my name doesn't matter. I've come to tell you something you should know. Something about your manager.”

Indigo tensed as her defensive shields snapped into place. She lifted her chin. “He's a brilliant manager.”

“You're new here, sweetie.” She flipped her Cher-like black hair over her shoulder. “You probably don't know that his own negligence killed his baby.”

In the quiet, Indigo heard her own breath hitch.

“And thanks to his pride and arrogance, he destroyed his marriage.”

Who is this woman?
Indigo's thoughts screamed around her skull like it was a NASCAR track. “I don't think that's any of my—”

“It speaks to the kind of
man
Danovan DiCarlo is. But that's not your problem.” She put a hand on her hip and pointed a long nail covered in purple polish at Indigo. “He tried to take down Bacchanal by giving away their trade secrets—
that's
your problem.”

Adrenaline punched into Indigo's blood, making her nerves skitter and her knees soften.
He wouldn't hurt The Widow. He wouldn't. Would he?
She needed to sit down. “Who are you?”

“I'm sure Danovan will tell you that I'm a vindictive bitch. I'm sure he'll have lots of other bad things to say about me. You may even believe him.” She leaned in, her narrowed eyes glittering shards of glass. “But is it possible that I could be a vindictive bitch and still be right about Danovan DiCarlo?” She paused to let her words sink in. “Look, you have a winery to run. And if the rumors are true, that's about all you have. So think about it. Are you willing to risk everything you have on the word of a liar?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

N
AILED
THAT
SUCKER
.
Danovan glanced around his gleaming production facility, proud of every gleaming tank, every dust-free carton of stock, even the cement floor that he could eat a celebratory dinner off of. Sure, he hadn't done all the work. His warehouse rat had about killed himself getting ready. But Danovan had done the hiring and supervising and the steam cleaning himself, so he'd earned some kudos. And after today, there would be plenty to go around. He'd overheard enough conversations leading buyers through the facility to know that The Tippling Widow had made a favorable impression. And from the line at the wine bar, the locals shared that opinion.

With one last lingering look, he walked on aching feet to the door and flipped off the lights, then through the barrel room to the tasting room.

Indigo stood at the bar, taking bottles of wine from Jesse's arms.

He walked over. “Where are the rest of the employees? I wanted to take everyone out to dinner to celebrate.”

Jesse waved to the window. “After Carl loads the barbecue in our trailer, we're hitting the road. We're beat.”

Indigo thumped the last bottle on the bar then hugged Jesse. “I really appreciate all that you and Carl did today. Not just the wonderful food, but you must have personally called the people in town to be sure they'd come.”

“I didn't use a phone, silly.” Jesse squeezed Indigo and stepped back. “I have jungle drums.”

“Well, it meant a lot to me. Here I am, a newcomer, a stranger, and...” She pulled in a deep breath. “It—it just meant a lot, that's all.” Her voice wavered.

Jesse's lips tightened. “Don't you go all soft on me, Blue. Besides, this is going to cost you more than my bill. You owe me a massage.”

Indigo gave her a watery smile. “I owe you a lot more than that.”

“Oh, hon, you don't owe me spit. I like to see the good guys win. And speaking of that...” She pointed at Danovan. “You do right by this lady now, y'hear?”

“Yes, ma'am, I will.”

Indigo turned her back to Jesse. She shot Danovan a disgusted glare, one side of her lip lifted as if he were two-day-old summer road kill.

What the hell did I do?
Air raid sirens went off in his head. He had no reason for the guilt gut-bomb, but one went off anyway.

Jesse said,“Well, I'm outta here. I'm taking that sexy hunk out there home to bed.” She winked at Indigo. “I'll see you Wednesday at yoga.” Waving fingers over her shoulder, she sauntered out.

Danovan had no idea what had changed in the past four hours, but it was clear something had. Something major. His stomach squirmed. “What's the matter?”

With snick of the door closing behind Jesse, Indigo's face fell into hard planes. “Nothing.” The compressed line of her lips hardly moved.

“What do you mean, nothing? You're looking at me like I'm a mouse turd on toast.”

In her hesitation, time bloated, looming and ugly. Something was wrong. His heart tried to hammer its way out of his chest
. Bad wrong.

Crossing her arms, she tilted her head as if regarding him for the first time. “If I were to ask them, what would the Boldens say about you? As an employee, I mean.”

The gut-bomb expanded to a mushroom cloud. He put a hand to his stomach to try to contain it. “Who talked to you?” He spit the words.

“What difference does that make?”

She took two steps before he grabbed her arm. She turned on him, rancor flaring in her eyes. He dropped his hand. “Who was it?”

“She said her name was Roxy.” She spit the words back at him.

Of course it was.
He'd known someone would tell Indigo eventually. The rumors were just too juicy not to spread. After the confrontation with Roxy in the supermarket, he should have known she'd be the one to do it. “Roxy is a vindictive bitch.”

A pained certainty spread over Indigo's features before her face fell closed of emotion. “Funny, she said you'd say that very thing.”

“Roxy hates me enough to spread half truths to destroy my career. She—”

Indigo moved so fast that when she slammed her palm on the bar, he jumped. The hollow smack echoed off the rafters. “Do you think I give a
shit
about her?” Indigo's face contorted in fury. “Were you even working for them when you applied for this position?” Her eyes scanned his. “No, you were fired, right? I can see it on your face.” She almost whispered, “I
trusted
you.”

Alarm poured into the toxic brew in his stomach, caustic, burning. Her reaction was beyond his worst imaginings.

“But that's not the whole truth. Let me explain—”

“No. I'm done listening to you. I knew better than to trust my own judgment.” She put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes, as if looking at him hurt.

He hadn't realized how much her opinion mattered until she looked at him with such contempt. His mind fibrillated, trying to find a way to make this better. “Indigo, this is not as big a deal as you think. Just let me—”

At his touch on her arm, she recoiled. Her eyes flew open, and the hurt burned off in a flashpoint of heat. “No big deal? If this winery fails, I have nothing. Nowhere to go. No one to go to. And no money to get there, even if I did.” Her voice cracked—the sound of ice breaking. “You arrogant ass—this is
all
I have!” Her hand whipped out, and she slapped him. “How
dare
you?”

His cheek stung, but it was his heart that took the worst of the blow.

She stood frozen, staring in horror. Whether the horror was directed at him or herself, he couldn't tell. Then she whirled and ran. The door slammed, and he cringed. She ran past the windows of the porch and disappeared around the side of the building.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? She hadn't said he was fired, but that didn't mean he wasn't.

“Oh, bullshit, DiCarlo.” His voice sounded loud in the cavernous room. He had just lost a lot more than a job. And the sad thing was he hadn't realized what he had until now—until it was gone.

You should have told her.
He'd known how bad it would look if she found out from someone else. But obviously he hadn't let himself consider just
how
bad it would look. The disappointment in her sad eyes was hard enough to take. But it was the defeat behind it that made him squirm inside.

He'd wrecked her.

And now he had to make it right. Somehow. “God
damm
it!” He slammed his fist into the bar. The pain hit, a searing wake-up call jerking his mind from its downward spiral.

* * *

R
EPERCUSSIONS
POUNDED
WITH
every footfall as Indigo ran to the only safe haven that remained—Bob's cabin.

You can run the winery yourself.

No, you can't.

She didn't know enough yet. Besides, even with Danovan, the two of them working twelve hours a day, they could barely keep up, and the crush was only four months away. She'd have to find another manager.

But you can't afford another one. And if you could, how can you trust yourself to hire another?

Her heavy breath caught on the wad of betrayal in her chest, and she stumbled to a stop, hands on knees, until she could breathe past it.

I'll just sell the damned thing. I never should have attempted this to begin with.

But as she jogged into the dooryard and saw the cabin windows reflecting the last of the sunset, she knew she wouldn't leave The Widow. This was her last lifeline to Harry.

No. Time to stop lying to yourself. Harry is gone.
One strangled sob slipped past the taut muscles of her throat before she locked it down.

The truth was that the winery was her last tether to the best of her life. The golden time, when she'd been safe—safe to be who she was, and it hadn't mattered that the rest of the world thought she was nothing.

Because Harry thought she was everything.

She had tried to hang on to that. To believe she was
that
Indigo Blue. But that certainty had slipped away bit by bit. Like the smell of Harry on his favorite shirt, it faded until now it was just a sad, out-of-place Hawaiian shirt hanging in her closet.

And she was back to being the sad, out-of-place misfit she'd been before Harry picked her up with his eyes.

Climbing the stairs of the porch, she ran her fingers over the worn-smooth wood banister. How many times had Harry put his hand there? Or Bob his? God, how she wished for their wisdom now. She didn't know what to do. There was no one to ask.

She made it through the door but could go no farther. She leaned her back against the closed door, and when her knees buckled, she slid down until she sat, legs splayed, on the floor.

She hadn't trusted anyone to hold her secrets. Until she came here and put her trust in Danovan.

What do I do now?

* * *

H
E
WASN
'
T
GIVING
UP
. Not again. He was going up there to talk to her. Even if he had to bellow through the door, he'd tell her the whole truth.

Though what he'd do after that, he had no idea.

First, though, he needed to change. It felt like he'd put on these clothes a week ago. Besides, it would give Indigo a few minutes to calm. He strode over and opened the door marked Private. Noticing the light on in Indigo's office, he turned it off on the way by. At the door to his room, he flipped through his ring of keys, looking for the right one.

Metal jingled and Barney walked out of Indigo's office, looked at Danovan, yawned and sat, staring up at him.

“She forgot you?”

Two hours ago, that would have been as unimaginable as her slap. Well, he'd take Barney with him to the cabin. She might not open the door for him, but she'd open it for Barney.

“You want to go see Indigo?”

Barney's tail thumped the floor once. Twice.

Those sad eyes bored into him. How could a dog's opinion make him feel even worse? “You're right. I screwed up. Big time. And I'm sorry. Maybe I can make it right if you'll help me.” He extended a hand, slow and easy, just in case. “Please?”

Barney sniffed his fingers then licked them. Danovan smiled, feeling entirely too grateful to the floppy little fleabag. He patted Barney's head and ran his fingers over his surprisingly velvety ears. “Thank you. You're a big pers—er, dog.”

Ten minutes later, he was ready. Danovan had found some twine to loop through the dog's collar, but he needn't have bothered. Once out the door, Barney took off, heading for the cabin. Danovan ran after him at the end of the leash, trying to keep up.

They turned off at the end of the vines and Barney stopped in the cabin's dooryard; they both stood panting. Warm light spilled from the window on the covered porch, but through it, he only saw an empty living room. When he'd caught his breath, he looked at Barney. “You're going to help, right?”

Barney ignored him, stepped to the end of the twine leash and tugged.

Serves you right, looking to a dog for help.

He had a bad case of the nerves. Sweating in spite of the chill air, his stomach felt like a bag of popcorn in a microwave. “Okay, we're going. Just give me a second to prepare.”

He could no longer imagine living in a place where Indigo wasn't. He remembered her on the tractor, sitting like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her quick intelligence. The way she bit the corner of her bottom lip when she was thinking. Her smile. Her sad eyes looking at him like he
was
somebody.

Somebody she admired.

That was over now, and he didn't know how to get it back. Other than to spill his guts all over the floor and hope she could see through the stupidity and into his heart. Because in spite of everything, in his heart, he meant well.

And standing in the yard like a hound—with a hound—isn't going to make that happen.

But his feet wouldn't move. This was too important. He needed some kind of strategy. His mind sorted and discarded lame ideas while his guts did the jitterbug.

Come on, DiCarlo. You're a problem solver. So get with—

Barney tugged, the twine broke and the mutt bolted.

“Dammit, come back here!” He chased his only advantage onto the porch.

Tail whipping, Barney stood at the door, looking at Danovan as if to say, “You're the one with opposable thumbs. Get the door!”

“Thanks a lot, friend.” Danovan grabbed the mutt's collar, fisted his shaking hand and knocked.

“Go away.” The voice came from just the other side of the door, but lower, as if she were sitting against it.

“You forgot your dog.”

“Oh!” Scrabbling noises, then the door opened, only a few inches. Enough for him to see that she still wore that pretty dress.

No tears. That's a good sign.
But when she peered through the crack, the dead look in her eyes frightened him. “Indigo, I...”

She bent a bit and made kissing noises at the dog. “I'm so sorry, Barn. Come on, I'll give you a treat.”

Barney would have gone inside if Danovan hadn't had a death grip on his collar. The dog whined.

Turncoat.

“Can I have my dog now?” She didn't look up.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I've said all there is to say.” She straightened and looked him in the eye for the first time. “Except that you're fired. First thing in the morning, you need to leave.”

He stood, mouth open, ready to say something that would change her mind. Words swirled in his brain, but none of them coalesced to anything coherent.

She gave a snort of irritation. “Can I have my dog now?”