The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
that it was nice to get away from the stress of the wedding pitch. The whole project had ground to a complete halt. He sure hoped this outing would refill his creative well. If nothing else, maybe it would help him relax so he could start brainstorming again.
He glanced over to find Kayla taking in their surroundings. “I thought we would walk since the village isn’t far from here.”
“Sounds fine by me. I’ve been cooped up in the hotel long enough. Back in New York, I’m used to doing a lot of walking.”
“Really. Where do you walk?” He didn’t know why but he was truly interested.
“I walk to the subway and then to the office. Sometimes, if the weather is right, I will duck out at lunch and stretch my legs.”
“So you truly like to walk.”
She nodded. “It sure beats eating like a bird. If you hadn’t noticed, I do enjoy food.” She rubbed her flat abs. “Especially pasta.”
“Would you like to try some of the best Italian food in the region?”
“Definitely.”
“Good. From what I’ve heard, you should be impressed with the restaurant I’ve chosen.”
“Is it far from here?”
“Not at all. In fact, it’s right here in Monte Calanetti. We have reservations for tomorrow night.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Good. Consider it a date.”
When her fine brows rose and her eyes glittered with unspoken questions, he realized he’d blundered. But he didn’t take back the words. He liked the thought of having a friendly date with her.
They walked a bit before Kayla spoke. “What’s it called?”
“Mancini’s. It’s an exclusive IGF-starred restaurant on the outskirts of the village. The chef is a friend of my brother’s.”
“This friend of your brother’s, is he from around here?”
“Yes, he grew up here. After Raffaele achieved international success with his cooking, he returned to open his own restaurant. I suspect he was anxious to try running his own place, but I’m surprised he didn’t start his business in one of the cities like Rome or Milan.”
“Perhaps he just wanted to be home again. Have you really never considered moving back here?”
Angelo gave a firm shake of head. “Not even once.”
“Don’t you like it here?”
“It...it has a lot of memories. Not all of them good ones.”
Angelo remembered how he’d been turned away from his home and told not to return. The buried memories came flooding back to him. The loud arguments between his parents. His brother and sister upset. And then there was the last time he came to his mother’s defense. He’d experienced many a row with his father before that life-altering one—the one where his father threw him out of the house, telling him that he was old enough to make it on his own.
When Angelo had turned a pleading stare to his mother, she’d told him that he was a smart, strong young man and that it was time to make his way in life. That was when he’d had no choice but to follow his dreams. With the aid of his inheritance from his grandfather combined with his meager savings, he’d set out for New York.
Though he hated to leave his brother and sister, he didn’t have a choice. His father was a stubborn man who wouldn’t back down from an argument. And Angelo wasn’t about to live any longer with his parents and their dysfunctional relationship. In fact, he hadn’t even come back to Monte Calanetti to visit until his mother and father had moved to Milan. He had no intention of seeing his father again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Kayla’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “What? Um...oh, you didn’t.”
She sent him an I-don’t-believe-you look but said nothing more. They continued toward the village in silence. It felt so strange to be back here—when he’d left all of those years ago, he’d sworn that he’d never return. And he hadn’t for a long time.
The truth was he missed his brother and sister. But he rarely made the journey home. It was too hard. There were too many unsettling memories lurking about, and he just didn’t have the same draw to this place that his brother and sister did. He didn’t understand Nico’s need to cling to their heritage, not when there were so many adventures outside of Monte Calanetti to experience.
“This is beautiful.” Kayla stood at the crumbling rock wall that surrounded the village, which was perched high upon a hill. “What an amazing view. What’s with the wall?”
“The village is centuries old and used to be a stronghold against attacks.”
“I couldn’t imagine there being unrest here. I mean, did you ever see anything so peaceful?” There was a distinct note of awe in Kayla’s voice. “There’s something almost magical about it.”
“I used to think that, too.”
“You did?”
He nodded, recalling days of long ago. “I used to come to this spot when I was a kid.” What he failed to mention is that he came here to get away from his parents’ arguing. “I’d pretend that I was the defender of the kingdom. Many sword battles took place where you’re standing.”
“Really? So you were Sir Lancelot?” She eyed him up as though imagining him in a coat of armor.
He was no knight—not even close to it. He’d just been a kid trying to escape the battlefield between his parents, but he didn’t want to get into any of that. A gentle breeze rushed past them and he willed it to sweep away the unsettling memories. He didn’t want the past to ruin this day.
“Look.” She pointed to a flock of little birds as they took flight. They soared up into the sky, circled and swooped low before rising again. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
He was never a bird-watcher, but he had to admire the symmetry of their movements. He couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d been missing. His gaze strayed back to Kayla. How had he missed noticing how amazing she was both inside and out?
“And listen.”
He did as she asked. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly! There’s nothing but the rustle of the leaves. It’s so freeing.”
Now that he could agree on. He’d been searching for quietness like this ever since he’d moved to New York, but he’d never been able to find it—until now. “It clears the mind.”
“Good. We want clear heads when we tour Monte Calanetti.” She turned and pointed off in the distance. “I just love the rows of grapevines. I wonder how they get the lines so straight.”
“I’m betting if you were to ask Nico that he’d tell you anything you want to know about running a vineyard. He’s very proud of his work.”
“You mean all of that is Nico’s land?”
Angelo nodded. “It has been passed down through the family. When my father couldn’t make a go of it, they passed the land down to us kids. I was already working in New York and Marianna was too young, so Nico stepped up. He’s worked really hard to rebuild the vineyard and make a name for the wine.”
“Hardworking must be a trait of the Amatucci men.”
“Some of them anyhow.” His father wasn’t big on work, which was evident by the poor condition of the vineyard when he’d handed it over to his children. “Come on. I thought you wanted to see Monte Calanetti.”
“I do.”
With Kayla’s hand still tucked in the crook of his arm,