No Ordinary Fortune. Judy Duarte

be held at the winery. We’re sending a bus to provide them with transportation to and from the hotel. Then, after they have a tasting of our best vintages, we’ll serve them dinner.”

      “Sounds like an exciting evening for a group I’d expect to be a little dull and boring in real life.”

      Carlo laughed. “Leave it to a party girl to make that assumption.”

      She gave a little shrug, followed by a playful wink.

      “Actually,” he said, “a lot of thought goes behind my invitation for a special tasting. Those executives all live in various parts of the country, so I figure they’ll order several cases each and share it with their friends when they get home. It’s a good way to get the wine into the hands of consumers outside Texas.”

      “I like the way you think.”

      “Hey, when you have a good product or business, the best promotion is word of mouth.”

      “Looks like you’ve thought of everything.”

      “I try to.” He leaned back in his chair and lifted his glass. Yet he found his dinner companion more tempting than his favorite Mendoza wine.

      Damn, she was pretty. Carlo prided himself on his strength and character, but God help a weak man who found himself attracted to her.

      “Is your tasting room open daily—or just by special request?”

      “We’re open in the afternoons, and we have a host who handles the regular tastings for us. He also works at La Viña in the evenings, so I’d prefer to use someone else during our special events.”

      “So that’s where I come in.”

      “Exactly. And as part of your pay, I’ll do whatever I can to help you be that fly on the wall with the Fortunes.”

      “I’d really appreciate that.” Her eyes were an interesting and unusual shade of blue. They also were assessing him just as carefully as he’d studied her moments ago.

      “I’m not blowing smoke,” he said. “There’s going to be a Valentine’s Day party at the Mendoza Winery on the fourteenth, and a lot of the Fortunes will be there. You can be the hostess that night and ‘work’ the room.”

      Her smile practically lit the entire restaurant, extinguishing the need for the votives on the table. “That would be great, Carlo. You won’t be sorry. I’ll be professional and discreet.”

      He hoped she was right, and that his belief in her hadn’t been unfounded. After reaching into the pocket of his sports jacket, he pulled out his business card and handed it to her. “In the meantime, why don’t you stop by the winery tomorrow morning. I’ll give you a personal tour.”

      “I’d like that.”

      Interestingly enough, Carlo would, too.

      * * *

      Bright and early the next day, while Schuyler was sound asleep in her suite at the Monarch Hotel, the alarm went off.

      Normally, she hated wake-up calls or sticking to a schedule. But not this morning. Without a grumble or even a yawn, she threw off the covers, rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

      She stopped long enough to glance in the mirror, expecting to see her hair a sleep-tousled mess, but it didn’t look all that bad. That in itself was a surprise, but even more so was the smile that stretched across her face. She’d always had a natural effervescence, but it didn’t usually begin to surface until after her first cup of coffee. But then again, today was different. Her wish was about to come true. In less than two weeks, she was going to be face-to-face with some of the Fortunes.

      How cool was that?

      Yet there was something else giving her reason to celebrate. She was going to see Carlo again.

      Dinner last night had not only been delicious and filling, it had been...well, interesting—to say the least. It had also bordered on romantic.

      As a rule, she steered clear of men who might want a serious relationship with her. She didn’t need any more people trying to pressure her into conforming to their expectations. But she suspected that Carlo was different.

      For that reason, before turning in last night, she’d set the alarm on her smartphone to give her plenty of time to get ready.

      An hour later she was driving out to the winery and following the directions Carlo had given her. After turning into the driveway, she couldn’t help easing her foot from the accelerator and slowing down to take in the acres of grapevines growing in the Hill Country.

      Another storm had passed through during the night, drenching the area in rain. But after watering the plants and flora, as well as cleansing the air and leaves, it had passed through and the sky was now clear and blue.

      It was certainly pretty here in the country. Schuyler had always been a city girl, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy breathing in fresh air and watching the sun set over rolling hills and greenery. Not that she’d be invited to stay at the winery that long, although she’d be up for extending her visit.

      She’d no more than parked and shut off the ignition when Carlo came out to meet her. If she’d thought he looked handsome last night, he was even more striking today in khaki slacks and a white cotton shirt—button-down, crisply pressed. Definitely not a Texas cowboy. More like a tall, dark Miami Beach hottie.

      “Welcome to the Mendoza Winery,” he said.

      She left her purse, a big black Chanel she’d filled to the brim with various items she might need at any given moment, and locked the doors. Then she placed the keys in the front pocket of her jeans and greeted him with a handshake. The formality wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to touch him again, and a hug didn’t seem appropriate. Maybe she’d offer him one when she left.

      “What do you think of the place so far?” he asked.

      “It’s impressive. You’d never know that your cousin bought it recently. It’s been so well cared for that you’d think your family has owned it for years.”

      “It was in the Daily family for generations, and Alejandro purchased it from them.”

      “Either way, the grounds are beautiful.”

      “Thanks. It’s been a team effort. Actually, it still is. We’re going to expand more so we can offer it as a venue for parties and weddings. Come on. I’ll give you that tour, starting with the sculpture garden around the back.”

      Schuyler fell into step beside Carlo. In addition to taking in the lovely grounds, she couldn’t help breathing in his alluring, ocean-fresh scent and losing focus. As they turned the corner and she spotted the sculpture garden, she realized why he thought the setting would be perfect for weddings or special events.

      “This is amazing.” She scanned the rose garden, and the manicured lawn that had been adorned with several large sculptures.

      “We’re going to plant more flowers,” he said. “And we’ve ordered a Spanish-tiled fountain, which a local artisan is going to create. The stone sculptures were already here—and permanent. But we’re going to bring in other outdoor art pieces and rotate them.”

      “That ought to be a nice touch.” She stopped to admire the statue of a cavalry officer mounted on a horse. “This is pretty cool.”

      “I think so, too.”

      She circled to the front of the horse and placed her hand on its nose, stroking it as if the animal was real. Then she looked at Carlo and grinned.

      “Come on. I’ll show you the tasting room next.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. Her spine tingled at his touch, an electrifying flash that shot through her like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. Her legs wobbled, and she nearly stumbled before making a quick recovery.

      If Carlo noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead, they crossed the garden,