Twice in a Blue Moon (22 page)

His mouth dropped open, but nothing came out.

“Oh, come on. Did you really think no one knew? You two have been mooning around like a couple of hormone-drunk teenagers for a month now.”

He swallowed. Well, he was too deep to back out now. He spit out what he'd hoped to keep in. “If shit comes down, I don't want Indigo implicated.”

Her eyes slitted. “Oh, but I'm disposable?”

He was shaking his head as she said the words. “No, no. It'd all be on me. I'd see to it.”

She studied him. “And why should I take this risk of getting fired if she finds out?”

Here came the trickiest part of all. He glanced at his feet. “Because I think you need this job. Now, more than ever. Like I said, it's in all our best interests that the winery does well and, trust me, we need these grapes.”

When he heard her
tsk
of irritation, his brain stopped squirming. He inhaled the first deep breath he'd taken since he left his office.

“All right, Danovan. Tell me what I'm to say.”

* * *

I
NDIGO
LOOKED
UP
when Danovan walked into her office. “I'm starving. What would you say to lunch at the Farmhouse? I'm buying.”

The look of veiled caution on his taut features stopped her prattle
and
her hunger. “What's wrong?” In the few beats of silence, she felt her pulse, like hummingbird wings, brushing the inside of her wrists.

“I've got bad news.” His lips lifted to a small smile. “And good news.” He crossed to the guest chair and sat. “The grape supplier called me this morning. Total crop failure. He can't fill the order.”

The loan!
She remembered all the pretty, shiny equipment in the warehouse. And her collateral to buy it. “Shit, Danovan—”

He held up a hand. “The good news. I found another supplier. Better news. Same price. Best news. They're local. Lower shipping costs.”

She fell back in her chair and put her hand over her jolting heart. “Jeez, you scared me. Next time give me the good news first, will you?”

“Sorry to alarm you.” He slid a few pages across the desk to her. “He faxed me the contract. Go ahead and sign it, and I'll fax it back. Then I'll let you buy me lunch to celebrate.”

“Nice save.” She scanned the paper in front of her. “Just let me read it first.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I
NDIGO
SCRUBBED
A
water ring off the tasting bar with a cloth, watching a senior couple wander the gift shop. They were the only customers in the place. Friday was the tasting room's slowest day. That was probably why Sondra chose to take it off. She didn't trust anyone with
her
baby.

Indigo let go of the irritation when her stomach growled. “Hey, Natalie, what would you say to ordering pizza? We've never had a company lunch, and I'd say this is the perfect day for it.”

Down the bar, Natalie's eyes lit up. “I vote yes.”

Indigo had enjoyed the morning. It was great to interact with the customers, and she'd gotten to know Natalie and Becky better, since Sondra usually stood guard over them, as well. The elderly couple strolled out the door and down the porch steps to their car. “Better yet, let's have a picnic on the porch.”

“But if customers—”

“I'll order an extra pizza, and we'll invite them to eat with us.” She lifted her hand for a high-five. “See how easy that is?”

Natalie slapped her palm. “Think Sondra could take every Friday off? You're more fun.” As soon as the words were out, her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Indigo kept a straight face as she pulled her phone from the front pocket of her winery apron. “It's easy to be a substitute. It's the teacher who has the tough job.” She hit speed dial for Yukon Pizza.

While she waited for the restaurant to pick up, an older man with a thick torso and a shock of white hair walked into the tasting room and headed for the bar.

“Yukon. Best pizza in the lower forty-eight. Can I help you?” the voice on the other end of the phone finally said.

“Yes, I'd like to order a couple of pizzas for delivery.”

Natalie laid a coaster and a tasting glass in front of the man. “What can I pour for you, sir?”

“Thank you, miss, but I'm not here to taste. I'm looking for Indigo Blue.”

His florid face almost matched his red polo shirt. The logo read Winter Wines
. Our new grape supplier.
“Um, I'll have to call you back.” She hit End and pasted on a customer-service smile. “I'm Indigo. Can I help you?”

“You sounded different on the phone. I'm Reece Winters.”

The string tugged, and the memory popped out. “Oh, Mr. Winters.” She walked around the end of the bar. “You and I didn't speak on the phone, but I'm glad you stopped by.”

“Well, if we didn't, someone's pulling both our legs. I could have sworn she said her name was Indigo.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I figured since you're local, I'd stop by and countersign that contract in person.” He put out a broad hand for her to shake. “I'm hoping this can be the start of a long, mutually beneficial relationship.”

Shifting the phone, she took his hand, listening to the bells jangling in her mind.

He mixed up two phone calls. It happens.

“Would you like a tour of our production facility? We're pretty proud of our new equipment. Afterward, if you have time, you can have lunch with us.”

“Sounds great.”

She turned and handed her phone across the bar to Natalie. “Will you order a couple of pizzas? Just hit redial.”

Natalie smiled. “You're trusting me with the toppings?”

Distracted by the bells and the dangling threads, Indigo nodded.

Mr. Winters glanced around and up at the soaring timbers. “I can't imagine why I wasn't aware of your winery.”

Indigo led the way through the door to the barrel room. “Well, Uncle Bob, the previous owner, produced only what he grew. But we have plans to—” The door of the warehouse was pulled from her hand.

Danovan looked as surprised as she. Until he glanced behind her—then he looked much more surprised. He flinched and his eyes darted, as if looking for an escape route.

The bells morphed to the claxon of air raid sirens. “What is it, Dan—”

“DiCarlo.” A growl came from behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“Danovan is my vintner and our manager.” She looked back to Danovan. “You two know each other.” It wasn't a question. She didn't know how or why, but this was going to be bad
.
She could almost see white bolts of electricity arcing between the two men. Caught in the middle, the bolts shot down her nerves, snapping and popping. Or maybe that was her own dread. Either way, when it hit her nerve endings, it sizzled. And burned.

“I think we've both been had, miss.”

“Reece.” Danovan had the doomed look of a firing-squad victim.

“So this is where you washed up.” Mr. Winter's florid face edged toward a startling shade of eggplant. “I told you about the Boldens. You knew I couldn't sell to you, so you had some woman call me.”

She heard the
scree
of his teeth grinding.

“I'm right, aren't I?”

Danovan's voice went up an octave. “Forget me. You should be talking to Indigo. She's the owner.”

But Winters refused distraction. “I understood your youthful ambition and the mistakes that come from it.” His hands fisted. “What I won't abide is a liar. Especially one who puts my livelihood at risk.” He reached in the back pocket of his pants, pulled out a few folded sheets of paper and tore them in half. “I'm not selling grapes to you.”

When he handed the torn sheets to Indigo, Winters's eyes were sad. “I'm sorry, miss.”

He turned, stalked away.

Indigo jerked from her frozen state. “Wait, Mr. Winters. Can't we talk about this?”

Without a backward glance, he walked out the front door.

Taking her new life with him.

She kept herback to Danovan. She didn't want to see him. “What did you do?” Her words sounded as dead as the place they came from, deep in her chest.

The silence at her back had the tint of stunned.

It didn't matter what he said, anyway. It was done.

She walked away.

* * *

T
EN
MINUTES
LATER
she didn't have to look up to feel him standing in her doorway.

“Just tell me.” She had no right to the shock that echoed in the hollow places inside her where her happy dreams used to live. After all, he'd lied to her before. But in wanting him, she'd forgotten. Explanations, even reasonable ones, didn't erase a lie. The dead space in her chest expanded until it was hard to inhale around it.

It was too late to matter, but she had to see if he was lying, still. She raised her head.

His handsome face was haggard, as though he'd aged in the past few minutes. “There's not a spare cluster of grapes in the state. I even tried Oregon and Arizona. I called Texas, for God's sake.” He tore his hand through his hair. “But then I did the math. Shipping costs would have killed us. It would have cost more to get them here than we'd have made on them. Winters was the only one with extra capacity. And I knew if he knew I was involved, things would end up...well, like they have.”

“Why did you have
some woman
call? Why didn't you come and tell me?”

He stepped in. “I'm really sorry, Indigo. I was doing my best to find a solution.”

She remembered the warning bells earlier. A coating of frost covered the walls of the dead space. “Who was the woman?”

“What woman?”

“The woman who called Winters.”

“Oh.” He seemed to pull himself from distraction.

Probably trying to think up some spin on the truth to get him out of this. After all, it worked on me before.

“Um. I'd rather...I'd rather not say.”

“I have no doubt of that.” She crossed her arms as if the flimsy barrier could protect her. “Who was it?”

His eyes were on everything but her. “Sondra. She didn't want to. I—convinced her.”

She had to keep going, in spite of the dart in her heart. “I see. So given the choice of trusting the owner of the business affected by this setback, you instead went to an employee who you know I've had problems with.” She nodded. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

“Indigo—”

She held up a hand. It stopped him. “Do you have such little faith in my ability? In me?” She hated the pain that leaked out in the last word. She slammed her lips closed and waited.

His shoulders slumped. Barney's basset face had nothing on him; Danovan was the picture of heartsick.

An hour ago, that would have mattered.

“Indigo, I knew how you'd worry. You never wanted the loan, not really. You did it because I wanted it. You trusted me.” It came out in a rush. “I couldn't fail you again.”

“We could have worked through it. Together. Danovan, the only way you've ever failed is in not coming to me. Talking to me. I was right not to trust you. With my business or my—with anything else.”

He looked at his feet. “It was mine to fix.”

“
Yours
? Really?” Her nerves, crispy from the lightning strike, crumbled before a blowtorch of anger. “Who the hell do you think you are? It wasn't yours to fix. You don't own The Widow. I do.”

“I know that. I've never—”

“You should have trusted that I could handle the ‘worry.'” Her fingers clawed the air quotes. The blowtorch roared, burning her illusions like a brush fire in a drought. “I'm not another little fairy princess who's going to break under strain.”

He took a step back as if she'd slapped him. “That's dirty. Bringing up Lissette—”

“You betrayed me. The fact that you didn't trust me is all I need to know of what you think of me. As a businessperson
and
a woman.”

“Indigo—”

“Don't you get it? I didn't need a savior. I needed a partner.” The fire's fuel was almost gone. She tasted bitter cinders at the back of her throat. “Now I'm going to lose the winery. I'll leave with less than I had when I came here.” She snorted. “And I'd thought leaving Hollywood was my lowest point.” She shook her head. “It seems I keep finding new lows. When will I learn?”

The walls went up, his expression shifting from subtle shades of vulnerable to guarded. From guarded to impenetrable, as evidenced by the iron in his jaw and the glint of steel in his eye. “I've done nothing but try to help. You have the right to be upset with my choices. But I've never been disloyal. To you or any employer—or to any woman. You have to believe that.”

He hesitated to see if she'd argue.

She didn't.

He didn't so much straighten as tighten. A boxer preparing for a gut punch. “You need to fire me.” His words fell like chips off steel.

“What?”

“Do us both a favor. Fire me.” His lips twisted. “I'd quit, but that would be disloyal, wouldn't it?”

The pile of ashes in her chest collapsed, smothering an ember of hope she hadn't realized was still there—a hope that he'd come up with an answer that would carry them through this crisis. An answer they both could live with.

Proving that you're still waiting for a man to make everything okay for you, Blue.

Only sheer pride kept her shoulders straight and allowed her to hold his stare. Apparently it was the only thing that survived the fire. It was all she had left. “Fine. Gather your stuff and get off the property. I don't need you.”

* * *

W
INE
WAS
FINE
, but this was a night for his old buddy, Jack Daniel.

Danovan sat at the bar of the crowded pub, sipping the only friend he could buy. In the dim light of the faux Victorian lamps, he watched the ornate mirror behind the bar, observing the Friday-night crowd with an anthropologist's eye. When he squinted, they blurred to a kaleidoscope of color and sound. That was nice.

He'd felt this way since his debacle this afternoon, as if he'd been inside a bell tower when the clock struck twelve. His ears rang with the repercussions. The sound and vibration still resonated, echoing back and forth. Even the air around him felt different—close, safe. He kind of liked that bell. It kept out the world and whatever came next. He was grateful, for now, to exist in this space between.

You did everything you could. She'll be okay now.
That blunt pain was one of the vibrations he felt spreading through him like a deepening bruise. But his friend Jack Daniel was helping with that. Danovan signaled the bartender for another.

“Well, look who's slumming.”

At Roxy's chalkboard screech, he turned and the bell around him cracked and fell away. Lissette stood beside her friend, fine crystal next to coal.

“Go feed your flying monkeys, Roxy, I'm not in the mood.” He threw back the shot.

Her nose wrinkled. “Pond scum.” She turned away and smoothed a too-short dress over her hips. “Come on, Lissette, let's troll. There're a couple of cute guys at that table.”

“You go ahead. I'll be there in a few.”

With studied nonchalance, Roxy stalked away.

The sight of his ex brought the past crashing into the present. Her sweet perfume filled his head with flashbacks. The cool spring evening she'd taken him to the boathouse and seduced him into ridding her of virginity—not that he'd needed a huge push. The morning he'd picked himself off the floor after informing Lissette's father that she was pregnant. Lissette, fragile in white, walking down the aisle toward him. Her mascara-smeared face screaming drunken insults. The baby they'd created, bathed in moonlight from the window over the crib. More echoes.

Lissette twirled the straw in her Metropolitan and smiled. “You look like day-old road kill, dude. What happened? Did the Hollywood doll wise up and leave stiletto punctures up your back?”

He signaled the bartender for another. No use lying—this was a small town. “Let's just say I'm currently unemployed.”