Beth Andrews - Feels Like Home

“There’s no way Connie can tackle this job on her own,” Diane continued. “Besides, with her helping Matt manage the vineyards, her time is limited.”

“There’s no need for her to help Matt,” Aidan said as he refreshed his coffee. “He’s more than capable of running things on his own.”

“Keeping Connie from those vineyards is like trying to stop the rain from falling. She loves them.”

“Then I guess you should’ve thought of that before you blackmailed Matt into joining the company.”

“I did,” she said, regret making her voice sharp.

Of course she’d thought of Connie. She’d worried that her decision would push the woman she loved like a daughter out of her life, but in the end, she couldn’t come up with any other way to guarantee all three of her sons returned to the Diamond Dust.

And then two days ago Aidan had offered Connie the job of events coordinator. Eventually, she would learn how to be the best events coordinator ever, Diane was certain of that, and it would ensure she’d always have a place at the winery. To everyone’s shock, she’d not only declined the offer, but had quit her job at the Diamond Dust.

Fortunately, Matt had been able to convince her to stay. And to give him a chance to be in her and her two young daughters’ lives.

Which was wonderful, especially considering that Diane suspected Matt had been the real reason Connie had quit in the first place.

But that didn’t change the fact that their events coordinator knew more about grapes than caterers.

Diane stood and crossed to the sink to rinse out her cup before putting it in the dishwasher, her movements jerky. Aidan was angry. She understood that, accepted it. Just as she’d accept the consequences of her actions, of the mistakes she’d made. One of those being that if things didn’t work out the way she wanted them to, he might never forgive her.

She shut the dishwasher door with more force than necessary. That was a chance she was willing to take, alienating her son. Alienating another son, since Matt still hadn’t fully forgiven her for forcing him to be a part of the business.

“As much as you may not like it,” she said, “Yvonne is the best person for this temporary job. I wouldn’t have hired her if I didn’t truly believe that.”

“She showed me her contract, the agreement you made with her on behalf of the Diamond Dust.” He set his still full cup on the counter and crossed his arms. “I want you to break it.”

Drying her hands on a tea towel, Diane slowly faced him. “I can’t do that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both. I’ve never gone back on my word and I certainly don’t plan to start now. Besides, that contract isn’t only between me and Yvonne, it’s between the Diamond Dust and World Class Weddings, and the last thing we need is another breach of contract lawsuit.”

“We wouldn’t have to deal with any lawsuits if you hadn’t forced Matt to break his contract with Queen’s Valley. Nice that you never have to go back on your word, but you have no problem asking your sons to.”

Okay, she deserved that. Queens’ Valley being the vineyard in South Australia where Matt had been working until three weeks ago. And a lawsuit was a small price to pay for her getting what she wanted.

She laid a hand on his arm. It was a testament to his love and respect for her that he didn’t pull away. “I realize this isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s only temporary. Surely you can put aside your own personal feelings and do what’s best for the Diamond Dust?”

Under her fingers, the muscles in his arm tensed. “Don’t I always?”

Yes. Yes, he did. And that was the problem. His rigid sense of responsibility and loyalty to his family and the winery had cost him his marriage. Now she would use those same traits to push him and Yvonne back together. The rest was up to them.

“Everything will work out,” she promised, patting his arm. “You’ll see.”

He paced to the table, muttered under his breath, then whirled back to her. “You’re playing matchmaker.”

Since there was no use in denying it, she shrugged. “You and Yvonne were meant to be together.”

“We were married,” he snapped. “It ended. It wasn’t some great tragic love story. It was a mistake. One I’ve been over for a long time now.”

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t have done this.”

He nodded once, his mouth a thin, angry line. “When you pulled that stunt with Matt, threatening to sell the business unless he agreed to go into a partnership with us, I thought it was a shitty thing to do—”

“Yes, as I recall, you made your feelings about my decision quite clear.”

“Even though I didn’t agree with you, I stood by you. But there’s no way I’m going to let you control my life. Not like you did to Matt. And just for the record, I don’t like being manipulated.”

“Of course not, dear,” Diane said, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “No one does.”

He stormed out the French doors to the backyard. But unlike Matt, who would’ve slammed the door shut, Aidan barely made a sound when he left.

He’d always been that way, Diane thought as she wet a dishcloth and wrung the excess water from it, her hands shaking. Even as a child Aidan had been in control of his emotions. Couldn’t he see she wasn’t trying to hurt him?

Slapping the cloth down, she scrubbed the already shining counter. She’d seen how crushed he’d been when his marriage fell apart. He’d never gotten over that failure or the woman he’d loved.

Now he could correct his mistakes, give Yvonne a chance to correct hers, as well. And yes, maybe they’d even find love again thanks to what Aidan saw as Diane’s meddling.

She’d brought Matt back, reminded him what it was like to be a part of his family after spending so many years on his own. To be accepted and wanted and welcomed by them. To be a part of his heritage.

It’d been easier with Brady. Her middle son had been so lost. Hurting too much, drinking to numb the pain. Wrapped up in his isolation. She’d given him the choice of either accepting help or moving off the Diamond Dust. Though she wasn’t foolish or arrogant enough to believe her ultimatum had been the impetus Brady needed to turn his life around, she’d take her victories wherever she could get them.

Life was too short not to.

“HELLO, MS. DELISLE,” a woman said in a voice heavily laced with the deep South, when Yvonne answered her cell phone that afternoon. “Your father would like to speak with you. Please hold.” Must be her dad’s new assistant.

There was a soft click, then classical music floated through the speaker—Mendelssohn’s “Spring Song,” if she wasn’t mistaken. Yvonne tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear and picked up two of her suitcases. She carried them down a short hallway, past the tiny kitchen where she’d dumped her work binders, folders, inspiration boards and laptop on the table, to the bedroom at the back of the cottage.

Her temporary home sat deep in the woods, a good mile from the Sheppards’ main house. It was small and sparsely furnished, but she didn’t need much. As long as it had a bed, a closet, a shower and a TV with working cable, she’d be fine.

In the bedroom, she hefted the bags onto the double bed. She was staying whether Aidan liked it or not. Though she’d been tempted to give in to his demands, she hadn’t. Hadn’t given up her own wants to please him.

Not like she used to.

Her movements brisk, she flipped the lid of the larger case open. And he’d been so…shocked. As if the idea of her having the brains—or the backbone—to stand up for herself had never occurred to him.

Arrogant, stubborn man.