Decadent
“You would fire me?” Como asked, surprised.
“If you continued to force my hand.”
Como held my gaze as if trying to ascertain whether I was serious or bluffing. If he knew me as well as he claimed, he would know I didn’t bluff. The fact that we were having this conversation, after I’d already settled the matter, created no small amount of heartburn. He was right in that Uva Persa was weighing on my shoulders with all the unwieldy grace of an elephant, but the day would never come that I invited Como back into my bed. I never made the same mistake twice.
“No one will ever love you the way I do,” Como said, his lips disappearing as his frown deepened into a scowl. “No one will understand your burdens as I do.”
Como truly believed his own conviction and because he was a good man, I softened a little. “Perhaps,” I conceded for the sake of his ego. “But I am not the woman for you. I would only bring you misery. Please, let us put this tiresome argument to rest and return to what we are truly good at together.”
I would never beg but I didn’t want to lose Como as a friend or as a trusted business ally. He’d been my right hand for so many years and I didn’t want to lose him over something as stupid as misplaced affections.
After a long tense moment, Como jerked a short nod to indicate we could move on and I breathed a secret sigh of relief. Hopefully, this conversation was well and truly done. Moving quickly to business, I tapped the desk, saying, “I need to go over the contracts for the campaign. Would you please have them sent to my office?”
“Of course.”
Grateful to be back on course, I left Como and headed for the grounds. I liked to be visible in all areas of production, from the business side to the agricultural. But when I walked the grounds, the fresh air tickling my nose, the cypress trees swaying in the breeze, I felt closest to Enzo.
My twin brother, my touchstone, was the one who’d been enamored with the winemaking business. He’d had so many plans, so many hopes and dreams.
It was Enzo who had first mentioned the legacy of the lost grapes. At the time, I’d listened to him talk about the possibility of resurrecting ancient varietals but it’d seemed a fantasy, something to dream about. Enzo had been sure that it was a possibility and he was going to try to make it happen when he was old enough.
But my brother never got the chance. When he died in an auto accident at sixteen, a part of me died with him. Twins share a bond that is hard to explain.
Enzo would’ve been a premier winemaker—his love for the business had been unparalleled. I was but Enzo’s weak imitation, but I swore to his memory that I would never let Baroni wines fail. They would thrive in his honor.
Uva Persa would be our crowning achievement. Only Nonno knew what I’d been through to cultivate my secret vineyard, and he kept my secret, but the pressure to succeed was nearly crushing me.
Even after carefully selecting the property to grow the tenerone—testing the soil, checking for acidity and appropriate climate, tending to the vineyard as it finally yielded fruit—it’d taken three years for the wine to mature and it was finally ready for its debut.
So when Donato came around making offers, what he didn’t know was that there was no amount I would ever accept. I would never shame Enzo’s dream by selling—much less selling to an American.
Donato would just have to find another winery to purchase for his collection.
Castello di Baroni would never be for sale.
CHAPTER THREE
Dante
ALESSANDRA EXPECTED ME to leave the grounds. Given her curt refusal to entertain my substantial offer, it wasn’t surprising that she gave me little thought after leaving me in the great hall.
But I wasn’t ready to leave.
Maybe I’d play tourist and check out the gift shop. I needed to poke around, get a more accurate idea of what I was dealing with. I couldn’t think of a better way to get information than playing the part of a tourist within Castello di Baroni walls.
With a final appreciative glance around the great hall—my father would dig the whole king of the castle vibe the room gave off—I headed for the gift shop.
It was easy enough to find, and I stepped inside with a friendly smile and a disarming disposition for the attractive woman manning the counter. Unlike my brothers, I wasn’t one to use the Donato charm to get what I wanted, but I liked to win and I wasn’t above using whatever tools I had at my disposal.
“Welcome to Castello di Baroni,” she said with a sweet Italian accent and a welcoming smile. “My name is Mia. May I interest you in a sample today?”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mia. I’m Dante. What are you pouring?” I asked, feigning curiosity.
“Well, Dante, you’re in for a treat,” Mia said, retrieving a small tasting glass. “Today we have a bottle of Castello di Baroni’s Chianti Classico. Our wines have been served on royal tables since the seventeenth century.”
“That’s quite a claim,” I said.
“And completely verifiable,” she said, eyes sparkling. “But once you taste our wines, you’ll understand why Castello di Baroni is a premier choice for discerning palates.”
I accepted the glass and swirled the dark burgundy before burying my nose to appreciate the notes rising from the glass. With a short smile, I took a sip. It was good. Not quite as good as the Riserva Alessandra had shared earlier but still quite good. It was easy to see why Castello di Baroni was a solid label.
My father would enjoy having the label in his collection.
But first, I had to bring it home. “Excellent,” I said, smiling as I pretended to be in awe of the grounds.
“We offer shipping to anywhere around the world,” Mia said, fishing for a sale. “Having a Baroni wine on the table is a guaranteed conversation starter.”
“I can imagine,” I mused, savoring the wine. I took a moment to peruse the shop, making sure my gaze returned to the large open window with the gorgeous view of the grounds. “Incredible. The history within these walls… I’m overwhelmed by everything.”
She nodded, pleased that I was impressed. “Is this your first trip to Italy?”
“Actually, yes,” I answered, stretching the truth a bit. I’d been to Italy for business but I’d never played the tourist. Most of my time in Italy had been spent in boardrooms or hotel bars. I’d spent precious little time enjoying the visual treats the country was known for. “I’m so glad I stumbled on this place. It’s simply stunning. A working winery with such deep roots…pretty amazing.”
Mia was happy to chirp on about her employers’ origins, which I eagerly encouraged. The more I knew about my opponent, the better.
“Castello di Baroni has the distinction of being the largest winery in the Chianti Classico area as well as being one of the oldest working wineries in the region. Did you know that the original castle was built in the late thirteen hundreds?”
“Very impressive. All that history…if only these walls could talk, eh?”
Mia giggled. “Much intrigue and bloodshed. The Medicis were frequent guests and where they went, scandal followed.”
I laughed along with Mia. “You should put that on the brochure.”
“Oh, goodness,” she said with a flirty smile. “Alessandra would never do that.”
“And who is Alessandra?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“Alessandra di Baroni. She is the winery’s CEO and the only living Baroni heir.”
“And does this Alessandra have no sense of adventure? I think playing up the Medici angle would be a sensational tourist trap. You’d sell more wine that way.”
“We do things differently here at Castello di Baroni. It’s not always about the sale,” Mia said, politely chastising me for such a crass suggestion. I probably came off as typically American. I’d done enough traveling throughout Europe to know that Americans were often disdained for our lack of tradition or sense of ritual.
“I agree, the way you’re doing things is better. Obviously, when you’ve been around since the thirteen hundreds, you’ve got a firm handle on how to succeed.” I winked to show that I was capable of listening to subtle cues. She rewarded me with an approving smile. I sensed a deep appreciation for Alessandra, which was interesting. While Alessandra may seem the hardnose, she must truly value her staff as Mia wasn’t about to say anything that threw her boss under the bus.
There was no one I would consider loyal in our employ. I had no doubt that any of the executives who sat in the boardroom at Donato Inc. would sell their own grandmother if it meant getting ahead. That was just the nature of business. I didn’t hold it against them, but I wondered what it would be like to be the recipient of Mia’s brand of loyalty. A world without fake smiles, ass-kissing and backstabbing as the norm.
Right, like that place existed. Appearances were deceiving. For all I knew sweet Mia could be sleeping with Alessandra’s father behind closed doors or embezzling from the company.
“Tell me more about the castle,” I prompted, steering the conversation to ground where Mia felt more comfortable. “I find it all so fascinating.”
“Oh, it truly is. The castle survived the devastation of World War II without so much as losing a pebble in her foundation, whereas other castles in the area weren’t as lucky. Some say the castle is blessed.”
“And here I thought castles were supposed to be haunted. Surely there are a few ghosts rattling around the stones. Please don’t ruin all my European castle stereotypes.”
“Perhaps one or two,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “There is a story about an old groundskeeper who can be seen walking the vines from time to time, but he seems to be the helpful sort of ghost, not the scary kind.”
“No wailing lady in white to be found?” I asked.
“Not that I’ve heard but you’d have to ask Alessandra. She grew up in the castle and if there’s anything ghostly, she’d know.”
I let that information sink in for a moment. “Grew up in the castle? Wow, that’s not something you hear every day. The only people I’ve ever heard of living in a castle are the Windsors.”
“Well, Windsor Castle is older than Castello di Baroni and impressive as well. Have you been?”
“Not much of a touristy traveler,” I admitted. “But I see now that I’ve been missing out. I think I need to start seeing the world through a different lens, which definitely includes a few castle tours. I’m bound to find at least one with a wailing lady in white, right?”
“The odds are in your favor,” she said, laughing. “Actually, you seem like someone who might be interested in a special event the winery holds each year to celebrate the harvest,” she said, reaching beneath the counter to produce a five-by-seven invitation printed on thick card stock with gold filigree. “A man of your tastes might find tonight’s event worth your while.”
The woman was good. Without being obvious, she’d sized me up quickly and determined I had the pocketbook required for such an event.
I accepted the invite, flipping it over to read the details of the black-tie event. “Una Notte Magica,” I murmured, and I knew I’d been given an excellent chance to learn more about Alessandra even if she didn’t welcome me with open arms. “Will the Baroni family be in attendance? I’d love to meet the people behind such an esteemed winery,” I said.
“Oh yes, it’s a big event for the family. They take great pride in their annual event. It’s a Baroni tradition and they are very approachable, very generous with their time.”
Perfect. “Forgive my ignorance but…how does one family run this operation so seamlessly?” I asked, pandering to the woman’s pride in her employer. “I’m surprised Castello di Baroni hasn’t been snapped up by a corporation by this point.”
“Oh no, signor, the Baronis are very close, very dedicated to keeping the business going privately and family operated as it always has been. Tradition is everything to them. They treat their employees like family, unlike those operations owned by bigger entities. We are very proud to be Baroni employees.”
Ah, that explained the loyalty.
“That’s amazing. American business could take a lesson in Baroni employment retention tenets,” I said, playing along. “So, Alessandra is the sole heir? She handles all of this on her own? No other family to help?”
“No, sadly, it is only Alessandra Baroni running things. Enzo, her twin brother, died when he was young, and everything fell to Alessandra. But she has more than risen to the occasion, wouldn’t you say?”
“Absolutely,” I said, seeming impressed. “She must be a powerhouse. A real modern woman.”
The woman giggled. “Oh yes, Alessandra is all that and more. She is bringing Baroni into the future even if her father is a little more reluctant to be so progressive. The wine industry is slow to change but Alessandra is a force of nature. She does not need anyone’s approval to make the big decisions. We are all so proud of her and what she’s doing.”
Realizing she may have said too much, the woman straightened with a quick smile. “I talk of things that are of no interest to you. My apologies, signor.”
“Not at all. I love hearing about the winery’s history,” I said, putting her fears to rest. I’d have to stop giving my younger brother shit for always using the Donato charm to get his way. I had to admit Nico was right, it was efficient. I smiled for Mia’s benefit, adding, “Will you be at the event?”
She blushed and shook her head. “Not this time. I have other plans, unfortunately.”
“More’s the pity,” I said, letting the innuendo drop between us before drawing a regretful breath and pocketing the invite. “Do you work on commission?”
Her cheeks pinked a little. “I receive a small bonus for sales,” she admitted.
I grinned and tossed down my black Amex card. “Then, I’ll need to buy a case of your Riserva. I know my father will go nuts over it.”
She flushed with pleasure and nodded as she prepared the paperwork to finish the sale. I had the case shipped to my father with the simple message, “A preview of your newest obsession,” and then with a smile left the gift shop with a plan forming.
I needed to get closer to Alessandra and this event tonight was just the venue I needed to make my move.
There were certain things in life that were irrefutable:
1) In spite of the recent spate of flat-earthers squawking to the contrary, the earth was, in fact, round.
2) No matter race, religious background or gender, everyone had a price.
And finally…
3) Women couldn’t resist a Donato in a tuxedo.
I chuckled at my private wisdom and headed for my hotel room.
CHAPTER FOUR
Alessandra
UNA NOTTE MAGICA was an event my family held every year to celebrate a successful harvest. We spent a lot of money to ensure the attendees remembered the Baroni name. It was advertising at its most obscene. I tolerated it because business was more than just making sure your product was superior, it was also about making connections within your community and circle of influence.
It just so happened my circle of influence comprised old white men stuck in their ways, and suffering a night of their condescending snobbery was a waste of my precious time.
However, I wasn’t so foolish as to believe that I didn’t need their influence, particularly with the launch of Uva Persa around the corner, so I would play the game a bit longer.
My best friend, Sophia Russo, zipped my dress as I held my hair up. “Suck it in,” she advised with a laugh as she shrink-wrapped me into the black formfitting gown. I squeaked a little as the final stretch of zipper found its home and I slowly let out my breath as I turned to face Sophia. Her smile was radiant, if not a little sardonic. She quipped, “I hope you didn’t plan to eat tonight because not much else could fit in that dress.”
“Of course not, I’m too on edge to eat anyway,” I said, turning to put the finishing touches on my makeup. My thoughts should’ve been on tonight but my brain kept stubbornly throwing Donato into my mental theater, which was a fresh irritant to my already taut nerves. “If Alberico is there and tries to pressure me to dance with him, I’ll grind my heel into his insole.”
“His family expects you to marry him,” Sophia said. “Your pedigrees match up. It’s not a terrible idea, you know. He’s not ugly and he stands to inherit a sizable fortune. Plus, his family descends from the House of Medici so he has royalty in his blood.”
“Well, perhaps if the Italian monarchy hadn’t ended in the forties that might be something to crow about. Today, it’s simply colorful conversation and it means nothing. Besides, I’m not looking for a man to lend his influence. I’ve had enough of that nonsense and it’s time to make a change.”
Sophia sighed, shaking her head. “Always trying to change the world,” she said. “Enzo would be proud.”
Enzo had been Sophia’s one true love. His death had brought Sophia and me closer and we’d been thick as thieves ever since. She was the one I could trust with anything. If things had turned out differently, it might’ve been Enzo and Sophia making this historic leap into new pastures for Castello di Baroni, but fate had played a cruel game, taking Enzo and leaving me to push for change.
“I hope so,” I said, trying not to tear up and ruin my makeup. Enzo was my soft spot. I dabbed at my eyes. “Everything I do, I do with Enzo in mind.”
“I know you do but this is your accomplishment,” Sophia reminded me. “You push so hard in his memory that you overshadow your own talent. I’ve seen you do things that I’m not sure Enzo would’ve been able to handle.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Enzo loved this business.”
“Yes, and he was a dreamer. He loved the romance of the wine industry, not the business side of it. Sometimes I think because we lost him so soon we’ve idealized him. We can be honest about who he was without diminishing his character.”
Enzo’s memory was precious. Maybe Sophia was right. I did have a tendency to protect his legacy with a ferocity usually reserved for mothers and their children.
Sophia slipped her hand into mine. “But I do know that he would’ve been so extra proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished thus far. You’re the reason Castello di Baroni remains top tier, not because the wine sells itself. Even if your father does not see this… I do.”
I paused for a minute to gaze at Sophia with love. “You’re too good to me, Sophia,” I said.
She shook her head. “No, I only speak what I know to be true.”
Sophia would never lie to me nor would she fill my head with flattery simply to play to my ego. “I wish Enzo had lived so you could be my true sister instead of simply the sister of my heart.”
Sophia’s smile warmed with love. “That’s all I need.” She released my hand and stepped back to give my dress a final perusal with a critical eye. Satisfied, she nodded, proclaiming, “Absolutely exquisite. It simply isn’t fair to every man whose heart will explode upon seeing you.”
I chuckled, my cheeks heating, but I quickly pointed out, “I’m not the only one who will turn heads. That white dress on you is nearly a crime. Perhaps Alberico will notice you instead of me.”
Sophia’s white gown was in stark contrast to mine but she wore it with grace and elegance. Whereas I was blessed with an overabundant bosom that made everything I wore nearly obscene, she was lithe and lean like a willow tree.
Sophia blushed, pushing a lock of her burgundy hair behind her ear, pink staining her cheeks. “You are a sweet talker. You’re the one who steals the air in the room. No one will notice me the minute they see you.”
“Nonsense. You’re so beautiful. Enzo is surely smiling down at us both, but you in particular. I am sure he’s staring hard enough to leave a bruise.”
Sophia’s breath caught as her smile deepened with soul-deep longing, and my heart hurt that Sophia would forever reserve that special place for Enzo. She was too young to willingly put herself on the shelf but Sophia was as stubborn as she was beautiful.
If soul mates existed, Enzo had been Sophia’s.
But Enzo died so young. It wasn’t fair.
Sophia was like a hothouse flower, stunning and fragile. She was incredibly beautiful but she lacked the fire that burned in my belly. Whereas I was loud and determined, she was quiet and kind, preferring a book and a glass of wine over a party. “Your Prince Charming is out there but you’re not going to meet him in your sitting room,” I playfully admonished. “You have to actually get out there and meet people.”
“What am I doing tonight?” she teased. “Is this not going out?”
“Once a year doesn’t count,” I said. “And none of these old men are anyone I’d want you falling in love with. They are fossils—you need someone with spirit.”
She laughed. “Maybe I’d like a fossil. Seems very peaceful. You’re the one who craves adventure, not me. We both know that Enzo was wild enough for the both of us.”
I pursed my lips. “Enzo would’ve wanted you to find someone, not pine after him for the rest of your life.”
This was a conversation we’d had many times and just as before, Sophia shut me down quickly but sweetly. “We are not playing matchmaker tonight. You need to focus on what’s important. Uva Persa is your crowning achievement and you need to make sure nothing stands in the way of its success, which means you need to play nice with the old cronies who run this industry.”
Solid advice even if I wanted to argue the point. “Still, you’re too young to be closed off like you are. It worries me.”
She laughed softly, her brown eyes full of love. “You worry about all the wrong things. I’m happy just the way things are. Why would I want to risk upsetting the balance I have now? Some people are not meant to be paired up and that’s okay. I’m happy.”
Was I worrying too much over something that wasn’t true? “I know how much you loved Enzo…” I said, my voice trailing, not sure why I was pursuing this topic when it wasn’t the time or place. Maybe I was nervous and talking about someone else’s problems took the focus from mine. Yes, that was it, and it wasn’t fair to Sophia to draw the focus unnecessarily. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t try to force you into anything you’re not ready for or interested in.”
Again, Donato popped into my head. He would try again, I could feel it. He wasn’t the kind of man who gave up easily. He was accustomed to getting his way and losing was a foreign concept to him. His arrogance was the last thing I needed to deal with right now. I double-checked my profile, twisting and turning in the full-length gown, assuring myself that I looked impeccable as befitting my place within Castello di Baroni.
“You’re exquisite,” Sophia assured me as if privy to my internal dialogue. I graced her with a grateful smile and knew it was time to leave. I had a small apartment in Siena, the closest city to the family estate, but I also had living quarters inside the manor. Tonight, for expediency, I chose to stay in the manor so our walk downstairs to the grounds was easy, even in heels.
Sophia clutched my arm and inhaled sharply as the grounds came into view. We pulled out all the stops for this event. Catering to an old-world guard, stately elegance was the key. We hired a catering company to transform a section of the grounds into a magical place with fairy lights winding through the cypress trees and a full orchestra playing classics from various Italian composers.
“You always outdo yourself,” Sophia said, awed. “Truly magical, my friend.”
I smiled, appreciative of her praise, but I was already in work mode. My father broke apart from his cluster of friends to kiss me on both cheeks. “You are a vision,” he said, beaming. “Your mother would be proud.”
Mama had passed several years ago, leaving me as the sole female in the Baroni family. My father would never remarry but I wished he would so he would have something to focus on other than what I was doing with the business.