THERE WAS A PEP to his step.
This was going to be a good day.
Enzo had slept well for the first time in forever. He tried to tell himself it was exhaustion that had let him slumber. But he wasn’t that good of a liar. He knew it was the engaging party last night. And Sylvie.
She was such a remarkable woman. He had no idea she’d been planning a surprise party. And she’d made sure to invite everyone who worked at the vineyard as well as the neighbors. It had been so thoughtful—so sweet.
Some man was going to be very fortunate to marry her. She would make a loving wife. Not to mention a wonderful mother. The vision of her holding a baby in her arms filled his mind. The baby would be a little girl and she’d be the spitting image of her mother. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Then the image morphed as he envisioned Sylvie laughing at something. A man moved next to her, placing an arm around her waist and pulling her gently to his side. She melted into him. The love in her eyes—
Enzo’s thoughts screeched to a halt. The smile that had been playing on his lips turned to a distinctive frown. Not that he had any claim over Sylvie. They may have shared a night—a special night—but it was over. And he wanted her to be happy. He just didn’t want to think about her being happy with someone else.
“Enzo, are you out here?” Sylvie’s voice was carried on the morning breeze.
It was though his thoughts of her had drawn her to him. Of course, that was silly. Things like that didn’t happen.
“I’m over here.” He took a sip of his quickly cooling coffee and then he turned to her.
“Good morning.” She sent him a smile.
Was it just him or did she look a bit on the pale side? It was probably the party last night. It had been hugely successful, but it had to have been a lot for her to set up so quickly. And then it had run late into the evening.
He suddenly felt bad for not ending the party sooner. But after he’d eaten the delicious food and amazing cake Sylvie had baked, which he didn’t believe could have come out of a box, he’d had a renewed energy. He’d made his way around the room talking with everyone who took time out of their busy lives to show up.
And gifts. There were gifts for him. A smile tugged at his lips, knowing people cared that much. There were books, wine from competitors, which were gag gifts, a wall hanging and more. It had been an amazing night. And it was all thanks to Sylvie. Sweet, sweet Sylvie.
He moved toward her and pulled out a chair from the table. “Here. Have a seat.” When surprise registered in her eyes, he added, “You must be tired after all you did yesterday.”
She hesitated then she sat. “Just a little tired. Although, I have to admit I was asleep last night as soon as my head hit the pillow.”
“I bet. You really went above and beyond.” And then he realized to his horror that he’d been so caught off guard last night that he hadn’t thanked her. At least, he couldn’t remember doing it. He sat next to her. “Thank you so much for the party. No one has ever thrown me a surprise party.”
A smile lit up her face. “You’re welcome. But it wasn’t just me. Everyone chipped in and helped.”
“But it was your idea and that cake, it was so good. I wanted to have some for breakfast but I couldn’t find where you hid it.”
“I… I didn’t hide it.” The smile slipped from her face. “I’m sorry. It’s all gone.”
“I’m not surprised. It was delicious.”
“I can bake you another one.”
“Are you kidding?” When he saw the serious look on her face, he said, “I don’t want you to go to all of that trouble.”
“I would.”
“I know you would. And I really appreciate it—appreciate you.” Now, what had he gone and added that last part for? It sounded too intimate. Too much like they were involved. Or maybe he was overthinking things. “Let me get you some coffee—”
“No.” When he turned to her, certain he hadn’t heard her right, she said, “I… I’ll get some later.”
“Later? Since when don’t you drink coffee as soon as you wake up?”
She shrugged. “I think I’ve been drinking too much of it. My stomach has been bothering me. So I’m taking a break.”
“Maybe you’re getting sick.”
She shook her head. “I feel fine otherwise.”
His gaze searched hers. What was going on with her? Maybe she’d overdone it yesterday. Or maybe it was stress over the pending sale of the estate.
Buzz. Buzz.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He didn’t want to be interrupted now. He wanted to make sure nothing serious was going on with Sylvie. But when he checked his caller ID, he couldn’t not answer it.
“Happy birthday,” Bianca said.
Gia echoed her words.
“You’re both on here?”
“Yes,” Bianca said. “We feel awful about missing your birthday.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but his pride refused to let him make a big deal of this. “No big deal—”
“Yes, it is,” Gia said. “We didn’t mean to miss your big day.”
“But we have something special planned for you.” A giddiness filled Bianca’s voice.
That didn’t sound good. His sisters and surprises could be a dangerous combination. “You don’t have to do anything special. I’m fine.”
“Of course we do. Mamma would expect us to do something,” Gia said.
Silence filled the phone line. He knew that everyone was thinking of their parents and missing them. But at least his sisters had the strength to move on. He had to do that now, too—get away from all of the memories.
Still, he knew his sisters would keep going on about making a big deal out of his birthday unless he gave them a reason not to. “In fact, Sylvie—” he lifted his gaze, finding that she’d left the veranda, probably to give him some privacy “—planned a big surprise party.”
Both of his sisters gushed at once and then they started pummeling him with questions about who was there and what had happened during the party. But it was the last question that he stumbled on. Was he involved with Sylvie?
The word no rushed to the back of his mouth, but then it stuck there. Why was he hesitating? They weren’t involved. Not since Paris.
“Enzo, are you still there?” Bianca asked.
“He just doesn’t want us to know what we’ve suspected all along—he’s totally into Sylvie.” Gia’s voice was gleeful.
“Stop.” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended. He didn’t need his sisters ganging up on him right now—and certainly not about Sylvie.
“Woah!” Gia said. “Did we hit a nerve?”
“Gia,” Bianca said, “I think we better leave it alone.”
He knew he needed a distraction. And boy, did he have a huge distraction. He’d been putting off telling his sisters that he was selling the estate. He wasn’t sure how they would take the news. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was cause them more pain. Still, they had moved on with their lives. Would the sale be an issue for them? Regardless, he needed to tell them now—before things progressed with the sale.
Enzo swallowed hard. “There’s something I need to tell you both.”
“I know,” Bianca said, “you’re getting married.”
Gia gasped.
“What? No.” He shook his head. “Where do you two come up with this stuff?”
“Well,” Gia said, “you are getting older—”
“Gia,” Bianca said, “it was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh.”
He smiled and shook his head. Maybe not everything had changed. His sisters were still acting like the fun, loving sisters he remembered back before the car accident upended all their lives in ways they never could have imagined.
“Okay, you two. I’m not getting married.” The smile faded from his face. “But I do have something very serious to tell you.”
An ominous silence fell over them.
“Are…are you sick?” Gia asked.
“Not that serious,” he said. This was going all sorts of wrong. He just needed to say it and get it over with. “I’m selling the estate.”
“What?” came the collective response.
He gave them a moment to get past the initial shock. He cleared his throat. “When I was in Paris, I was made an offer I can’t turn down.”
“But you competed against us in order to win the estate,” Gia said.
“We thought you wanted it,” Bianca said. “What about the vineyard?”
“What about our family home?” Gia’s voice held disbelief.
He hadn’t been sure how they would take the news, but he didn’t think he’d have to defend himself. “Seeing as both of you have moved away—far away—I didn’t think you’d care what happened to the estate.”
“We care,” Gia said.
Another strained silence filled the line.
“But we care about you more,” Bianca said.
“Bianca?” Gia said. “You surely can’t want to part with our childhood home.”
“What I want and for that matter what you want, doesn’t matter. We picked our futures. It’s time to let our brother do what’s right for him.”
He should say something, anything, but he wasn’t sure what that should be. He loved his sisters and he didn’t want to do anything to upset them. Would they understand that he just couldn’t stay here? He couldn’t have a daily reminder of his failures in life.
“I’m sorry,” Gia said. “Bianca’s right. You were always there for us. We’ll support whatever decision you make. But are you really sure you want to do this?”
This time there was no hesitation. “I’m sure.”
“But where will you go?”
“What will you do?”
His sisters peppered him with questions and though he had work to do, he indulged them. After all, they were taking this news really well. And if answering all their questions—questions that didn’t pertain to Sylvie—made them feel better, he could do that for them.
By the time he hung up the phone, an entire hour had passed. Before he headed to the vineyard, he wanted to say something to Sylvie. He found her in the kitchen, finishing a glass of fresh-squeezed spremuta and a roll with butter and jam. He was relieved to see the color in her cheeks and that she had an appetite.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “It was my sisters.”
“No problem. I just wanted to give you some space.” She placed her plate and juice glass in the sink. “And now I have to finalize some details for a wedding this weekend.”
“Ah, sure. I need to get to work, too.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
With that, she was gone and he was left alone with his thoughts. His sisters said they were okay with the sale, but he had to wonder if that was the truth. And Sylvie was being so nice to him—too nice. What was up with that?