Chapter 5

The limousine arrived as promised. Jason wasn’t inside. The driver, Martin, whom Bai knew well as a friend and trusted triad soldier, opened the rear door for her.

“You look nice, Bai,” he remarked as he gestured toward the open door.

Having taken Lee’s advice, she’d worn the red silk. The short cocktail dress barely covered the knife sheathed on the inside of her thigh. The length showed off her long legs. A draped bodice left one shoulder bare and deflected attention from her broad shoulders. A long black silk scarf wrapped her neck, while red and black Ferragamo stilettos flawlessly completed her look.

She turned to Martin. “Where are you taking me?”

A large, blocky man with a talent for taking orders, Martin wore suits too large in a wasted effort to disguise the weapons he carried. When he shook his head, his bulk made him look like an agitated elephant. His shoulders rocked back and forth in denial. “I can’t say, Bai.”

She took a step toward him. He took a hesitant step back with a startled look.

“You can’t say, or you won’t say?” she asked tersely.

“Yes,” he replied while gesturing at the open door of the limousine.

She balked with a scowl on her face, her arms crossed.

He grimaced and pleaded with her. “Please. I’ve got orders. I just do what I’m told.”

She couldn’t fault him for following orders. Jason could be a demanding and unforgiving man. He could also be amazingly kind and generous. Like most people, Martin had learned how to stay in his good graces: he did exactly what Jason told him to do.

“I hate surprises,” she muttered as she slipped into the limo.

“Not nearly as much as I do,” he mumbled as he closed the door.

She settled into the back of the limo where she found another surprise, a bottle of sixty-year-old Macallan’s in a Lalique decanter. An ice bucket filled with frozen spring water the size and shape of golf balls sat next to the bottle. The scotch balls would melt more slowly than ice cubes while chilling the alcohol more efficiently.

She eyed the bottle suspiciously. The obvious ploy had all the earmarks of a trap. Jason knew she loved great scotch. He also knew she had a low tolerance for alcohol. Putting her in a comfortable car with deep leather cushions, gentle music, a fine scotch, and nothing else to do was his way of softening her up, a childishly transparent strategy.

Silently rebuking herself for giving in to temptation, she broke the seal on the decanter and made herself a drink. Knowing she was being manipulated didn’t alter her appreciation for the fine whiskey. The amber liquid tasted like a combination of vanilla and licorice with heavy peat and a touch of smoke. Smooth and cold, it gently warmed her throat, the heat slowly spreading to her chest and belly.

She sighed and realized that for the first time in weeks she felt truly relaxed. Wrapped in the cocoon of a bulletproof limousine with the most amazing beverage, she luxuriated and raised her glass.

“Xie Xie!”

Two drinks and an hour later she vaguely remembered crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and traveling east off of the freeway into wine country. Eventually, Martin drove up a long lane between rows of grapevines. The limousine came to a stop in a circular motor court paved with brick.

The door opened, and Jason looked in to offer her his hand. She found herself genuinely happy to see him and smiled broadly as she stepped out of the car. After the noise and bustle of San Francisco, the absolute peace of their surroundings felt like a soothing balm.

“Did you enjoy the ride?” he asked.

“Very much, thank you. The scotch was a real treat. Where are we?”

“We’re a little south of Healdsburg.”

The sun settled over the coastal range as the sky turned a burnished gold. The warm air smelled of soil, freshly mowed grass, and honeysuckle. She reminded herself that late spring bloomed outside of the city. Most of California prepared for summer heat; San Francisco prepared for summer fog. The inclement weather in the city had something to do with an inversion layer, a term she’d never really understood but which local weathermen never failed to blame.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jason said as he gave her a slow, appreciative glance.

Bai turned in place to show off her outfit and nearly fell as the heels on her stilettos caught on the pavers.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed, catching her as she tumbled into his arms.

She looked up at him in surprise.

He smiled. “I didn’t think it was going to be this easy.”

She righted herself and stood to face him with a frown. “I still haven’t learned how to walk in girl shoes.”

“I have a solution for that,” he said, and dropped down on one knee to slip the shoes off her feet. “We’re dining al fresco tonight. You might as well be comfortable.”

Standing, he took her arm to lead her around a modern brick and clapboard house with large picture windows. The walls of the building seemed to be mostly glass, a feature that would showcase the spectacular views. The expansive home rested on a hill surrounded by vineyards.

“It’s beautiful here,” she noted as she walked barefoot across a grassy lawn that looked out over the rolling landscape.

“I’m glad you like it. I put it in Dan’s name.”

She turned to him. “You put what in Dan’s name?”

“This estate,” he explained. “Eighty acres, forty of them in vines, ten in fruit trees, and thirty fallow. This is the main house. There’s a caretaker’s cottage the other side of the vineyard. The place is self-sufficient; the fruit pays for maintenance and taxes, with a little left over.”

“Wait a minute. You bought our daughter a vineyard? Why?”

“I thought it might be nice to have a place outside the city where the girls could come to play. There’s a pool on the far side of the house and room for horses, if she wants them. Also,” he hesitated, “if anything happens to me, I wanted her to have something, a gift from her father. I haven’t been able to give her anything before now.”

She looked out over the vineyard then turned around to look at the house. “You’re not planning on going anywhere, are you?”

He smiled. “Not intentionally.”

She considered his offhand remark as well as the gift. On one hand, the gift seemed ridiculously extravagant. On the other, she wasn’t sure she could deny him the right to gift his daughter. She had little choice, it seemed, but to accede graciously. “It really is beautiful. I’m sure the girls will love it.”

“That’s settled, then,” he stated. “Let’s have dinner.”

He took her arm to lead her around the house to a flagstone patio where a table waited under an arbor covered in grapevines. Twinkling lights sparkled discreetly around the arbor and surrounding terrace. White linen covered a small circular table set for two with a lush, low centerpiece arrangement of tropical flowers. Blue plate chargers edged in gold rested on the table.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Famished. And a little drunk.”

He grinned at her with a predatory smile. “Good. There’s hope, then.”

She returned his smile while he pulled out a high-backed upholstered chair for her. As if on cue, crickets and frogs started their nightly concert while the fading light turned the sky dusky. As she settled in, he pulled a bottle of white wine from an ice bucket and poured each of them a glass.

No sooner had he filled their glasses when a woman, perhaps in her fifties, in a white chef’s apron stepped out of the house to place chilled forks and delicate china plates with salad on the table before them.

Jason spoke to the woman. “Thank you, Coleta. The table looks lovely.”

She smiled and nodded while Jason continued. “This is Bai Jiang. I’ve told you about her. I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of each other as time goes on.” He gestured at Coleta. “Bai, this is Coleta Corazon. She and her husband, Fausto, have been managing this vineyard for some time.”

Bai greeted Coleta, who exchanged pleasantries with her before excusing herself to return to the kitchen. When she’d left, Bai turned to Jason with a questioning look.

“Coleta and Fausto are honest, hardworking people who’ve managed this property for the last fifteen years. It’s up to you whether or not you want to retain them, but I’d suggest you do. Coleta, as you’re about to find out, is an amazing cook.”

Bai nodded and tried the salad. The dressing tasted delicious with the perfect balance of anchovy and garlic. An added textural interest of homemade croutons made the salad even better. The flinty, dry fruit of the white wine, a Pine Ridge Petit Clos, proved the perfect accompaniment.

“Have you spent much time here?” she asked.

“Not as much as I’d like,” he replied. “The tranquility here is soothing.”

“You’ll always be welcome here,” she stated in a magnanimous moment.

He smiled. “I would hope so, but I won’t hold you to that. People change . . . the world changes. I’m happy just taking life one day at a time.”

She’d finished her salad when Coleta came back wheeling a cart carrying covered plates. The first plates she presented to each of them held a grill-marked filet mignon. Completing the presentation on the plate were a rosette of foie gras and a fanning of sautéed mushrooms.

Jason reached over to fill another long-stemmed glass with red wine.

“What are we drinking?” she asked.

“In celebration of your wearing a dress, I decanted a 1980 Jordan Cabernet. You’ll have to take a look at the wine cellar in the basement. I purchased the house in turnkey condition as part of an estate sale. The former owner had excellent taste in wine. He’d been collecting vintages from the Napa and Alexander valleys for the last forty years.”

Coleta uncovered plates with squares of multilayered au gratin potatoes and lightly steamed green beans. She gestured to the two of them to try their steaks. Bai bit into hers and fell in love. She took a sip of the Cabernet with its subtle tannins and tasted overripe cherries with a slightly tarry finish and butt-danced with joy.

Bai asked, “This steak is amazing. What’s your secret?”

Coleta smiled at the appreciative comment. “I put a dollop of Gorgonzola butter on the steaks right after pulling them off the grill.”

Bai smiled and wondered, distractedly, if the former owner had died of heart disease. She took another bite of steak and couldn’t bring herself to care. Some things were worth dying for. The meal ended with chocolate raspberry torte and port. She found herself pleasantly inebriated.

Jason leaned across the table to get her attention. “Would you like me to call Martin?”

“Why? Do you want to spend the night with Martin?”

“He’s not my first choice,” he confessed. “I thought you might want to take the limo home.”

Confused, she looked around. “I thought this was home.”

He smiled. “And so it is. Can I show you to your room?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to carry me. There’s no way I could possibly stand on my own. You’ve managed to get me wonderfully drunk. As a reward, you can have your way with me, farm boy,” she said, throwing her arms wide in surrender.

“‘Farm boy’?”

“That’s your new name. We’ll live like farmers, up at the crack of dawn to feed the grapes. And, there must be something that needs plowing,” she said, grinning. “Oh yes . . . that would be me.”

“I can see this will be a night to remember,” he said as he stood to scoop her into his arms. He carried her effortlessly as he walked toward the house. Coleta must have been keeping an eye on them because she opened the French doors at their approach.

“Thank you for the wonderful meal,” Jason said.

He turned so that Bai could wave good night. She couldn’t seem to form words. The world had acquired fuzzy edges.

Coleta nodded and covered her mouth to hide her giggles. “I’ll come by tomorrow to finish cleaning up, Mr. Lum.”

“Thank you. I’ll be leaving early, but Bai will probably still be here.”

Bai waved again at the sound of her name. He turned to carry her across an open living room and down a hallway to a large bedroom where he leaned down to gently lay her on cream-colored satin sheets. Fanning her arms on the slippery fabric, she reveled in the sensation as she wrapped herself in the linens like a caterpillar in a cocoon. And promptly passed out.