The Prodigal Son. Beth Andrews
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toward her. “You okay?” he asked. “You’re not having some sort of seizure or anything, are you?”
And just like that, she snapped back to life. Before he could decipher the play of emotions across her face, she smiled, though it seemed forced.
“Hey. I didn’t know you were in town.” She stepped forward as if to give him a hug, only to tuck her hands, and the bright purple folder she held, behind her back.
“Got in Saturday night,” he said, leaning against Aidan’s desk, his hip hitting a pile of papers and causing them to slide. He could’ve sworn he heard Aidan muttering under his breath. Knowing it would drive his brother crazy, Matt slowly slid his gaze over Connie. “Did you miss me?”
“It was all I could do to get through each day,” she said somberly.
Even with the weight of his pending decision on his chest, making it difficult to take a full breath, he couldn’t help but enjoy her. “What say we leave Aidan to his paperwork and go catch up over a cup of coffee?”
What better way to pretend his entire future wasn’t on the line than with the distraction of a smart, funny, attractive woman?
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Aidan said before Connie could respond. “Besides, Connie has something she wants to discuss with me, so why don’t—”
“No,” she blurted, her cheeks turning pink when he and Aidan stared at her. Taking a step back, she cleared her throat. “I mean…that…that was nothing. The thing I wanted to discuss. It can wait.”
“Are you sure?” Aidan asked.
“Believe me, I’m positive. I don’t want to interrupt your discussion so I’ll just go.”
And she turned and walked out.
“How do you do that?” Aidan asked.
Matt watched Connie’s backside as she walked away. “Do what?”
“Flirt with my vineyard manager when I know what you really want is to rip someone’s head off.”
Straightening, he shrugged, making sure the gesture seemed casual despite the tightness in his shoulders. “None of this is Connie’s fault,” he said, heading back to the sofa. “Why take it out on her?”
Never let them see you sweat.
He lay down again and closed his eyes, shutting out the searching look Aidan was giving him. His brother’s unspoken questions. Matt knew what his family thought of him. How they perceived him. To them he was just a charming playboy—albeit one with a small amount of talent. Talent he used when he wasn’t busy white-water rafting, mountain climbing or seducing women.
All he did was give them what they wanted to see.
COWARD.
Connie slowly descended the stairs, the folder with her proposal bent in her clenched hand. So she’d chickened out. Who could blame her? She could hardly be expected to pitch a business deal to Aidan while Matt flirted with her.
Not that she took him seriously. He flirted with every female regardless of her looks or age. But him being there had thrown her.
And made her lose her nerve.
Crap.
It was probably for the best. This way she could take a few more days, look over her proposal. Make sure it was as good as it needed to be to convince Aidan to take her on as a partner.
As if tweaking the damn thing for the past eight weeks wasn’t enough.
She sighed. Yeah, she really was a coward.
In the foyer, she made a right turn, her steps slowing as the sound of her daughters’ laughter reached her.
She inhaled for the count of five then exhaled heavily before stepping into the kitchen. “Something smells good,” she said, forcing a smile.
“We’re making cinnamon rolls,” Abby said, not looking up from the dough Diane was helping her roll out.
“And look, Mommy.” Payton held up a metal bowl filled with what appeared to be brown sugar. “I made the filling all by myself. And I get to sprinkle it over the dough, too.”
Abby straightened. “I get to pour the melted butter over it, don’t I, Diane?”
Diane straightened and used a towel to wipe flour from Abby’s cheek. “You certainly do.”
Payton jumped off the stool and raced over to the refrigerator. “And did you see? Diane put our thank-you cards on the fridge.”
There, in the middle of the shiny stainless steel, held on by round magnets, were the handmade cards Payton and Abby had made to thank her for the Christmas gifts she’d given them.
“I put them there because all works of art should be displayed,” Diane said, stretching the dough by hand into a large rectangle.
Connie got a heavy red mug from the cupboard next to the refrigerator and filled it with coffee. She leaned back against the counter and watched Diane instruct Payton on how to sprinkle the brown sugar mixture over the dough.
“Is everything all right?” Diane asked her. “Is it your mom?”
Connie shook her head. “Everything’s fine. Mom’s fine. I spoke with her earlier and she sounded good.”
Diane patted her cheek. “I’m glad to hear it. But you know if you ever need me for anything, to take her to a doctor’s appointment or to watch the girls for you, you just let me know.”
“I will. Thanks.” A lump formed in Connie’s throat. She took a swallow of too-hot coffee to wash it away. “I just came from Aidan’s office and saw Matt there.”
“You make it sound like you just ran into the Loch Ness monster.”
“Well, it was a…rare sighting.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, I can’t remember seeing Matt up there since Tom died.”
“All my boys dealt with their father’s death in their own way,” she said, her voice taking on that note of grief, of longing it always did when she spoke of her deceased husband. “Aidan couldn’t bear to change anything in that office to keep the memories alive, while Matt avoided both the room and the feelings those memories evoked.”
“And Brady?”
“Brady went off to war, away from us all.” She crossed over to the stove and unwrapped a stick of butter before putting it in a small saucepan. “Who’s to say any of them were wrong?”
Well, Connie could say. After all, Brady and Matt had left Aidan and Diane when they needed them most. But, she thought with no little amount of pride, she’d been there. For them and for the Diamond Dust.
Finishing her coffee, she rinsed the cup in the sink. “I’d better get back to work.”
“Why don’t I bring the girls over to you after lunch?” Diane asked.
“That’s fine. I’ll be out in Pinot Noir block if you need me. You two behave,” she told her daughters.
“We will,” Abby assured her. “Bye, Mommy.”
Connie went out the back door. There was no way she was going to take the chance of running into Aidan or Matt again. It wasn’t until she was safely back in her office with the door shut that she realized she was still carrying the folder with her proposal.
She laid it on her neat desk. God, it was almost laughable. She’d spent half her life wanting nothing more than to be a part of the Diamond Dust, to be a member of the Sheppard family, and she was too scared to go for it.
For sixteen years she’d worked hard to prove her loyalty to both the family and the winery. To prove her worth. When Tom lost his battle with pancreatic cancer, she was the one who’d helped Aidan make the transition to winery president.