The Breakup (15 page)

“Of course that’s okay. I like you, too.” It warmed her to hear it. She liked Nona a lot. She was also glad she wasn’t going to be fired.

Aja took a sip of the wine, letting it roll over her tongue, pretending she had the slightest idea of how to taste it. Nona wasn’t fooled. She spent the next half hour showing Aja how to taste wine properly; how to judge whether it was a good wine, and how to judge color and clarity. It was fascinating. Aja hadn’t thought there was any more to wine than downing it as quickly as possible. At least, that’s what she’d learned in university. She’d always thought those wine tasters were just snooty and wanted to make people feel like idiots.

Nona laughed when she said that. “No, Aja. They are deciding which wines deserve the awards. It’s a fierce competition, but
Cielo Bello
wins competitions every year.”

“Really?”

“Yes, our wines are world-renowned.” She sat back with a proud smile.

“That’s great, Nona! I had no idea.”

“
Cielo Bello
has a long history of beautiful wines attached to it.”

No wonder Marco is worried about changing anything with the winery. He would be messing with success.
“The winery has been in your family for many generations, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, but how did you know?

Aja smiled sheepishly, hoping Nona wouldn’t be offended that she’d been talking to her son. Italian women could be very territorial about their boys. “Marco told me.”

Her eyebrows rose. The only times she’d seen them together, Aja had been spitting like a cat and he had been looking down his lofty, and rather large, nose at her. It was no wonder she was surprised. Aja wasn’t about to tell her the circumstances of that conversation, either.

“What do you think of Marco?” She said it with a smile, but her eyes were sharp.

Now what the heck are you supposed to answer to a question like that?
A woman asks what you think of her son and there are two reasonable answers, each based on an opposite premise. One: she’s asking because she wants to make sure you know your place and wouldn’t dare think twice about him, to which the proper answer would be, ‘Oh, I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about him.’ Two: she
wants
you to be interested in him, and you would be wise to tell her he’s a wonderful man and very attractive. Since Aja hadn’t the slightest clue in which direction Nona’s thoughts lay, she took the middle road.

“He seems really nice, though I haven’t talked to him much,” she shrugged like it didn’t matter all that much, but was careful not to sound dismissive. She hoped she’d achieved the right affect, but Nona just looked at Aja like she was confused. She didn’t say anything. Aja decided that a change of subject was the only wise thing to do.

“Did you run the winery after your husband passed away?”

“Yes. My father taught me all the old ways of the grape and I carried on and taught my son. He does all of the work now. He’s a wonderful winemaker.”

“He seems to love the work.”

“Yes, but I’m afraid my son is frustrated.”

“Why, Nona? What do you mean?”

“Well, he wants to try the new ways, but he’s afraid to ask me if he can. He thinks I won’t understand.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“No. I’m waiting for him to talk to me. He needs to stand on his own feet sooner or later. I’m sure he will soon.”

She drained her glass, then smiled and said, “I think it’s time to make dinner. Would you like to eat with us tonight,
cara
? You should be rewarded for listening to an old woman ramble on all afternoon.”

Dinner? With Marco? Oh God.
“I’d love to, Nona, thanks. What can I do to help?”

That’s how she ended up sitting across the table from the man she’d kissed only the night before. Aja’s cheeks seemed to flare up each time his eyes lit on her.

“I’m glad you could join us for dinner tonight, Aja.” Marco’s smile looked genuine and he didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable.
That makes exactly one of us.

“Yes, it was nice of Nona to invite me.”

“Nonsense, girl. We’re happy to have someone other than the two of us for once,” Nona said.

Marco turned to his mother. “So you’re sick of me are you, Nona?”

She flapped her hand at him and he grabbed it, pressing it to his lips. “Silly boy.”

They were so sweet. It was a side of Marco she didn’t expect, that he would be such a good son.

They were sitting outside on the terrace - under a pergola covered in grape vines - looking over one of the vineyards. The sun was going down and the table lit with candles. They were eating late, as was the Italian custom, something she was still having a little trouble with. She kept sneaking snacks in the afternoon, so she wouldn’t embarrass herself with a rumbling stomach.

It was peaceful there, away from town, just the three of them quietly talking. The darkness seemed to hush their voices, swallowing them up into the warm evening.

“…long are you staying?”

Aja realized Nona had asked her a question while she’d been daydreaming. “Sorry?”

“I said how long are you going to stay in Siena?”

“Oh. I’m not sure yet. I would like to stay for a couple of months at least, but it depends on several things at home.” Aja turned the conversation away from herself immediately. “When is the wine harvest, Marco?”

Their conversation turned to wine and the upcoming events and festivals. Aja had no idea there was so much involved with making wine. She sat and listened to Marco and Nona talk about their favorite subject, fascinated with all the details. It was an amazing process with so many little things to take care of and so much that could go wrong. She was horrified when they told her about some of the diseases that could wipe out an entire rootstock.

“We were almost wiped out by fire when I was a little girl,” Nona said. “My father had to bring in vines from another vineyard to replenish our stock. We owned the vineyard; it was being managed by a cousin, so the rootstock was the same. It was a miracle, my father always said, that there was that one vineyard left. Otherwise it would have been the end of our label.”

“That would have been horrible. What would they have done?”

“I imagine they would have gotten vines from somewhere else and started over,” Marco broke in. “It wouldn’t have been the end of the label, just the end of that particular wine.”

Nona took a sip of her wine. “For my father, it was one and the same.”

Aja saw Marco struggling to hold back what he wanted to say. She wished he would just speak to his mother, but she didn’t want to interfere. She agreed with Nona that he had to find courage on his own.

Nona pushed back her chair and began to clear the table. Aja jumped up, protesting that she’d done enough, at the same time Marco did and they all laughed.

“Okay, you two can do the dishes. I’m going to take my tired bones to bed.” Nona kissed them both on the cheeks and made her way into the house.

“Nona must have had you when she was older,” Aja said.

“Yes. She was almost past the child-bearing years and had given up all hope of having a baby. Surprise!” Marco threw his arms wide.

“That must have been some surprise. No wonder she dotes on you.”

A frown crossed his face, but he didn’t comment.

They did the dishes in a comfortable silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. Aja thought about her parents and if they felt the same way about her. She knew her father adored her, but her mother didn’t bother with her much, taking for granted that Aja would be taken care of by someone in the house. Usually she’d had a nanny or the housekeeper to look after her, but sometimes she felt invisible. Like if she disappeared one day, no one would notice.

“All done.” Marco snapped the dish towel and hung it over the rack. “Thanks for your help. It was nice having you over.”

“Thanks for having me. I enjoyed it. Nona is a wonderful cook.”

“Yes. She is.”

They stood and looked at each other for a moment; the ease of moments before disappeared. She cleared her throat. “Well, I better get to bed.”

“I’ll walk you back.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Marco didn’t reply. He took her arm and led her to the door in his take-charge way. She tried not to get irritated, but she hated it when people didn’t listen to her. Aja wasn’t going to spoil the evening, though, so she just pressed her lips together and walked quicker.

The air had cooled off considerably since they’d had dinner. She hugged her arms around herself, shrugging off Marco’s hand.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

Marco put his arm around her, causing goose pimples to rise all over her arms. They weren’t from the cold.

“I’m fine, Marco.” Aja moved away, trying to put a little distance between them.

When they reached the door, she turned to say goodnight and he pulled her into his arms, thoroughly kissing her.

It took a couple of seconds for Aja to get her senses together. She pulled away and shoved him back. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.” He said it nonchalantly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You didn’t ask me.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“You didn’t seem to mind last night, Aja.”

“Last night was, well…” she sputtered not knowing what to say.

“Oh, is it Pietro? You’d rather be with him?”

“No! I’m not with anyone.”

“He didn’t seem to think so.”

She felt horrified. Somehow he’d gotten the idea she was a loose woman and he was going to get his little piece of ass. Aja was furious that she’d softened toward him. “I’m not that kind of woman. Pietro took without asking, too, and I don’t appreciate that.”

“What if I ask? Can I have a kiss then?”

Her answer was to slam the door in his face. She stomped up the stairs muttering curses and blaming herself for being such an idiot. Men were nothing but trouble. She knew this and still she’d gotten involved with two of them within days of coming to Italy.
 

“Aja!”

She whirled around. Marco was calling up to her window. She slammed the shutter, cursing when she heard his laughter down below. “Asshole.” She said it loud enough for him to hear and he laughed again.

“Goodnight, Aja. Sleep well.
Voglio essere a letto con te
.”

Aja had no idea what that meant - but from the snickering outside her door - it had to be something sexual. She threw herself onto the bed and folded the pillow around her head. She would get him back for making her feel like a fool. She was determined to find a way. She didn’t survive three older brothers without a few tricks up her sleeve.
Just you wait, Marco, just you wait.

Chapter 20

Aja woke with a scream, looking wildly around for Stephen. When she saw the familiar room, she realized it was a dream. She lay back down and tried to catch her breath. There wasn’t any sound in the house so it didn’t seem that anyone had woken up.
 

The dream had been vivid - Stephen was attacking her again and she was helpless to fend him off. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and this time there wasn’t a knife nearby. It occurred to her why Marco’s advances had made her so angry the night before. It’d reminded her of Stephen; a man who took without asking. There was no respect involved. She had thought Marco was starting to respect her, but it appeared to be just a sham. Aja decided to remain steadfast in staying away from Marco; from any man. That had been her intention in coming to Italy, but for some stupid reason she hadn’t factored randy Italian men into the equation. She’d figured they would be easy to stay away from.
How weak am I?

The dream reminded Aja of meeting Stephen just after she graduated from university. He was from a small town in British Columbia, a few hours from Vancouver. She remembered how charming he was, the life of the party, and how he seemed to think she was the most attractive, funny girl he’d ever met. He would laugh and say she killed him. It never occurred to her that it was at her expense.
Maybe having three older brothers hadn’t taught me as much as I’d thought.
But The Brothers, for all their crazy ways, had never been disrespectful.

Olly knew - and vehemently disliked - Stephen and had protested when they’d started dating. Aja couldn’t understand it. Stephen seemed a lot like her brothers. She figured it was just jealousy or typical big-brother protectiveness. Olly said Stephen was a womanizer, and Aja said it took one to know one. He’d agreed and took the wind right out of her sails.

Sure enough, they hadn’t been dating more than six months when Stephen cheated. Aja confronted him and he lost it. He even slapped her. The incident with the knife happened and the vendetta was born.