A chill goes down my arms, my stomach sinking. “No. I mean, they bought out those vineyards pretty recently, anyway. And as far as I know, they only sell grapes to other wineries. So no. I never worked as a sales rep for them,” I say, which is the truth. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
Fuck. My mind begins to spin. Is he baiting me? Do theyknow?
Reminding myself to breathe, all I can do is pray that nothing shows on my face. Any time a mention of the Brunos comes up, I panic. But Dante can’t possibly know about me. If he did, I wouldn’t be in his brother’s bed. Not that Armani is ever actually in bed with me…
So, okay. Maybe Dante isn’t questioning me because he’s suspicious. He could be genuinely curious.
I feel like I should respond with a follow-up comment or question, but I’m not sure what to say to deflect, so I don’t. Instead, I excuse myself and head upstairs to Armani’s room. It takes some time, but I talk myself down. The Bellantis know nothing. I haven’t said or done a single thing that would mark me as a spy. I’m safe. I’m sure of it.
For the next few days, I fall into a rhythm, immersing myself in work and acting just as cool and distant toward Armani and his brothers as they’ve been toward me. Luckily, I have a full client roster that keeps me quite busy. I’m doing the best I can with the change of scenery, but truthfully, working from my office at the winery feels uncomfortable. It’s almost like I’m under a microscope and I can’t quite settle down while I’m there.
Which is why, when Frankie mentions that the tasting room staff is in a tizzy because they ran out of receipt paper rolls, I jump at the chance to drive to the office supply store. I’m going to use my supply run as an excuse to stop in and see Juliana. I haven’t been able to shake the unease I’ve been feeling all week, and if anyone can give me a pep talk, it’s her.
After purchasing a few packs of receipt paper, I send a text to Juliana to let her know I’m on my way over. The second I cross the threshold into her penthouse, the rich scent of fresh espresso greets me. I instantly feel my shoulders relax.
“Step into my war room, darling!” she calls out from down the hall.
Setting down my purse, I make my way to her bedroom, where she has two steaming mugs waiting. We used to jokingly call our bedroom in college the war room. It’s where we made all our master plans to catch the boys we liked, got ready for hot dates, and pulled all-nighters at the end of each semester. We’re older now, but we still do a lot of planning in bed.
“You have several days’ worth of news to fill me in on,” Juliana says, handing me a cup which I take eagerly. “You haven’t picked up any of my calls. Too busy gettin’ busy?”
“I freaking wish. Sadly, there isn’t much to tell. That’s why I’m here.”
She looks at me with a pout. “Really? No sexy times at all?”
I set down my espresso and flop on the edge of the bed. “Believe it or not, he hasn’t touched me since I moved in. We share a room, a bed, but he’s never in it. I see him about five minutes a day, Juliana. He’s always working or running off to meetings. What the hell?”
She sighs and gives me a sympathetic look. “What did you do? Did you two get in a fight? Did you refuse some of his terms?”
“No! We never even talked terms. Everything has been copacetic. He asked me to move in, I moved in. He asked me to work out of an office in the winery, I work out of an office in the winery. I’ve done every single thing he’s asked, but all I get is a cold shoulder. And when we do cross paths, which is not frequent, my flirting is to no avail.”
“Hmm.” She paces in a small circle while tapping a finger on her mug. “So, it sounds like you’re more of a showpiece than a plaything. Interesting.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
She shakes her head. “Neither do I. The question is, why?”
I shrug. Now that I’m actually talking about it, I realize how much Armani’s rejection hurts. This was supposed to be a game, dammit.
“There is one thing…” I say, still mulling. “I was looking out one of the second-floor windows and I saw this cement building way off toward the edge of the property. It’s built right into the hill, like a bunker, and it has a big metal security fence around it. But when I asked Armani about it, his demeanor completely changed. He said it was some kind of cellar and that I was never to go down there. It’s off-limits.”
Her eyes light up. “If it’s off-limits, you’ve gotta check it out. He can’t just say something like that and then expect you not to try to investigate! We all know that fairy tale about Bluebeard and his secret room. What if all his ex-wives are locked down there? Or worse…”
“I’m sure it’s nothing like that. It’s probably just wine storage. Or maybe it’s super old and the walls are crumbling, and it floods with groundwater when it rains or something. It could be completely unsafe.”
She swishes a hand at me in annoyance. “Oh, come on. Do you really think they’re going to let any of the buildings on their property fall into that kind of disrepair? And why would there be a fence around it if it was just an abandoned storage cellar? I think you’re scared of it.”
Jules gives me a sassy grin of challenge. I know that grin. It’s the one that says she’s braver than me, has more guts than I’ll ever have. And it’s true. She’s always been fearless. I wish I could be as bold as Juliana.
“Of course I don’t want to go down there,” I admit, “but Iwill. I’m more afraid of what Armani might do to me if he finds out than of the actual cellar.”
Getting caught would be terrifying. Lord knows what kind of punishment I’d receive. A shiver goes down the back of my neck. Armani is hot as hell, but also scary as fuck.
She wags her eyebrows and takes a sip of her espresso. “You’ll be fine. And I’m going to crack my best bottle of wine when you come over here afterward to tell me all about it.”
“Okay.”
