The Fifth Lesson (The Bay Boys #2) (13 page)

“So, are we good?” he asked seriously.

Christie nodded and pecked him on the lips.
 
“Yes,” she breathed against him.
 
“We’re good.”

ELEVEN

Christie was positive her confusion shone on her face when Adam pulled up to a wrought iron gate.
 
Beyond it lay rows and rows of grapevines, all settled around a beautiful, towering estate.
 
It was breathtaking, especially since the golden light from the sun illuminated its majestic stone facade.

Adam rolled down his window and punched in four numbers on a keypad.

She grabbed his other arm.
 
“Adam?
 
What are we doing here?”

The gate began opening with a mechanical whir and he turned to face her.
 
That’s when she glanced out the passenger window and noticed a placard on a stone wall right outside the gate.

Thornton Family Vineyards

Her mind froze.
 
And then in a rush, she went through every conversation she’d ever had with him.
 
Had he ever said anything about his family?
 
He’d talked about them here and there surely, but he’d never mentioned the fact that they owned a vineyard…in
flippin
’ Napa Valley!

“You come from a wine family?” she asked incredulously, turning in her seat to face him.

The gate was opened wide enough for his car to squeeze through so Adam accelerated down a paved road leading up to the house.
 
It was at least a mile long, so she had time to grill him.

He didn’t look at her, but he nodded.
 
“Yeah.
 
My grandfather started growing here in the ‘60s.”

Even she’d heard of the Thornton family.
 
The gallery had used the Thornton’s moscato at their swankiest exhibit opening last year.
 
Her boss had wanted to impress some of the celebrity guests.
 
She’d just never made the connection.
 
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Does it matter?” he murmured.
 
“It’s my family’s vineyard.
 
Obviously, I’m not taking over once my dad retires.”

Okay.
 
Touchy subject.

But he was right.
 
It shouldn’t matter.
 
And yet, it did.
 
It made sense.
 
Adam always had a sophisticated air about him.
 
Reserved.
 
Wealthy.

The massive estate drawing nearer and nearer just emphasized how different their upbringings had been.
 
Christie came from a modest home on the sketchy edges of suburbia.
 
Adam grew up among grapevines and mansions and luxury.

And his mother struggled with depression.

Money isn’t everything
, Christie thought, a hint of sadness creeping up on her.
 
She shouldn’t judge Adam based on the way he grew up.
 
In retrospect, she knew very little about his childhood.
 
There seemed to be a little bad blood in the family, just based on tidbits she’d picked up over the months she’d known him.
 
Little comments here and there added up.

When she was younger, if she passed by a home like this, she would’ve imagined a happy family.
 
A happy marriage, well-loved children.
 
A perfect life.

But just the fact that Adam’s mood darkened the moment they pulled up to the house, just the fact that his mother was ‘unwell,’ as he’d explained, spoke volumes.

“When was the last time you saw your parents?” she asked, trying to keep her tone conversational.

“I try to come see my mom every two weeks or so,” he answered.

“And your dad?”

He shrugged, but the stiffness in his shoulders betrayed his nonchalance.
 
“Every now and again.”

She looked out the window, at the passing grapevines.
 
Everything was so breathtakingly beautiful up close.
 
“Do you two not get along?”

Christie saw his head tilt towards her out of the corner of her eye.
 
He cleared his throat and then answered, “It’s complicated.
 
I love him.
 
But there are some things that are hard to forgive.”

His words made her jerk.
 
They struck a chord deep within her and it radiated throughout her entire body, from the tips of her toes to each individual strand of her hair.

“I understand that,” she agreed quietly, thinking of her own father.

She saw him sneak another glance at her, but she quickly unbuckled her seat belt as a distraction before he could say another word.
 
They arrived at the house a moment later and Adam parked neatly in the roundabout driveway.
 
He cut the engine and cast a look towards the house.

It had a grand entrance, meant to stun.
 
A large stone staircase led up to the front door, which was neatly framed by two columns.
 
A small balcony jutted over the entrance from a second story french door.
 
The architecture was stunning.
 
It reminded her of a picture she’d once seen of a beautiful, elaborate Tuscan villa, but Adam’s childhood home incorporated whimsical stone arches and more windows than she cared to count.

“It’s beautiful,” Christie complimented, tearing her gaze away to look at him.
 
Nerves were starting to get to her.
 
She should’ve picked a dress and curled her hair, at the very least.
 
She hadn’t been expecting this.

“It is,” he agreed, but he made no move to get out of the car.

“Did you enjoy growing up here?” she asked curiously, dragging out the small amount of time they had left.

Adam glanced out his window, towards the rows of grapevines.
 
It couldn’t be their only source of wine grapes.
 
Christie imagined his family owned acres of land.
 
Probably the grapevines across the street too.

In response to her question, he simply said, “Yes.”
 
His tone was almost nostalgic and Christie let a small smile drift over her features.
 
Someday, she’d like to hear his stories.
 
Hopefully soon.
 
But right now wasn’t the best time for that conversation.
 
Adam seemed to realize that too because he unsnapped his belt buckle and told her sheepishly, “We should probably get this over with.”

“It won’t be that bad,” she reassured him.
 
But she wasn’t so sure.
 
Fake it until you make it
, she thought.
 
She could play the poised, confident girlfriend.
 
Not that he’d told his mother that she was his girlfriend, but why not indulge her a bit?

Christie hopped out of the car, smoothing down her skirt.
 
It was a little wrinkled from when she’d climbed onto Adam’s lap, but it couldn’t be helped.
 
She’d do it all over again if she had the choice.

Adam appeared at her side and they started up the steps, her high heels clicking loudly on the stone.
 
Her heart fluttered when Adam touched her lower back.
 
She resisted the urge to arch into him.

“By the way,” he murmured softly.
 
“I didn’t tell you before, but you look beautiful.”

Her step faltered only slightly, hardly noticeable.
 
Heart racing, she snuck a peek up at him.
 
He was looking towards the door, avoiding eye contact, but a little flush colored his cheekbones.

Christie realized that something was wrong with the female population of the Bay Area.
 
How had this man never had a girlfriend?
 
How did women
not
jump his bones in the street?

“Thank you,” she replied, a shy smile appearing.
 
Which was odd.
 
Because Christie was anything but shy.

Before they could make it up the last step, the front door swooshed open and a beautiful, statuesque brunette appeared in the doorway.
 
She was older, but not one wrinkle marred her smooth skin.
 
Her nose looked a bit too upturned and her lips were a bit too full; Christie suspected plastic surgery.
 
It was a common practice, especially among the affluent.
 
The woman’s golden eyes assessed the both of them as a calm, reserved smile appeared on her face.

She was dressed in a conservative lavender dress that hit just below her knees and her hair was intricately twisted up into a bun, small tendrils framing her face.
 
Flawless make-up.
 
Perfectly manicured.
 
The picture of the perfect hostess.

“Mom,” Adam greeted, stepping forward and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“There’s my sweet boy,” she said softly, reaching up to twine her slim arms around his neck.
 
“It feels like so long since I last saw you.”
 
She pulled back and cradled his face in her hands.
 
“Let me look at you.”

Christie bit back a smile when she saw the exasperated look on Adam’s face.

“I just saw you,” he reminded her.
 
“At the Grant’s luncheon a couple weeks ago.”

“You only came for an hour,” his mother protested.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he responded softly.
 
He glanced over his shoulder and beckoned Christie forward.
 
“Mom, this is my friend, Christie.”

“Just a friend?” his mom goaded, to which Adam sighed heavily.

“Mom…” he warned.

Christie smiled and stepped forward.
 
“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Thornton.”

Adam’s mom enveloped her in a friendly hug.
 
Christie caught of a whiff of Chanel No. 5 before they both pulled away.
 
The scent made her throat constrict.
 
It was the same perfume her mother had favored.
 
Although, she’d never been able to afford a bottle.
 
She’d pick up samples from department stores across town and only use it on special occasions to prolong the life of each little vial.

She unconsciously fingered one particular bracelet on her wrist, twirling it round and round.

“My, my, how stunning you are, dear,” Mrs. Thornton complimented, running her eyes over her features, her outfit.
 
She looped her arm through Christie’s and then turned towards the inside of the house, pulling her along.
 
“Come in, come in.
 
Dinner’s just about ready, so we probably don’t have time for appetizers.”

“Sorry we’re late, Mom.
 
We were held up on the highway,” Adam explained, not exactly lying.
 
He pulled the front door shut behind them.

His mom waved her hand, her shell pink nail polish reflecting in the light of the foyer.
 
“Not a problem, dear.
 
Traffic is common at this hour.”

A chandelier hung in the center of the massive entry way.
 
It glittered with every step they took, capturing and releasing light at every angle, shimmering between shades of gold and pink and orange.
 
The floors were a swirled marble, as was the curving staircase that wrapped itself up to the second floor.
 
Paintings hung from the walls and beautiful flower arrangements spilled from every table.

The foyer was so grand that it
echoed
.

It was overwhelming and Christie just wanted to stop walking and
absorb
.

Mrs. Thornton’s hostess radar must have pinged because she turned with a knowing smile on her perfectly lined lips.
 
“Would you like a tour before dinner, dear?”

Christie shook her head and smiled politely.
 
“Maybe after dinner, if the food’s almost ready.”

“Of course.
 
We’ll have more time then anyway.”

“Where’s Dad?” Adam asked, coming to Christie’s side.
 
He was so close that she felt the softness of his sweater on her arm.
 
He was her one anchor for the next couple hours because she felt completely out of her element.
 
There was a strange need to impress his parents.
 
But simply smelling that clean linen scent with the added spice of his cologne…it comforted her.

“He’s meeting with Bennett at the winery.
 
He’ll miss dinner, but he should be back for dessert and drinks.”

Christie didn’t miss the way her voice tightened, even though Mrs. Thornton tried to keep her tone calm.
 
Adam didn’t comment on it either.
 
Instead he asked, “And how is Bennett?
 
I haven’t seen him for a while.”

They were leading her to what she assumed was the dining room.
 
But it was a long trek.
 
They’d passed countless hallways and doors already.
 
And if she wasn’t mistaken, they’d even floated by a huge industrial kitchen where a chef was preparing their dinner.
 
A freakin’
chef
.

“He’s very well,” Mrs. Thornton said, smiling.
 
The terse tone in her voice disappeared.
 
“He’s still convinced that he’s the only one who can run that winery.”

They finally arrived at the dining room.
 
And it was just as breathtaking as Christie imagined it would be.
 
It was situated towards the back of the house, but still sensibly placed near the kitchen.
 
Huge windows let the evening light stream in, showing off a spectacular view.
 
The hills of Napa lay before them, all rich and abundant countryside.
 
Christie envisioned how she would paint this image.
 
Her fingers were already itching for her brushes.