Katie studied her sisters. Francesca was taller, slimmer than her twin, with small bones and lighter eyes. Brenna took after Grandma Tessa and Grandpa Lorenzo. Large bones filled out her five-foot, seven-inch frame. She had thick dark hair, brown eyes, and olive skin. Despite her Irish name, she appeared to be all Italian.
“Stop whining,” Katie said. “You’re both pretty.”
“Yeah, and I outweigh my taller twin by nearly thirty-five pounds,” Brenna said. “You’re tiny, too. I hate you both.”
The sound of footsteps in the hallway broke up the conversation. Their father and Grandpa Lorenzo entered with Zach, Mia, and David. Katie introduced Brenna and Francesca, then wished she could excuse herself to the other side of the planet. But no. Seconds later Grammy M was urging everyone to their seats. And just as she’d promised, she put Katie directly across from Zach so her oldest granddaughter could spend the entire meal reliving the humiliation.
Dinner with the Marcelli family was like a scene out of a Merchant Ivory film, Zach thought nearly an hour later. A beautiful setting filled with charming, interesting, slightly odd characters in nice clothes, all accompanied by classical opera in the background. He had a sudden yearning to go find a Starbucks and take a call on his cell phone.
They were a party of eleven at a table built for a much larger group, so there was plenty of space between each place setting. Dozens of dishes lined the center of the table—each filled with something more delicious than the next. He hadn’t known there were that many ways to serve pasta. And even better than the food was the wine.
He took another drink, appreciating the fullness of the Cabernet, the rich middle and mellow finish. The family served their own private blend. The handwritten label contained notes about year of harvest, location in the vineyard, the type of barrel, and how long it had been aged.
Lorenzo Marcelli noticed Zach’s interest.
“We make a few cases the old-fashioned way,” the patriarch of the family explained, raising his voice to be heard from his seat at the head of the table. “They’re pressed separately from the main harvest and then aged. This is for family.”
Mia, sitting next to Zach, giggled. “Grandpa means that someone stomped the grapes with his feet.”
Brenna smiled at her sister. “Mia’s not into the process—only the product. Crushing the grapes by hand…or by foot, as it were…is a more delicate way to achieve the end result. Less juice is extracted from the grapes. Most harvests are pressed by massive machines that can crush a grape to sawdust. We don’t go to that level, but for our commercial wines the old ways are too expensive and slow.”
Lorenzo turned to Brenna. “You remember.”
She sighed. “I still love the grapes, Grandpa.”
“Then why aren’t you here? Working with me? Of all your sisters you’re the only one with the passion for what we do.”
“I have to be in L.A. You know that. Jeff’s medical training was there and now his practice is. I’m married. My place is with my husband. Haven’t you always taught us that?”
Lorenzo snorted, obviously unconvinced. Lorenzo’s wife, sitting at the opposite end of the table, flapped her napkin at her husband and her granddaughter. “Zach does not want a lesson in wine making. You can be boring another time. Tonight we celebrate the young lovers.”
Her beatific smile made Zach uncomfortable. His half hour or so alone with Mia’s father and grandfather hadn’t given him the opportunity to casually discern opinions on the potential union. Instead Lorenzo had talked about the land, showing Zach a map of the winery grounds.
Since sitting down to dinner, however, the family had offered multiple toasts to David and Mia’s happiness. Didn’t anybody else think the marriage was a damn stupid idea?
He studied the various family members. Mia’s parents seemed engrossed in each other, as were Mia and David. Not wanting to observe young love in full bloom gave him plenty of time to check out the rest of the family.
He glanced at the Marcelli daughters. Francesca had the face and the body of a cover model. She reminded him of Ainsley, his ex-wife, and he instantly dismissed her as high maintenance. Brenna, the only married sister, seemed torn between her devotion to her husband and the pull of the family business. Which left Katie.
Katie, who sat across from him but refused to look at him. Katie, who had apparently told her family all about their meeting in such terms that her grandmothers had practically picked out china patterns. Katie, who had great legs and the kind of mouth that made a man fantasize about being taken advantage of.
Kathleen Elizabeth Marcelli—age twenty-eight, never married. She had a bachelor’s degree in business from UCLA, and had started working for a party planner/organizer type during college. Five years ago Katie bought out the client list and opened Organization Central. She had three full-time employees, seven working part-time.
No illegal vices—from what he could find out, no vices at all. She was smart, organized, reasonably successful, and while she visited her family regularly, she didn’t make them her life.
He’d hired her to get her in his corner. Based on the chemistry clicking between them, all was going according to plan.
At least the wedding wasn’t for a few months. That would give Zach time to stop things. His son was too important for him to lose this battle. He was the best at what he did for a reason.
“So, Zach,” Lorenzo said, motioning with his wineglass. “We have the big wedding this summer, then next year, the bambinos, eh?”
Babies? Zach nearly spit. Mia and David were still babies themselves. Damn. The last thing he needed was Mia getting pregnant.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Grandpa, I have school. I’m not getting pregnant until I have my degree.”
Tessa frowned. “But being a mother is more important than a few classes at a university. You’re a woman, Mia, not a computer. You don’t need to fill yourself with more learning. You’re a smart girl. Wouldn’t you like to have some babies?”
“There’s plenty of time for that,” Zach said hastily, earning a grateful smile from Mia.
“I disagree.” Colleen Marcelli, the girls’ mother, spoke up. “I had Katie when I was nineteen and the twins the following year. But Mia didn’t come along until ten years later. I have to say, that pregnancy was a lot more difficult. A woman’s body is built to have children early.”
Even petite, grandmotherly Mary-Margaret had an opinion. “I suppose if you’re waitin’ until summer to get married, there’s no hope of an unexpected bundle of joy?”
Zach nearly choked.
“We need a son,” Lorenzo said, pounding his fist on the table.
Zach glanced from the old man to his equally aging wife. Even with all the advances in fertility research, there was no way that was going to happen.
“Brenna.” Lorenzo turned his attention to his granddaughter. “You’re married nine years and no babies.”
“Grandpa, we’ve had this discussion before. Jeff had to get through all his medical training first.”
“Bambinos come first,” Lorenzo insisted. “Besides, he’s a doctor now. Why are you still so skinny?”
“If only,” Brenna muttered.
“My granddaughters—you all let me down. Katie—my beautiful Katie. Why haven’t you found a nice boy?”
“Lorenzo,” his wife warned. “Leave the girls alone.”
He ignored her. “Francesca—you have a face like an angel. For many years you mourned the loss of your husband, but it is time to move on.” He motioned to the table. “Only little Mia goes out of her way not to break her old grandfather’s heart.”
“Pop, back off,” Marco told his father. “If the girls are happy, we’re all happy.”
Lorenzo didn’t look convinced.
Zach glanced at the sisters. Their expressions were identical masks of long-suffering. Apparently this wasn’t an unusual outburst. Still, he felt a strong need to grab David and make a break for the car.
Their mother straightened in her chair. “We’re nearly finished with the new labels. They’re very impressive,” she said, and suddenly everyone was talking about wine.
Mia leaned toward him. “Welcome to the family. It’s not always like this. Just when someone mentions something about a wedding.”
Great. So in addition to worrying about David screwing up his life, Zach also had some concerns about mental stability in the older generation.
When the meal ended, the sisters quickly cleared the table. Brandy was brought out, along with trays of cookies.
“Bring in some paper,” Colleen called. “I don’t know when we’re going to all be together again. Let’s work out some of the details of the wedding while we have the chance.”
Zach swore silently. “Isn’t there plenty of time for that? Maybe we should enjoy the engagement for a while.”
Colleen looked at him as if he’d lost his frontal lobe. “Zach, I’m sure you’re a whiz in the courtroom, but like the average male, you don’t know anything about planning a wedding. Think of it as invading a small country. We need to plan, organize—”
“Shop,” Katie offered helpfully as she stepped back into the dining room. She carried several pads of paper and a handful of pens. Instead of circling to her seat, she paused by his chair, and for the first time since dinner had started, actually looked at him. “You might want to take notes, just so that later, when you’re finally home, you don’t try to convince yourself that this was all just a bad dream.”
A smile teased at the corner of her full mouth, making him want to smile in return. When he’d met her in his office, he’d thought she was attractive and sexy as hell. Now he was impressed by her ability to recover. Most women he knew couldn’t get over a broken fingernail in less than twenty-four hours. Katie had survived what even he had to admit had to have been a pretty humiliating experience, and she’d done so with grace and style.
She was tough. He liked that. He took the pad of paper she offered, along with a pen. As she turned away, he admired the curve of her hip and the length of bare leg exposed by her dress. Tough, together, and more than a pretty face. Exactly the sort of ally he needed to keep his son safe.
The rest of the sisters returned to the dining room. All the women grabbed pads from Katie.
Mia knelt on her chair. “We’ve talked about July,” she said, drawing a big heart in the center of her paper. “Maybe the nineteenth.”
Six pens dutifully scratched out the date. Zach’s good humor faded. Ally or not, how the hell was he going to stop this damn wedding?
“You’ll have the ceremony here,” Marco, Mia’s father said. “The vineyards will be beautiful then, and all the flowers will be in bloom.”
“An arch by the east garden,” Colleen said.
“Exactly.”
Husband and wife smiled at each other. Zach’s stomach knotted. Until then, Marco hadn’t said much, and Zach had been holding out hope that at least one person in the Marcelli family had a brain. Unfortunately Marco seemed just as enthused by the idea of the wedding as everyone else.
He glanced at David. “This is moving pretty fast. You okay with this?”
His son beamed. “It’s great, Dad. Didn’t I tell you this was the best family?”
Oh, yeah. Just peachy, Zach thought grimly.
“We were thinking of afternoon for the ceremony,” Mia continued, after kissing David’s cheek.
“Late afternoon,” Tessa said from her end of the table. “You’ll want a nice dinner. We could have it outside. Lorenzo, do we have enough champagne?”
He dismissed the question with a wave. “What kind of man would I be to not have enough champagne for my youngest granddaughter’s wedding?”