Love in the Vineyard (Tavonesi #7)(52)

She started shoveling the new soil into a wheelbarrow.

“Hey, Natasha,” Tammy said as she walked up behind her. “Meet your new assistant. This is Enrique.”

Enrique was working for her?

“I heard from the grapevine that you were starting today.” She offered her hand. “Thanks again for helping me move last week.”

Tammy elbowed her. “Pun intended, right?”

Natasha had never understood the concept of puns.

“Looks like you could use a hand,” Enrique said.

“I’ll leave you two to it. Oh… Adrian’s cousin Alana is coming by. You’re not the only person in the county obsessed with butterflies and bees.”

Natasha put Enrique to work shoveling the soil into the boxes. With him helping, she could focus on the planting. But as she began to tease the transplants apart, the door to the kitchen banged open and a woman with tanned legs and a broad-brimmed hat walked out, followed by a stunningly beautiful woman in high-heeled designer sandals. Natasha recognized her from the day she’d gone to Tyler’s ballgame at Trovare but couldn’t recall her name. Adrian’s sister Coco took up the rear of the procession. There must be something in the water that created such beauties. Or the genes. Yeah, it was the genes. All three women had broad smiles like Adrian’s. He should smile more often. She should stop thinking about him so often.

The tallest of the women, the one she recognized from the ballgame, marched over.

“I’m Adrian’s cousin Alana,” she said with an airy confidence Natasha already envied. “You must be Natasha.”

“Hello.” Beauty sometimes made Natasha speechless.

“Natasha’s done amazing things here already,” Coco said. “Just look at these.” She fingered a buddleia. “What are these?”

The third woman looked up from under the brim of her hat. If Natasha hadn’t known better, she’d have thought she was hallucinating. The woman looked exactly like Coco. She smiled the warm, charming smile that Natasha was beginning to recognize as a Tavonesi trait.

“I’m Anastasia. They usually keep me locked in a tower in the back.”

Alana laughed. Coco didn’t.

“She knows precisely nothing about plants,” Coco said in her bright Italian accent. “Do not take any advice from her.”

Natasha heard Adrian’s inflection in his sisters’ voices. And really, really didn’t want a simple cadence and a familiar accent to stir up longing in her. But her body had a mind of its own, and the longing stretched out into full-blown yearning for the man who’d sneaked under her guard.

“And neither do you,” Alana said with a good-natured wink. “These two are photographing my native plants for a book I’m putting together.” She patted a portfolio she held. “I’d like your advice, if you can spare the time. And I’d like to get some starts of the native purple lupine from you. Adrian said you had some going. They’re hard to find and even harder to keep alive.”

That Adrian remembered the comment she’d made about her plans for the native garden and the starts she had already managed to get going astonished her.

Natasha wiped her hands on her jeans. “I’d be happy to help, but I’m not an expert.”

“According to my very picky brother, you are,” Anastasia said.

“Let’s go up to my photography studio,” Coco said. “I have snacks, and we can discuss the photos in comfort.”

Natasha gave a few instructions to Enrique. She’d been aware of him staring at the group of women, but no one could blame him. It was as though models from a runway show had been airdropped into the Casa’s kitchen garden.

She followed the troupe of beauties up a path to a two-story cottage-like building nestled among oaks and bordered by a small stream. Alana navigated the rough path in her high-heeled sandals with a deftness Natasha couldn’t imagine managing. Even in her sturdy work boots, she had to pay attention so she didn’t stumble.

Coco’s studio was like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Cream-colored walls and huge picture windows made the most of the stunning Sonoma light. Equipment of all sorts was positioned around the room. Light towers, cameras on tripods and draped cloths made the room look like it was waiting for a pageant to materialize.

“Oh, this guy is hot!” Alana said as she surveyed a row of photos spread on a counter near a large computer screen. She turned to Coco. “You’ve been holding out on us.” She held up a photo of a shirtless man with a length of fire hose draped over one shoulder and a helmet tucked under his arm. The bronzed, perfectly ripped muscles of his torso and his flashy white smile made him look like a god ready to rush out and save the world.

“Those are just studies. Wait till you see the real thing. I’m doing my first real shoot next week.” She frowned. “If Alex wasn’t such a retrogrado, I’d have the guys from the team posing.”

“He’s a realist,” Anastasia said. “You should take Zoe’s practical advice and look for other models. Men who aren’t so famous.”

“Fame sells,” Alana said as she replaced the photo on the counter. “I agree with Coco. If this calendar is to raise buckets of money to fund the Inspire programs, she’ll need men who are in the spotlight.”