Ring of Truth (14 page)

“Wow!” said Tony admiringly as he watched Kerry invert the contents of the pans onto large, round platters, fruit-side-up and surrounded by a golden, flakey crust. “That's amazing!”

“It's a great thing to do when you're really pushed,” she replied, “and fortunately, Jeremy keeps a well-stocked pantry for just such emergencies. The puff pastry is from a box, but of course, it's the
best
brand.”

Kerry and Ren had exchanged barely ten words during the frenzy that preceded the dinner, and Kerry helped with the cleanup in the kitchen while he entertained his guests following the meal.

Sara was nowhere to be seen. When Tony and José went out to the pavilion to bring in the last of the dishes, Kerry asked Jeremy what had transpired after she escaped to the cottage earlier that afternoon.

“She just stormed out of the kitchen as soon as you left. Ren followed her, trying to talk some sense into the woman. No doubt our very own drama diva's still sulking in her room,” Jeremy said wearily, sinking onto the couch. “And Kerry... I just wanted to say... I hope you didn't take anything she said about Ren seriously.”

“Hey...” she replied, trying to keep a light tone, “this whole deal with me here on the ranch is just a shakedown cruise,” wondering how many more revolting comments had been posted to her blog by now?

“Not as far as I'm concerned,” Jeremy replied. “I've decided to have my gall bladder taken out next week. I hope we can count on you to keep this boat on course.”

Kerry hesitated, and then said, “Of course. I'll stay here at least until you're back on your feet. After that, frankly... it's anybody's guess.”

Within the half hour, the kitchen was restored to its usual, pristine condition and Kerry walked Tony out to his car, relating to him the cascade of negative comments that had suddenly appeared in relation to her latest blog posts. She briefly described recent events at the ranch and outlined her suspicions that Sara Lang might be the cause.

“Well, let's find out if it is her,” Tony said.

“Can you do that?”

“We can try. I've got a few geek buddies at work who can run a check on the names and Internet addresses of the people posting that crap.” He grinned. “The NSA's got nothing on these guys. I'll text you later.”

“Tonight?” Kerry asked, startled to think that she might quickly get to the bottom of what was going on.

“Tonight, or first thing tomorrow. These are the weird nerds at LifeStyleXer who sleep under their desks.” He gave her a buss on the cheek. “And thanks for asking me to work tonight.” He waved an envelope containing the cash she'd given him. “This ranch is da bomb!”

***

That night, Kerry slept fitfully, hoping to hear a ping on her cellphone that Tony had sent her a text message identifying who was piling in with so many damaging comments that could bring her page views down and—if the negative spiral continued—cause her to miss the goals the CEO had set in order for her stock ultimately to vest.

By six-thirty, dawn was just filtering through the olive groves outside her window, and still there was no word from Tony—or any text from Ren, for that matter. She decided to dress, bundling up in a turtleneck sweater and a puffy down vest and knee-length coat to ward off the early morning chill. To pass time until Tony contacted her with news, she ventured out of the cottage and along the lavender hedges that would be blooming in June, Ren had told her.

You don't want to miss that, do you?

She glanced down at her ring, glowing eerily white in the gloom and uttered her favorite French curse. “
Merde!
”

She snapped off a lavender stock and sniffed it, detecting the faintest essence of the familiar scent, even without a bloom. She had always adored this particular aroma, especially in those bars of lovely French soap or in body lotion...

Staring at the sage green plant held between her fingers, a jumble of thoughts began to crowd her brain.

 I love this place... I love this
life!
I want to learn to be a steward of land like this... to grow and make wonderful food! To find new uses for what's currently discarded.  No grasping, manipulative, crazy—okay,
wounded
—woman is going to drive me off without a fight! Ren and I are exactly the same: this sort of life... this
path
... is the path we choose to walk.

By this time, not only was her hand vibrating wildly, but her entire body was shaking, whether due to the morning chill or something Kerry found quite frightening to contemplate: she was either as off her gourd as Sara Lang, or the Claddagh ring knew her far better than she knew herself...

Then, she actually heard her stomach rumble.

She needed a cup of good, strong tea, and she needed it
now
!

***

Kerry once again found the kitchen deserted at this early hour and immediately flipped on the electric kettle. Then she set up the coffeemaker for the others she knew would soon be streaming in, and cracked a dozen eggs into a bowl, certain that “if she scrambled them, they will come.”

Sure enough, Jeremy was the first to pad through the back door in jeans and a ranch T-shirt. He gratefully accepted a cup of proffered coffee while she sipped her tea.

“How's your midsection feeling this morning?” she asked.

“Holding its own... for the moment.” He nodded at the pan of beaten eggs she was slowly stirring. “Nice simple food for this boy until I have the operation.”

Next, Ralph Larimore, the head gardener, walked in, followed by José, each dishing up the eggs she'd concocted, laced with fresh thyme, along with toast and jam Jeremy had made from ranch strawberries grown the previous season.

Kerry had almost finished her breakfast when Ren strode through the screen door and served himself the last scoop of scrambled eggs.

Still standing, plate in hand, he asked Kerry to follow him to his office before reminding Jeremy that some cosmetic moguls were scheduled to arrive for heavy hors d'oeuvres and wine pairings from four to six, later that day.

“They're going on to have dinner up in Healdsburg and spend the night there,” he explained. “We should have them here for drinks and the hors d'oeuvres only about two or three hours.”

“No problem, boss,” said Jeremy as Kerry followed Ren out the kitchen door.

“Cosmetic moguls?” Kerry repeated. “You must be kidding! They want to visit an olive ranch instead of a winery?”

“They're doing both,” he replied, his features continuing to reflect tension from the drama with Sara the previous night. “They're part of some trade group from New York and LA—here mostly for a tour of the Sonoma vineyards—but our agent booked them for a drop-by here, too. Ka-ching, ka-ching... though not very much.”

By this time they'd entered Ren's office, his desk littered with spreadsheets.

“Looks like you've been working all night,” she commented.

“Nearly. I wanted you to know exactly where we stand financially, and to try to convince you that everything Sara claimed was false about my waiting to pounce on your incipient millions.”

“Oh, Ren...” she began.

“The trouble is,” he cut her off, “as I told you before, we
are
on shaky ground, but that is
not
why I felt like hauling you off to a cave somewhere yesterday.”

Kerry offered a bleak, apologetic smile before she replied. “I gave what happened in the kitchen yesterday some serious thought and concluded that Sara was just projecting what
she
would do if she thought she could get her hands on someone else's money. She reminds me a lot of Charlie Miller.”

“I told her last night to clear out. Today. Even if you weren't in the picture, her last little number—using rancid olive oil in a meal for the very people who are trying to expose the crooks in our business—crosses a line that can never be erased. She's toxic and there's nothing I can do to fix her. I honestly hope she'll be okay wherever she ultimately lands, but I'm counting the minutes until she leaves.”

Kerry could see that Ren was upset in a way he couldn't disguise and her heart went out to him. With everything he was dealing with, and
had
dealt with since his wife's death, Sara's betrayal had obviously struck deep. She was tempted to tell him of her suspicions regarding the vicious comments on her blog, but decided not to add to his woes until she had confirmation from Tony and his cyber-sleuths.

Instead, she said, “Well, I've got something that may cheer you up.”

“What?”

“You're not going to believe this, but I have an idea you could suggest to your guests tonight—or at some point in the future.”

“You do?
What
?” he repeated.

“What if
we
started a line of natural products like soap and body lotion made from the second press of the olives,
plus
our own lavender essence harvested from all those lavender plants around here? And if we can't produce enough, we can contract with other olive ranches and lavender farms in California, but brand it as our own special formula.”

Ren gazed across his desk with a look of amazement.

“Now, why couldn't
I
have thought of private label cosmetics? I've been staring at those rows of lavender since I was a toddler!”

Kerry laughed and settled back in the chair opposite.

“Yeah... but I'm female and I
love
all that lavender-scented stuff like body lotion, bath oil, and bubble bath!” She smiled encouragingly. “Promise we can have bubble bath as one of our products?”

Ren leered at her across the desk. “What an arresting thought. You. Naked in a bathtub filled with Montisi's lavender bath gel.”

“Not so fast, big guy! There are a few other things we need to discuss.”

Ren regarded her for a moment, a distant, guarded look invading his eyes.

“Just tell me, Kerry. Are you going to stay... or go?”

She hesitated less than an instant before she answered.

“Stay.”

“Even after what happened yesterday?”

“Just let me know when Sara Lang has left the building, will you?”

Ren's expression revealed he didn't know if she was kidding or not.

“What if I offer you a fifty-fifty deal on this cosmetic idea—if we can make it work?”

Kerry sat straighter in her chair. “Renato Montisi, if you are suggesting that I am merely withholding my favors, just to strike a good deal—”

“Absolutely
not
!” he cut in. “I'm saying I need a partner like you... in my work... and in my
life
. If that scares you, I'm sorry... but you'll just have to accept that's how I feel.”

“It does scare me a little. It's only a week on Friday since I put on—”

Ren looked puzzled at her non sequitur. “Put on what?”

She hesitated to provide an answer. Did she really know Ren well enough, yet, to talk about the ring on her finger?

“It's nearly a week since I left New York,” she amended, “and met you the very same day. I can't believe I'm living here... in such a beautiful place. I can't believe...
any
of it. But here I am,” she said smiling at him with a rush of happiness she couldn't deny to either of them. “It's all been pretty amazing, don't you think?”

Ren leaned forward and seized both her hands in his, a look of relief spreading across his face.

“What's even more amazing is that I feel as if I've known you, always.”

Kerry nodded. “It was if we
recognized
each other the moment we met. It's absolutely crazy, isn't it? No wonder it drove Sara bonkers. She sensed our connection, right from the first.”

Just at that moment, she glanced out of Ren's office window and spied his sister-in-law hauling a big suitcase across the gravel parking area. Sara yanked opened the trunk of her car and heaved in the piece of luggage, along with several other cases sitting nearby. Without a pause, she retraced her steps toward the building Kerry assumed was where she slept—and disappeared through its door.

Clearly, she was leaving the ranch.

 Kerry's mobile phone pinged. It was a text message from Tony.

Call me asap

Meanwhile, Sara had reappeared with another suitcase.

“So she
is
actually leaving,” Kerry said, pointing out the window. “What about her family? Has she some place to go?”

“Tahoe.  Her parents grudgingly said she could stay in the house up there for a while and look for work at one of the hotels. I told her if she behaved herself for six months, I
might
write her a reference about her work here.”

“You are a very decent man, Renato Montisi,” Kerry said quietly. “I actually feel very sad for her, but I'm glad you're not giving her your recommendation right away.”

Sara Lang was a totally confounding person, and before Kerry could detail for him what had been happening overnight on her blog, Ren said, “And, just for the record, I don't give a flying fig about your stock options. Who knows, if in two years, they'll even be worth the paper they're printed on. I've seen a few IPOs get bad press right before they've gone on sale and then tank, big time. I hope you get that dough, but a lot can happen in the tech world in that time.”

Kerry's stomach clenched. What if Sara's backhanded efforts not only screwed up
her
potential payday, but also diminished or sabotaged LifestyleXer's IPO, itself?

Ren seized her hand once more, forcing her thoughts back to the present.

“Look, Kerry... who can tell what's ahead for us after only knowing each other such a short time, but I want to say here and now that I will
never, ever
ask you for a penny of your money. You and I and the rest of the crew on this ranch are going to get this place onto solid ground by dint of our joint efforts, doing projects like your brilliant idea, just now, of using the second pressing to make olive oil and lavender-based cosmetics and beauty products.”