Little Black Dress with Bonus Material (26 page)

I
t was an absolutely picture-perfect first day of May. Toni couldn't have asked for better weather if she'd had Mother Nature on her speed dial.

The sun sat high in the pale blue sky, a late-spring breeze guiding the sheerest of clouds across it. Every tree looked lush and green, as did the hills that gently rose and sloped on either side of the valley and the grass that surrounded the enormous white tent set up on the lawn between the winery buildings and the vineyard. Even the grapevines had cooperated, dressing up for the occasion, their spring-pruned bodies tight and topped by a fulsome cap of verdant leaves. Birds tweeted and soared, tiny shadows against the cerulean. And one very clear voice chirped instructions to the crew setting up for the bash. “Put those extra chairs over there, please!” Vivien trilled, directing party prep with the cool of Martha Stewart and the efficiency of General Patton. “Can we find another tablecloth for the dessert bar ASAP?”

Toni leaned on the railing of the new overlook deck and took in a deep breath, closing her eyes and concentrating on the familiar strains of “I've Got You Under My Skin,” as the jazz band warmed up inside the tent, the music floating out through opened flaps.

“Has anyone seen the centerpiece for the wine-tasting table?” Vivien's voice carried her way, and Toni couldn't help but grin.

Thank God for Vivien Reed, who was more than her right hand. She'd driven down from St. Louis to run the show and then had to zip back to the city again to handle a dinner reception. Toni wasn't sure what she would have done without her these past few weeks as they put the final touches on the “coming-out party” to unveil the spruced-up Morgan Vineyards (no Roman gods or faux villas involved, just elbow grease, the new deck, and lots of fresh paint) along with the grand opening of the Blue Hills arm of Engagements by Antonia and the debut of the ice wine Toni herself had helped to harvest, the first batch of which Hunter had declared “sweet and dry, like love in a bottle.”

Although that's all he would tell her. He'd been very secretive about the new vintage, refusing to give Toni an early preview. In fact, he'd asked for Vivien's cell number so he could confab with her about the arrangements.

“Why can't I be in on it?” Toni had asked him when they'd had dinner at the cottage last night. “I froze my ass off picking the freaking grapes.”

But Hunter had just given her that “aw, shucks” smile, saying only, “You'll have to wait and see.”

Didn't he know by now that waiting was her least favorite pastime?

When Toni had tried to pry the info from Vivien, going so far as volunteering to man the wine-tasting space, her assistant had caught her by the arm and swiftly guided her out of the tent. “Go hang out on the deck for a while, would you? Just relax and enjoy the calm before the storm. Pretend it's your wedding day,” she'd suggested. “You're the bride, and I'm your planner. You've made all the decisions, dotted all the i's and crossed all the t's. Now it's time to savor the moment and leave the rest to me. Scoot!”

Everything will go fine,
she told herself, wishing she didn't feel like she had something to prove, not just to her mom but to everyone else in Blue Hills who'd ever known her. She'd invited most of them, or at least it felt like it, plus a good chunk of Ste. Genevieve County, not to mention every wine-loving client of Engagements by Antonia and every tourist who'd ever signed the Morgan Vineyards' guestbook.

Her nerves had definitely gotten the best of her that morning. She'd spilled coffee on her Hello Kitty pajamas, dropped her toothbrush in the toilet, and nearly seared her ear off with the flat iron.

How'd that saying go, something about having a crappy rehearsal and a great show? She could only hope that would be the case.

Since returning home, she'd worked hard to establish a real presence at the Morgan Vineyards. She was proud of her initiative to update without doing expensive renovations, and she felt good about Hunter's plan to get the winery certified organic, although there was still much to do. So much, in fact, that she and Evie had tried to persuade Hunter to assume the general management duties as he'd been doing a bang-up job as a consultant. Though flattered, he'd politely declined. “My dad understands the need to spread my wings, but I don't want to give him a heart attack by going completely over to the Dark Side.”

Ha!

Maybe it was a good thing that Hunter wouldn't be at the winery every day. It was getting tougher and tougher being around him as much as she was, when there was such obvious chemistry between them; but they both seemed to want to take it slow. Toni was coming off her two-year relationship with Greg, and Hunter had apparently been through a pretty nasty divorce a year ago.

Besides, she was still trying to figure out how to tell when someone was “the one.” All her years planning weddings and she still didn't know the answer.

“When it's right, you'll feel it in here,” her aunt had said recently at dinner, tapping fingers to her chest, when Toni had fumbled to describe her and Hunter's “status” after Bridget made a crack about seeing “the young Mr. Cummings' truck” coming from the graveled road late on a Saturday night. “Fate has a way of putting people in our path precisely when we're ready.”

Toni had dared to follow up with, “Is the black dress always right?” She couldn't stop thinking about the intimate scene it had revealed to her, which had even begun invading her dreams. “Does it ever show you things that don't come true?”

“Whatever you glimpse is what will be,” Anna had assured her. “Though we're only human,” she'd added, nodding across the table at Evie. “Sometimes we can misunderstand what we see. So if you'd like to share with us, maybe we can help explain—”

“No, no, that's okay,” Toni had said quickly, and a warm flush had crept from her collar.

She shook her head at the memory, blushing even now; focusing again on the great white tent and the worker bees buzzing in and out. Forty-five minutes to go, she mused, checking her watch and thinking maybe she should go down and see if Vivien needed anything. She was so curious about the ice wine besides. Hunter and Evie had kept their plan so hush-hush, she couldn't help wondering what they'd been up to. Although she told herself that, as long as it didn't involve clowns or mimes, she'd be fine.

“Ah, Antonia, there you are!”

She turned around at Bridget's exuberant voice and saw her holding open the door from the four-seasons room for Evie with her cane and Anna in a straw-brimmed hat as the trio emerged onto the deck.

“You're early,” Toni said by way of greeting and went over to hug them all, kissing Evie soundly on the cheek. “Let's sit down for a bit”—she indicated the nearest of the umbrella tables and pulled a chair out for her mom. “Vivien and the crew are still setting up.”

“Are we too soon, dear?” Anna remarked and touched her hat brim as she looked at Evie, befuddled. “I thought you said Hunter asked us to come now. Or did I get that wrong?”

“Hush, Annabelle,” Evie murmured and rolled her eyes heavenward.

“Uh-oh.” Anna clamped a tiny hand over her mouth.

Toni laughed at their obvious attempt at subterfuge. Something
was
up, and she apparently was about to find herself right in the thick of it.

Bridget squinted toward the bird's-eye view of the crisp white tent and the stretch of grapevines beyond. “Ah-ha, I do believe I see Mr. Cummings heading this way right now.”

“I'm dying already! Somebody spill,” Toni begged, but the three women merely glanced at one another, saying nothing. “You all could work for the CIA,” she muttered, knowing firsthand how good each was at keeping secrets.

“Patience, my dear.” Evie smiled.

Bridget began to wave over the railing. “Yoo-hoo, we're up here!”

As if on cue, she heard the
tap-tap-tap
of footsteps ascending the stairs to the deck, and soon enough Vivien and Hunter appeared, both with their arms full.

“Hello, ladies!” Vivien grinned and shot Toni a wink. “Enjoy your special preview,” she said and placed a deep purple napkin and small wine glass before each.

“Viv, what's up?” Toni gave her a look but Vivien merely wiggled her fingers and said, “I've got a party to put on. See you later, boss!” before she headed back down.

“So this must be the table where all the prettiest girls sit,” Hunter remarked and sauntered over with a silver wine cooler. “I'm a lucky man to get you all to myself.”

Dear God.
Toni sat back, watching as Evie, Anna, and Bridget giggled like schoolgirls.

“Laying it on a little thick, aren't we?” she murmured, which earned her a “pooh pooh” from Bridget.

“Toni! Did I mention how especially lovely you look?” Hunter grinned that lopsided grin, enjoying every minute.

“Hmm, you don't look so bad yourself,” she said. He'd turned in his battered jeans and work boots for a more spit-and-polished appearance: button-down, pink tie, and flat-front pants. “Now would you mind telling me what's going on before I bust a gut?”

“I'm very glad you could all make it,” he said, avoiding a reply, and came around the table to stand beside her. There, he paused, setting one hand on the back of her chair while the other remained tucked around the cooler. “I have a special treat for you, a little preview of the Morgan Vineyards' inaugural ice wine. Miss Evie, I salute you, for having the guts to take a chance on my hare-brained ideas. You are an angel among angels,” he said with a reverent duck of his head.

“The pleasure was mine,” Evie replied, and unbelievably, Toni saw her mother blush.

“So, who wants a taste first?” Hunter asked, keeping a cloth wrapped around the bottle as he slipped it out of the cooler, the cork already removed to let it breathe. “Miss Evie?” he said and purposefully bypassed Toni, moving around the table toward her mother.

“Oh, dear boy, I wish I could.” She sighed, putting a hand over her cup. “But I can't drink alcohol. My meds, you know.”

“Me, too,” Anna said, pouting.

Bridget raised her glass. “Well, I sure as heck want some. So fill 'er up!”

Hunter did just that and then came back around to Toni's side. When she looked up at him, the sun was in her eyes, so she couldn't see much as he pulled the linen napkin off the bottle and poured just enough to swirl and taste.

“Well?” he said, leaning forward, waiting. He had a look of concentration on his face, and she feared he'd break out in a cold sweat if she didn't take a sip soon.

“Hurry up,” her mother prodded, which seemed funny, seeing as how she was the most patient woman Toni had ever met.

“All right already.” She brought the glass to her nose, swirled and sniffed, as she'd done with the grape juice as a kid. Then she took a sip, delicate at first, every taste bud on her tongue moaning with delight as the sweet, fruity taste burst wide-open in her mouth. She quickly swallowed the rest and held her glass up for more. “Oh, God,” she murmured, “that's good. Really good.”

Hunter sighed with relief, joy flooding his face. “If you'd said anything else, I would've thrown myself off the deck.”

“More please!” She held her glass in the air.

“Okay, but pour it yourself,” he replied and pushed the bottle in her hands.

“Nice manners you've got,” she muttered, wondering what the heck was wrong with him. Until she tilted the neck to give herself a refill and suddenly stopped cold. Deliberately, she set the bottle upright and stared at the pretty label: the background a pale pink, a golden swirl of grapes and leaves surrounding the name of the wine in raised gold letters. “Oh, my God.” Her hand started to shake. “Oh, my God.”

“So you like it?” Hunter said, and Evie added, “It was all his idea.”

Sweet Antonia.

He had called the wine Sweet Antonia.

“I can't believe you did this.” Toni was afraid she would hyperventilate as she gently set the bottle down, hardly able to take her eyes from it. “It's the loveliest thing anyone's ever done for me.”

She looked up at Hunter, and he squeezed her shoulder, saying nothing, just smiling and quietly stealing her heart.

“I love it, thank you,” she said, so amazed by what he'd done that she barely noticed someone else had joined them on the deck.

“Am I in the right place?” a distinctly male voice asked.

Hunter's hand dropped away, and he left Toni's side for a minute. “Hey, you made it!” he said, sounding excited and nervous at once. “Won't you please join us?”

The latecomer followed Hunter to the table, and Toni glanced up to see a distinguished-looking older man, slightly smaller than Hunter; once-broad shoulders vaguely stooped beneath a well-fitting blue blazer. His white hair was thin but neatly combed away from his brow. He had Hunter's strong chin and wide mouth.

His father,
she decided, nearly falling off her chair.

“Toni, there's someone I'd like you to meet,” Hunter began to introduce them, only to have his dad interrupt.

“My good God, Annabelle?” he inquired, ignoring the rest of them altogether. “Annabelle Evans, is that you?”

“Davis?” Anna rose to her feet, startled and trembling. She set one hand on her hat brim and the other on her heart. “Oh, my heavens, here we are after all these years.”

“Yes, here we are,” he said, making his way over toward her. “You still look as pretty as ever.”

“You look mighty good, too.”

For a long moment after, no one said a word as Davis and Anna simply stared, taking each other in.

“For Pete's sake, sit down right here, Mr. Cummings, would you?” Bridget said, putting down her glass and giving up her seat. “Miss Evie, why don't you and I check out the view from the railing?”