Francesca Dupont drummed her fingers on the counter of the Chateau Felicity tasting room. Her sister, Felicity—the winery’s namesake—stood on the other side, lips pursed.
“I don’t like this idea. Why can’t Matthew stay another three weeks? Just until New Year’s. By then, the final round of judging will be finished.” Their long-time head chef of the five-star restaurant on their winery property had announced his retirement at the worst possible time for Francesca.
“This isn’t all about you, Francesca,” Felicity said. Francesca bristled at the insinuation that, as the youngest child, she was being selfish.
“I’ve worked towards this goal all year,” she replied. “This means everything to me. I don’t understand why he can’t wait a few more weeks.” She heard the whining in her voice and hated herself for it. She was living up to the stereotype of the spoiled youngest sibling. But she was in the finals for a National Sommelier Award, which was nearly unheard of for a person her age. The publicity from the competition was helping Chateau Felicity get back in the black. Her contribution was just as important as the rest of the family’s.
“Because,” Felicity said calmly as she reached out to cover Francesca’s hand with her own, “his first granddaughter is due any day. He wants to be there for his daughter and new granddaughter.”
Francesca huffed. “What are we going to do?” Failure is not an option.
Felicity lowered her voice as she glanced around to ensure customers were not in earshot. “I have a plan. I admit it’s not the most perfect one but it will get us through until we come up with something more permanent.”
Francesca got the sense Felicity was putting a positive spin on a disaster. That was her way, after all. Their parents died in a car accident a little over a year ago, and since then, Felicity had been the queen of the positive spin. We’re not going to lose the winery, it’s just a bit lean right now. I know that we can’t afford to hire seasonal help, but we’re a team and we’ll get by.
And they had. The winery was slowly turning to the positive as Felicity learned the ropes of managing the business. Their oldest brother, Foster, had moved home last year to help. He’d promptly fallen in love with his best friend’s little sister, Zoe, who had pitched in to help too.
This would be the second holiday without their parents. Francesca knew they were all already dreading it. Now this hot shot chef would complicate everything further.
“What’s this grand plan?” Francesca asked. Her muscles tensed in anticipation.
“I was able to secure a celebrity chef who is between jobs right now. He’s going to do a pop up restaurant for the holidays. An all-new menu and the potential for lots of publicity.”
Francesca’s heart sank. A new menu meant she’d have to start her pairings from scratch. And a celebrity chef would want to do his own thing. He wouldn’t be as amenable to menu tweaks to accommodate pairings the way Matthew had been.
“Who’s this chef? Anyone I know?” She closed her eyes and prayed it wasn’t the hotshot chef that was all over the paper for walking out on his job due to “differences of opinion.” Everyone knew that was code for a difficult chef to work with.
Felicity paused and dread pooled in Francesca’s stomach. “Who is it? Please say it isn’t Aidan Somers. Anyone is better than that arrogant jerk.”
Felicity’s eyes shot to her sister’s. “You’ve met Aidan?”
“No,” Francesca replied. “I don’t have to meet him to know what he’s like. The papers have been pretty descriptive. He sounds like a real prima donna.”
“Those reports are grossly overrated,” a deep voice said behind her.
Felicity’s eyes widened in shock and Francesca whirled around to be face-to-face with the jerk himself. Aidan Somers. He stood before her, a smirk on his gorgeous face, wearing tight fitting jeans and a green ribbed Henley that highlighted the dark brown of his eyes. They were like pools of chocolate laced with a rich cabernet.
She shook her head to clear the fanciful thoughts. She opened her mouth to say something to save this awkward moment, but realized there wasn’t anything to undo that gaffe. And she really didn’t feel inclined to try.
Regardless, she was spending the next three weeks with the most arrogant man in the world. And he holds the key to her achieving her lifelong dream.
She was so screwed.
* * *
Aidan had been dreading his banishment to Harmony, California, for the next three weeks but things were looking much more interesting than he’d expected. The gorgeous woman in front of him, with wavy honey-blond hair that went down nearly to her waist, would be a welcome distraction. Her eyes were as green as grass on a summer’s day. She also looked like she could spit fire and would gladly eviscerate him off the face of the earth if she could.
The woman who’d been behind the counter came around in a rush of words. “Aidan, I’m so glad you could make it, I’m sorry about my sister—” She paused to shoot a pointed look at the beauty before continuing. “—we weren’t expecting you quite yet.” The woman’s eyes were nearly panicked and he recognized her as Felicity, the owner of the winery and its namesake.
Puzzle pieces clicked into place. The gorgeous woman who just insulted him shared a likeness with Felicity, now that he looked more carefully. And Felicity identified her as her sister. Things were certainly getting interesting. Not that he had any right to look at the woman like he was nor think any of the inappropriate thoughts that had flashed through his mind. There seemed to be about a ten-year age difference between them, which made him the dirty old man in this scenario. He’d been there, done that, and gotten fired for it, thank you very much.
“Felicity, I’m glad to meet you. I apologize for being early. I made better time than I expected.” He had to sneak out of his Hollywood condo before the paparazzi arrived. He was done being the gossip rags’ headline story.
He knew he couldn’t exactly hide out in Harmony. Once the news got out that he was doing a celebrity chef in residence, the gossip would fly. He doubted the LA paparazzi would bother him here. The next big scandal would break and he’d be yesterday’s news. He wasn’t a big enough celebrity to warrant a lengthy trip just for a scoop.
At least that was what he was counting on.
Felicity extended her hand to shake. “It’s no trouble, honestly. We’re grateful you were available these weeks. The holidays are our busiest time for both the restaurant and catering. We hold an annual Winter Solstice Festival and have several weddings booked…”
As she talked, her voice sped up and her eyes looked more and more panicked.
“Don’t worry, Felicity. I can handle whatever you throw at me. Chefs are used to chaos. In fact, we thrive on it.” The hectic pace would be a good distraction from missing family at the holidays.
A loud grunt of annoyance sounded from his left and he turned to address the yet-to-be introduced sister.
He stuck out his hand. “We haven’t yet been introduced. I’m Aidan.”
The woman looked at his hand with suspicion before she reached out to shake it. “I’m Francesca,” she replied. “We’ll get acquainted quickly as I’m the sommelier for our restaurant.”
Aidan was stunned. Maybe it made him a jerk, but he found it hard to believe such a young woman could have reached that level of professional advancement.
“Are you an apprentice to the head sommelier,” he asked tentatively, still trying to wrap his head around this situation. He could see immediately that he said the wrong thing. Steam nearly came out of her ears as Francesca glared at him.
“No, I’m the head sommelier. I completed a degree in Culinary Arts with a specialization in wine. I’m a finalist for the National Sommelier Award.”
Aidan stepped back as if struck. This young woman was a finalist for the most prestigious award in the United States wine world? Impossible. Except it wasn’t. Felicity nodded confirmation.
“Francesca has wanted to be a sommelier for as long as we could remember. She grew up following our father around the property and knew more about the wine making process than some of her college professors.”
Aidan caught the note of pride in Felicity’s voice. Francesca continued to glare at him. Well, he’d certainly gotten off on the wrong foot with her. He sighed. What he hoped would be his saving grace was turning into a disaster.