An Exquisite Challenge. Дженнифер Хейворд
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perked up. This was what it was all about.
He poured them some. She pulled her glass toward her lips. “Lex—” He muttered a curse and came around the bar. “You don’t drink wine like you’re slinging beer. You savor it.”
“That’s pretentious garbage.”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled the glass away from her mouth. “It’s not pretentious garbage, it’s how to drink wine. First,” he instructed, guiding her wrist in a smooth, circular movement, “you swirl it in the glass to smell the bouquet. It’s important to get that first scent of the flavor to taste it correctly.” He pushed the glass toward her nose. “Now you inhale.” She did and lo and behold, an intense shot of berry filled her lungs.
“Cherry,” she crowed triumphantly.
“Hallelujah.” He held his hands up. “So what’s the other grape it’s blended with?”
She bit her lip. Thought hard. “Merlot?”
His teeth flashed white against his swarthy skin. “Esattamente.”
She tried to ignore how everything he said in Italian sounded sexy. How he was standing so close to her she could smell that earthy, spicy aftershave of his, bringing back heady memories of the kiss. Hell. She forced herself to focus on the issue at hand. The wine was rich like the previous Cab, smooth like the prize-winning Merlot, but there was also something else...something special she couldn’t put her finger on. “Lots of wines blend Merlots and Cabs, though, right? What makes this one so special?”
He lifted his shoulders. “Chemistry. We add the mystery ingredients, play with the yeasts and use our proprietary processes to get that perfect blend.”
So how did that play into her theme? She racked her brain. Tossed around a couple of ideas. Then a lightbulb went off in her head. Maybe that was her theme...
Chemistry. There were a million innovative ways she could make it come to life at the party. It was perfect.
“You,” she pronounced, poking her finger into his chest, “are brilliant.”
“I’m glad you’ve seen the light,” he responded dryly. “Care to share?”
“Not yet.” She wasn’t stupid. She needed to have this idea fully baked before she put it in front of Mr. Flawless here. “On Monday when I can show you the full concept.”
“Prudent of you.”
She ignored the tilt of his mouth. She could be prudent when she needed to. She did have some restraint. Another sip of the glorious wine kept the ideas flowing. She rolled it around her mouth. Yes, she could definitely get inspired about this.
“We haven’t talked about who’s going to speak to the media about all this brilliance.” She lifted a brow. “You? Antonio?”
“Me. Riccardo doesn’t want to leave Lilly alone and Antonio isn’t coming.”
She frowned. “Why? The press eat Antonio up. They love his big personality, his theatrics. He can do the big-picture historic stuff.”
His face tightened. “I’ll do it. Antonio isn’t available.”
“What do you mean isn’t available? How can he not be available for this?”
He picked up the bottle and jammed it on the shelf behind the bar. “Antonio doesn’t believe in this venture. He doesn’t believe a decent bottle of wine can be made outside of Italy and if he were to come, he’d say something damaging that would hurt us. I don’t want him here.”
“We can message him so he doesn’t go off track. Make sure he knows what he can and cannot say. I really think—”
“No.” The force behind the word stopped her in her tracks. His face was a thundercloud of black emotion. “Find another way to get press coverage, Alex.”
And that was that. He excused himself to take his call. Alex sat there finishing her wine, wondering what kind of a father showed such a lack of support for his son in the most important venture of his life. She knew from Lilly that the De Campo men were not close to their father, but she’d never had any idea the rift between Gabe and Antonio ran this deep.
Her insides twisted with a hurt so old it had been healed fifty times over. She knew all about rifts. How you said you didn’t care, but they ate away at you until you couldn’t let another person in for fear you’d drive them away, too. Her father had written her off as unrecoverable at such an early age, nothing she’d done since had compensated. None of the career ladders she’d climbed, none of the praise lauded on her by some of the world’s leading companies had helped. She could be the first woman president of the United States and he’d still have the same low opinion of her.
She pushed the glass away and took in the dark, historic cellar around her. Gabe De Campo had demons, too. Go figure.
She was pretty sure she’d just scratched the surface at that.
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