Vin’s jaw set. He walked a very fine line with that loyalty he clung to. Considering all the gray area he’d dabbled in in the past week and a half. He said, “They have a sound business model. I happen to agree with it. I’d like to see them follow through and build their own legacies. It’d also be good for the community’s economy and put River Cross more on a par with Sonoma and Napa Valley, bringing in more tourists and providing more venues for events and festivals. From every angle, I see it as a win-win.”
“Except that I don’t want my sons associating with Jewel Catalano.”
It was a low blow for Gian to use the plural. Yes, Vin knew that Rogen’s father also thought of Vin as a son. Even before Vin had come to live at the estate, because he’d spent so much time there with Rogen and Jewel as kids. Rose-Marie had treated Vin like family, too, doting over him because her own son was off in Manhattan and her daughter was buried in the River Cross cemetery.
Despite Vin’s devastation over his parents’ deaths and his subsequent black moods, he’d actually latched on to the support and affection given by Gian and Rose-Marie. There had always been an underlying current in the mansion, after Vin had moved in, that had almost made him feel as though they were all given a fresh start. It was that particular connection that had made them close. And had gotten them all through the horrific tragedies they’d experienced.
As he thought about that time of his life, something elusive percolated in the back of his brain. But it was only a tiny notion, not strong enough for him to dissect or ruminate over. So he shoved it aside.
He told Gian, “Rogen and I both have deep affection for Jewel. In this instance, I don’t think the sins of the fathers should be visited on the heirs. She has nothing to do with the family feud. Nor do Rogen or I.”
“Understand that I once held Anthony and Sophia in high regard as well. They deceived me.”
Vin’s tightrope became a thin strand as he cautiously, though relevantly, asked, “And the answer is to sabotage their daughter? In the process keep Rogen from his dream as well?”
Gian shrewdly told him, “I didn’t hire you as Chief General Counsel solely because you were a part of this family. I did it because you’re a smart man. Logical. Practical. Someone who thinks things through before acting. I know it hasn’t always been that way, but since you decided to forgo San Francisco State for Yale you’ve really stood on solid ground. I have deep respect for you, as I do for Rogen.”
“But…?”
“But”—Gian speared him with a resolute look—“trust me when I tell you my intentions are neither misguided nor unwarranted. If you take my counsel, the two of you just might come out of this ‘little adventure’ unscathed.”
* * *
When Jewel arrived at the Catalano estate, she left her suitcase and laptop bag in her suite and locked the scotch in the safe in her dressing room, where she kept her most expensive jewelry.
She caught up on e-mails, then sought out her parents, since Cameron had informed her that Anthony was working from the mansion for the remainder of the week. She found him, along with her mother, on one of the patios, having lunch.
Jewel strolled along the pavers under a huge awning. Her mother glanced up at her approach, her fork midway to her mouth. Sophia dropped the utensil on her salad plate. Shoved back her chair. Stood. And marched off.
Jewel gaped.
Her gaze flitted to her father. “What was that all about?”
Anthony reached for his iced tea and took a drink. Then he said, “Give her a little time to digest.”
Jewel’s stomach knotted. “You’re obviously not speaking of the food. She barely made a dent in that salad.”
“She was in town this morning for coffee with her friends. They delicately gave her an earful of River Cross’s latest gossip. Scandal, if you will.”
Oh, Christ.
Jewel slipped into a seat across from her father at the round glass-
topped table. “What’d she tell you?”
“That word on the street is you, Rogen, and Vin are spending your evenings together. And that is the delicate terminology.”
“It was one evening at Rogen’s house—just the two of us. I didn’t even stay over,” she huffed. “And how the hell would anyone know what we were doing, anyway, when we’ve been on a plane the last several days?” As an aside, she added, “By the way, I have the scotch. According to Rogen, his father is going to try to do exactly as you suggested. Keep the scotch and the land.”
“Where is it now?”
“My safe.”
“Excellent. And congratulations on pulling off the acquisitions.”
“Thank you.” She was pleased with her coup, too. But that didn’t stop the churning of her stomach.
Her father tactfully asked, “Are you three … reunited?”