SO WHAT HAD his sisters said?
Sylvie was dying to know if he’d told them about the sale of the estate, but she resisted questioning him because it wasn’t her business. But that didn’t keep her from wondering if they thought it was as big a mistake as she did. Would they be her allies?
Well, obviously not. Because there was no way she was going to wedge herself between the siblings—even if Bianca was a friend, a good friend. No, this was a battle she was going to have to wage on her own.
And it didn’t help that Enzo kept doing one thing after another to surprise her—like at the party last night. In the beginning, he hadn’t been overly enthused by it. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he’d stay for it. But as time went by, he started to eat the food, talk to the guests, and by the end of the evening he was laughing and smiling. Who’d have imagined?
So the first part of her plan was a success; now she just had to keep going. She had to keep finding ways to remind Enzo what was important about this place. And so far she had no plan of action for today. Worst of all, the day was almost over.
They’d just finished dinner, which they’d shared since they were the only two staying at the estate. They’d agreed that in order to make it fair, one would cook and the other would clean up—though they both always seemed to share cleanup duty.
Tonight Sylvie was washing the pans, and Enzo was drying, when the front door chimed. They both turned to each other with a puzzled look on their faces.
Sylvie was the first to speak. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
“Neither am I.” Enzo set aside the pan and towel.
As he headed for the door, Sylvie dried off her hands. They didn’t get a lot of visitors at the estate now that the hotel was closed. Curiosity got the best of her and she turned for the front door.
She rushed to catch up with Enzo. But with his long legs and swift strides, she didn’t have a chance to catch him before he reached the door. So she hung back. After all, this wasn’t her home—not really. And soon she’d have to move—whether she wanted to or not.
She stood in the hallway as Enzo swung the door open. What—ahem, or should she say who—stood there was surprising, to say the least. A clown.
Like a real clown with curly, fire engine-red hair that poked out in all directions and a little black boiler hat on top. In his hand was a fistful of red ribbons leading to at least two dozen helium balloons. His face was painted white with his eyes outlined in black. And red paint had his mouth painted into a permanent smile.
When Sylvie realized her mouth was gaping she pushed her lips together, but they immediately bowed up into a smile as laughter bubbled up inside her. What in the world?
The clown wore a red jumper of sorts with a big lace collar.
Before Enzo could speak, because obviously he was having problems making sense of what he was seeing, the clown broke out into a rendition of the birthday song topped off with a little dance. Sylvie couldn’t hold back her amusement. This was just too much.
Apparently, her laughter came out louder than she’d hoped because Enzo turned to her and frowned. His grumpy scowl just made her laugh that much harder. Whoever did this had definitely caught him off guard. And then she realized who would have done this. His sisters.
Sylvie reached for her phone in her pocket and started recording. The clown danced around, sang and then bowed at the end.
Enzo didn’t say a word. The clown looked at him expectantly. Enzo stood as though he’d turned to stone. He really needed to lighten up.
Hoping to defuse the situation, Sylvie rushed forward to stand next to Enzo. She applauded the clown, who handed over the balloons to Enzo.
“Wait,” the clown said, “there’s one more thing.”
The clown rushed back to his car. Yes, it was a little clown car with a black top hat, different-colored spots all over it and a big red nose on the hood. It was quite… She couldn’t find the right word, so she settled for unusual. Sylvie wasn’t even sure how the man fit in the car.
“Did you do this?” Enzo’s voice rumbled with unhappiness.
“Oh, no.” She held up her hands as she shook her head. But the smile just wouldn’t fade from her face. This was priceless. “I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I’m innocent. I swear.”
As soon as he absorbed what she’d told him, she saw the flicker of light go on in his eyes. “My sisters. They did this.”
“That would be my guess.”
His scowl darkened. “Wait until I see them again.”
“You’ll what?” She knew it was an empty threat. He loved his sisters dearly.
She’d always longed to be a part of a bigger family. She wanted at least a sister. Someone to style hair with and paint their nails. It would have been amazing to have someone to grow up with—to share the good and the bad.
Instead, it was just her and her mother. Thank goodness they had good friends and neighbors. But it wasn’t quite the same as having brothers and sisters of her own—not to mention a father. A pang of sorrow settled in her chest.
And now, after observing Enzo and his sisters, she couldn’t help but envy their closeness, the way they teased each other and the way they pulled together. It was special. And sometimes she wondered if Enzo realized just how special a relationship he had with his sisters. Sylvie would give anything to have just a little part of that family camaraderie.
Before Enzo could answer, the clown returned with a white box. “This is for you. I hope you have a happy birthday.”
“It’s not my birthday,” Enzo said grumpily.
The clown’s forehead scrunched up. He shrugged, turned and walked away.
Enzo closed the door. “When my sisters said they had something special planned, I had no idea they’d go this far.”
Sylvie lightly elbowed him. “Lighten up. They just wanted to make you smile. Not scowl like you’re doing now.”
“I’m not scowling.” His brows were still drawn together as his lips pressed into a firm line.
“Really?” She arched a brow at him as she smiled.
“I’m not.” He attempted a smile but it didn’t work out. The disgruntled look on his face only succeeded in sending her into another fit of giggles. Immediately, his frown returned.
It took her a moment or two to gather herself. “So what’s in the box?”
He glanced down at the white box in his hand as though he’d totally forgotten. He let go of all the balloons when he went to open the box. Both of their heads lifted as the balloons sailed up and up in the two-story foyer.
“Great.” Enzo frowned at them. “Now, how am I supposed to get those down?”
“You aren’t. They’ll come down in time.” She studied him as he stared up at the balloons. “You did get helium balloons as a kid, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “No balloons. Just a nice dinner, cake and a couple of presents.”
Sylvie couldn’t believe she had something over on him. Her mother had planned themed birthday parties with balloons and hats and whatever else she could think of. Enzo might have had the big, loving family that she’d always wanted, but her mother had doted on her and given her other special memories that she hadn’t thought of in a very long time.
“What?” Enzo was studying her.
“Um, nothing. I was just remembering my birthdays from when I was a kid.”
“What were they like?”
She shrugged. “My mother would invite all of the local kids and she’d always have a theme. One year it was jungle animals. She would have games and little prizes. Nothing that cost much but just enough to make the kids feel special.”
“Those sound like some good memories.”
“They are. And thank you for helping me to remember.” But she didn’t want to dwell on the past and all that she’d lost since then. “So what’s in the box?”
She moved over next to him as he lifted the lid. They both peered inside to find a beautiful cake. The background was white frosting but the decorations were deep purple flowers, hunter green leaves and a gold vine winding its way around the cake as though it was some sort of wreath.
She couldn’t help but think of the vineyard when she looked at the cake. Sylvia wondered if his sisters had picked the decorations out intentionally. Of course, there weren’t any grapes or barrels, but the color scheme with the purple flowers and green leaves on a vine certainly resembled the vineyard. She couldn’t help but wonder if Bianca and Gia were sending their brother a message. Were they gently urging him to keep the estate?
Sylvie’s gaze moved to Enzo. His scowl had softened. In fact, there was a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He liked the cake? And the reminder of the vineyard that he was selling?
She glanced back at the cake and then realized she’d missed the rest of the decoration. In the center of the cake in purple frosting was scrolled out To The Best Brother.
“Aww…” Sylvie smiled. “That’s so sweet.”
“But so not true.” He closed the box.
“Of course it is.”
He shook his head. “If it was, I wouldn’t have let them down when they needed me most.”
He walked away before she could respond. Not that she knew what to say to that. Enzo was being harder on himself than he should be. Sure, he was selling the estate, but that didn’t make him a bad brother. She had to help him see this if she had any hope of him changing his mind about selling the estate.
* * *
Why was everyone making such a fuss?
Enzo placed the cake box on the kitchen counter. His sisters knew he didn’t like a fuss being made over his birthday. A card was fine. It was discreet but meaningful. What his sisters had done was big, loud and embarrassing. They did it because they felt guilty over forgetting his birthday.
Honestly, he couldn’t blame them. They had new, exciting lives now. He would, too. As soon as he concluded the sale of the estate. Which meant he had to talk to Sylvie about the weddings she had scheduled. They’d either have to hold off the sale or, preferably, move the events to another location. He’d even pick up the tab for moving them elsewhere.
“Do you mind if I cut the cake?” Sylvie’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
His gaze moved from her to the cake and back again. “You want to eat it?”
Her fine brows drew together. “That is the purpose of cake, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yes. Go ahead.” He was flustered and not making sense.
The truth was that he was dreading their upcoming conversation. He knew how much the wedding business meant to Sylvie. That was why he’d let her continue the business after he’d shut down the hotel. But now he had a potential buyer and he couldn’t put the conversation off any longer.
Maybe talking over cake would make what he said easier to take. Oh, who was he kidding? This wasn’t going to be easy.
He thought after he told her he was selling the estate that she would have been angry with him, but instead, she’d thrown him a birthday party. What was up with that?
Maybe it was shock. Maybe the reality wasn’t sinking in. Or maybe she’d misunderstood him and thought he said he was thinking about selling.
This evening he had to make sure she understood this sale was a certainty. And they needed to figure out dates for winding up the wedding business. He was pretty certain from what the buyer had said that he wouldn’t be inclined to open up any part of the estate for strangers to come in, either to tour the winery or to host a wedding.
And for that, Enzo felt awful. He didn’t want to hurt Sylvie. She’d been nothing but kind to him. But he would make this up to her. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he’d figure out a way.
“I thought we’d eat dessert outside. It’s such a lovely and warm evening.” Sylvie held a plate with a slice of chocolate cake out to him.
He accepted her offer and followed her to the veranda. It was one of his favorite parts of the house. The veranda was spacious and yet it wasn’t too big. It overlooked the vines and that normally made him smile. There was just something about the fresh earth, the abundant vines and the promise of a bountiful harvest that made him happy.
But right now his attention was fully focused on Sylvie. She moved toward the balustrade and then turned back to him. With the setting sun splashing brilliant oranges, pinks and purples across the sky, it was like she’d just stepped into a painting. And he was totally captivated by her beauty, both inside and out.
For a moment he imagined what it might be like if they’d carried on their fling after returning from Paris. Would they have romantic evenings like this followed by passionate, sleepless nights?
Or would their hot flame have burnt out by now? If so, where would that have left them? He definitely didn’t think they’d be standing here sharing cake.
He told himself he was right to end things when he did. But looking at Sylvie now with her hair down over her shoulders and a light breeze combing through her silky hair, he didn’t feel right. He felt like he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Her voice jarred him from his thoughts.
“No. I have to check a new valve we installed at the winery earlier today. And if I sit down now, I might not move again.”
“I understand. I have days like that.”
They turned back to the beautiful scenery. They ate their cake in silence. The cake was so delicate that it practically melted on his tongue. The mascarpone frosting was whipped to perfection. And the berry filling gave the cake a pop of flavor. He might have preferred skipping the singing clown but his sisters had outdone themselves with this cake.
All too soon the cake was gone. And the moment he’d been dreading had arrived. How did he say this to her without ruining this easiness that they’d regained? Maybe that was it. Maybe he should let her know how much all of this meant to him.
“I should get moving,” she said. “I need to go over my to-do list for the wedding this weekend.” She took his empty plate from him, stacking it with her own and then turned toward the house.
“Wait,” he said, still trying to figure out how to word this.
She turned back to him with curiosity showing in her eyes. “What do you need?”
“I need to talk to you.” He rubbed his damp palms down over his jeans. “I mean, I wanted to apologize to you about Paris.”
“We’ve been over this. I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know. I’m sorry. What I was trying to tell you in my own jumbled way is that I don’t want it to ruin our friendship.”
“It hasn’t.” She sent him a reassuring smile. “You and I, we’ll always be friends.”
He stepped toward her. His gaze met hers. “Do you really mean that?”
“I do.” There had been no hesitation in her words.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Giving me a second chance.”
She had no idea how much her words meant to him. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized just how important their relationship was to him. She meant more to him than he was willing to admit, even to himself.
His gaze dipped to her lips. There was a tiny dab of frosting on her bottom lip. He longed to lean forward and lick it off her berry-red lips. The urge swelled within him.
The truth was that he couldn’t forget about their steamy encounter in Paris. It haunted his dreams at night. Teasing and taunting him.
During the day he thought he’d finally gotten a handle on things. But standing here so close to Sylvie, he realized that he’d only been fooling himself. She had gotten into his blood and he had no idea how to undo the spell she had over him.
When he lifted his gaze upward, he noticed the twinkle of interest in her eyes. Desire stirred in his gut. In that moment he started to question his judgment. Maybe just a little kiss wouldn’t be so bad. After all, she didn’t seem to reject the idea. In fact, the look in her beautiful brown eyes was one of interest. She was interested in him?
Was it possible she didn’t regret their night together like he’d been imagining? Had he jumped to all the wrong conclusions?
He halted his rambling thoughts. He stepped back and raked his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he’d almost talked himself into kissing her.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I need to get going.”
Before she could say anything, he strode away. He didn’t trust himself to stay there in the last lingering rays of the sun with the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.
It wasn’t until he was almost to the vineyard that he realized he hadn’t done what he’d set out to do. He hadn’t talked to her about winding down the wedding business. And now he was hesitant to go near her again. She had to know that he’d almost kissed her.
His feet kept moving. Their talk could wait for another day—a day when he had his head screwed on straight.
Sylvie was off-limits to him. It was the way it had to be. He refused to hurt her again when he couldn’t commit to a relationship—not when he let down the people closest to him.