Vintage (51 page)

The only thing to do in the meantime was keep going. Kelly and Guy worked in the vineyard as though they would be there forever. While Hilarian’s fellow trustees insisted on holding back funds pending a conclusion to the legal matters, Kelly and Guy were unable to continue with their plans to buy more rootstock, but those vines they already had were flourishing. Guy predicted another harvest as good as Kelly’s first.

The four harvests that had taken place since Kelly arrived at Froggy Bottom had been good enough to give rise
to four distinct vintages. The first had been called “Cuvée Kelly.” The second “Cuvée Guy.” The third “Cuvée Hilarian.” The fourth was awaiting a name.

“I think we should call it Cuvée Gina,” said Guy one afternoon.

Kelly agreed. Thoughts of Gina were with her constantly. The detectives investigating her death had come up with no new leads since they first visited the farm. Lately Kelly had the awful sense that they were about to give up altogether and Gina’s murder (for that was what it had to be) would never be solved.

“I miss her so much. I wish she could be coming to San Francisco with us,” Kelly said.

“She’ll be with us in our hearts,” said Guy. “And you’re going to bring home the
Vinifera
trophy for her.”

C
hristina’s lawyer, Todd, had not managed to keep her out of court. After all the to-ing and fro-ing, Bill’s petition had been accepted and a date was set for the two parties to meet and discuss his claims in front of a judge.

This court appearance would be the first time Christina had seen Bill in the flesh since they last went to court for the finalization of their divorce settlement. Though she would have said that she was over Bill (indeed, Marisa would have argued that she was never really into him), there was still something horribly sad about the idea of seeing him on the other side of the courtroom. If
only she could have known at that first dinner party that just five years later they would be facing each other like this.

She dressed carefully. Todd suggested that shex try to project an air of vulnerable femininity.

“Do you want me to cry?” Christina asked.

“Might not be a bad idea,” said Todd.

And so she chose a pale peach-colored suit with beige accessories. She piled her hair on top of her head in a neat and demure chignon.

Greg was with her that morning. He gave her ensemble the nod of approval.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

Christina fell into his arms.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said.

“I promised you I’d be there every step of the way,” he assured her. “Now, because I know in my heart that the judge will say you’re going to keep the villa, I’d like to take a couple of moments away from thinking about your loser ex to talk about the show. We’re going to do a segment on the
Vinifera
awards, of course. I was thinking it might be nice to have an interview with Odile Levert … ”

Christina turned away. “Do you mind if I think about this later, sweetheart? I need to compose myself for seeing Bill in court.”

As it happened, Christina didn’t have to wait until she got to the courtroom to see her ex-husband. His limousine driver somehow transpired to pull up right next to Christina’s own driver in the car park.

“Shit,” said Christina when she saw him.

Realizing the problem, Christina’s driver asked whether he should move the car to the other side of the lot.

“Yes,” said Christina tightly. “And if you could run
over my ex-husband while you’re at it, I’d be most appreciative.”

Christina was slightly irritated to see that Bill looked as good as he had the first time they met. Recently, three months in rehab had all but repaired the damage done by the hard living he’d indulged in immediately after their split. He looked slim, tanned, relaxed. As he stood on the steps of the courthouse, talking to his lawyer, he was joined by a young girl who Christina recognized as one of the minor players from that movie he made in New Mexico. Wasn’t she one of twins? She weaved her arm through Bill’s and clung on to him territorially as Christina and Todd walked past. Christina wished that Greg were with her but he had a conference call to make and would be coming later.

Bill and Christina didn’t even say hello to each other. Todd made a weak joke. Christina laughed ostentatiously, though she felt far from happy inside.

“What is the worst-case scenario?” Christina asked Todd one more time.

“The very worst case? The judge could award the villa to Bill. But that is the very worst case. It won’t happen. Be brave.”

Brave? Facing a top Hollywood actor in court was not for the fainthearted. Bill gave an Oscar-worthy performance as he talked about the “spiritual contract” he felt he had entered into when he married Christina and the ambition (hers not his) that had eventually driven them apart. By the time he had finished speaking about his life post-divorce—the depression that had sent him hurtling toward expensive addictions and the costly months in rehab to get him back out again—even Christina felt like she should write him a check. Bill’s lawyer summed things up by quoting a huge figure to represent Christina’s earnings
from
The Villa
and suggested that fifty percent of that total might be a good place to start.

“Imagine the pain suffered by my client every time he sees
Villa Living
on the magazine racks as he waits in line at a drugstore for his prescription medication. The Villa Bacchante was the house in which my client hoped to raise his children.”

“Oh, please,” Todd groaned.

On the other side of the court, Bill’s companion squeezed his arm and looked lovingly into his eyes.

Then Todd stood up.

Once again he reprised the character sketch he had put forward at the original divorce hearings. It was Christina who limped away from that battle, he reminded everybody present. While the divorce proceedings raged, she had spent months living as a hermit.
The Villa
had saved her. She had worked hard to rebuild a career destroyed by Bill’s infidelity. Far from being worth more than the figure presented at the divorce proceedings four years ago, the Villa Bacchante was worth far less than Bill had paid for it. He’d been ripped off. It was only worth something now because of Christina’s determination. Her hard work. Christina had succeeded in spite of Bill Tarrant. And since Bill had robbed her of the best of her years, the villa was probably all she would ever have.

As he sat down, Todd gave Christina a wink.

“Very best of my years?” she mouthed back at him. “Thanks a lot.”

The morning progressed like an episode of
Judge Judy,
with each side claiming the other had inflicted outrageous psychological damage during the course of their single year as Mr. and Mrs. Christina’s head was set spinning as she listened to herself being described variously as a saint or a gorgon. She was brave, intelligent and courageous. She
was grasping and mean. She wanted to block her ears. She certainly didn’t want anyone else to hear the accusations. She hoped that Greg knew every word that came out of Bill’s lawyer’s mouth was a lie.

Christina turned and looked behind her to see where Greg was sitting, but she couldn’t see him. He had promised that he would race to the court as soon as he finished that morning’s conference call. Perhaps he’d arrived just too late and the court officials had refused to let him in. Perhaps they decided that there was no space. The back four rows of the court were full of people that Christina recognized as journalists.

At around lunchtime, the judge announced that she had heard enough. It was time for her to retire and consider her verdict.

The deliberations took just over an hour but it was the longest hour of Christina’s life. She retired to a small room with Todd. It was hot. The air-conditioning wasn’t working properly. There was a fabulous California day beyond the walls and Christina longed to be enjoying it but she knew that was an impossibility. Other, more anonymous visitors to the court sat on benches in the beautiful gardens. Christina and Bill couldn’t do that. Her one consolation was that, Todd assured her, Bill’s room was worse than this one.

“Like practice for prison,” he said. “Which is where your lying ex deserves to be.”

Still Greg hadn’t showed up. Christina called his mobile. No answer. She left a message asking him to call back as soon as he could. She wanted to speak to him before she had to face the judge again. Just to hear his voice would give her the strength to get through the worst.

At last, the clerk of the court rapped on the door and informed Christina and Todd that the judge would be
ready for them in five minutes. They filed back into the courtroom. The public gallery was still full of reporters. Bill and his party took their seats. The urge to look across at him was incredible but somehow Christina managed to keep her eyes straight ahead.

The judge walked back into the room. She was an elegant woman. African-American. In her fifties, Christina guessed from her professional status and her confident and dignified bearing, though with her shining, plump face, she could have passed for a woman twenty years younger.

When Christina had first seen the judge that morning, her heart sank. She had been hoping for a man. Indeed, when she heard Todd say that Judge Tony Henderson would be sitting on their case, she’d assumed she’d got her wish. A male judge would have been easy. Christina could have batted her eyelashes or turned on the waterworks and been guaranteed a sympathetic response (it had always worked for speeding citations) but a woman … women always judged one another more harshly. As Judge Toni Henderson walked back to her place on the bench, Christina thought she saw her smile at Bill’s attorney.

Had Judge Toni, as Todd had warned in his summing up, mistaken Bill Tarrant for the fine, upstanding hero he’d played in a dozen movies?

“Please be seated,” said Judge Toni. “Except for you two, Miss Morgan and Mr. Tarrant.”

“I’m going to lose the villa,” said Christina to Todd. “I can feel it.”

She clenched her fists, feeling her nails digging into her palms. Her legs were shaking as she waited to hear the verdict.

It went in their favor.

“I find for the defendant,” said the judge. “The terms
of the original divorce settlement remain in place. It seems to me that Miss Morgan gave Mr. Tarrant two of the best years of her life between their courtship and their marriage. I don’t believe she owes him anything more.”

A good portion of the people seated in the gallery burst into applause. Still so racked with nerves, it took a moment or two before Christina realized what had been said. In fact, even as Todd high-fived his assistant, Christina wasn’t sure she’d won.

“It’s yours,” said Todd. “The villa’s still yours.”

“Oh! Oh!” Christina’s face crumpled and she started to cry.

On the other side of the courtroom, Bill’s face crumpled too. The starlet beside him also looked dismayed.

“She probably hoped she’d be leaving court with a richer man on her arm,” Todd observed as Bill pushed his way out of the courtroom with the starlet trotting behind.

Christina posed on the steps of the courthouse for a few pictures, acknowledging wearily that if she didn’t stop and pose then, they would take the pictures anyway and they wouldn’t necessarily get her best side. Or even try to.

Todd gave a short statement on her behalf.

“My client is quite exhausted after today’s proceedings but she is very happy with the judge’s decision. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Miss Morgan would like to get back to the villa. Running a vineyard is a full-time job that doesn’t stop just because you have to go to court.”

Todd gave his favorite client a squeeze.

On the other side of the car park Bill Tarrant gave his own interview, which Christina saw on the TV in the back of the limo as she was driven home.

“I didn’t know when I bought the Villa Bacchante that it would become such an important part of Christina’s life. In fact,” he laughed, “I have to say she seemed rather
underwhelmed. But listening to my ex-wife in court today, I realized just how much the villa and the vines surrounding it have come to mean to her. I underestimated her dedication to the craft of winemaking. Just as I underestimated her in so many ways during our short but wonderful marriage. There’s nothing left for me to do but wish her well.”

It was so gracious that Christina almost fell in love with him all over again.

“That man is being advised by a real professional,” Todd said in admiration.

Christina was subdued. She would never have believed that the Villa Bacchante could be worth so much money, or, more importantly, that it would have become worth so much to her. It was more than a house. It was her life. She closed her eyes and imagined the green of the vines. She would have her wedding there, she decided. Now that this nightmare was over, she and Greg could plan their future for real.

There was much celebrating to be done. Christina invited the entire legal team back to the villa. She called Greg en route. Still no answer.