Building Forever Read online

  Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Marina Adair. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original St. Helena Vineyard Series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Marina Adair, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Building Forever

  The Forever Series (Book 1)

  St. Helena Vineyard Kindle World Novella

  Cary Hart

  Cover design by Reina Torres

  Editor: Dani Hall, DMH Editing Services

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the St. Helena Vineyard’s Kindle World, where romance is waiting to be uncorked and authors from around the globe are invited to share their own stories of love and happily ever after. Set in the heart of wine country, this quaint town and its cast of quirky characters were the inspiration behind my St. Helena Vineyard series, and the Hallmark Channel movie, AUTUMN IN THE VINEYARD. I want to thank these incredible authors for spending time in St. Helena, and all of you readers who are adventurous enough to take the journey with us.

  I hope you enjoy your time here as much as we have.

  Warmly,

  Marina Adair

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Links

  To Marina Adair ~

  Thank you for encouraging me

  to write down my ideas. Without you

  I would have never had the confidence

  to explore Colin and Natalie.

  .

  Prologue

  Natalie

  I run my hand over the curves of her body, feeling how smooth she is under my touch. I slowly bring it back up over the slope of her rear end, until I reach her ragged black top. I yank it down with a force I know Betsy needs.

  “God, I love this car,” I murmur to no one.

  Betsy is my 1979 Volkswagen Beetle with a convertible top. School bus yellow, of course. This car has been with me since before I could even drive, and now I’m trusting in her to carry me to the next chapter in my story.

  I just got back to St. Helena after twelve years, a mere pit stop to my final destination. This opportunity in Santa Barbara is going to finally put my career on the fast track to success.

  Lord only knows the last eight years were stolen from me.

  Right here, right now…

  Nat, this is it. Don’t look back, only look to the future.

  This is me, putting the pedal to the metal, literally, and not looking back.

  “Santa Barbara, look out! Natalie Russo is coming at you full speed ahead!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

  This moment… I. Feel. Free! I look into the rearview mirror and see determination reflected. I don’t see the girl I was just forty-eight hours ago. The girl who walked in on her cheating, stealing, lying, bastard of a fiancé (a.k.a. boss) is now gone.

  Actually, I’m kind of relieved. I did love him, but I’m not sure if I loved him for all the right reasons. That doesn’t matter now. That girl is gone on a tank of gas and a heart full of determination.

  I was running away from my family, my past… him. Let’s not go there. I can’t go there. That was then and if I’m going to stick to my plan there is no looking back. Ever!

  Chapter 1

  Natalie

  I have wasted four hours of the drive thinking about what occurred over the last couple of days. Reflecting on where I went wrong.

  I’m over this… time for some mood music!

  Plugging in the adapter for my iPhone, I flip through my playlists on Spotify.

  “Let’s see…What are you in the mood for Betsy? Are you feeling like some old-school?” I giggle knowing what I’m getting ready to play. “Ahhh! Nothing like a little ’80s music.” Carefree and uplifting. Just what I need.

  I switch from my “Hey Sexy Girlfriend” playlist to “Brighter Days.” This should take me through the last two hours of my drive. I’m just going to listen to the music, zone out and enjoy the scenery.

  Living in NYC must have done a number on me. I became accustomed to the fast-paced lifestyle that came with the territory. As soon as I got there I changed my look and my attitude. I knew if I wanted to make partner, I had to leave my Cali carefree attitude behind. I thought I wanted that, I thought I needed that, but looking back, I think I changed more for Evan than for my career.

  “Hooooooooooooooooooonk! Honk! Honk! Honk!”

  Startled, I look up to see a semi coming straight for me. I swerve to the right.

  **********

  Colin

  “I don’t care what it takes! Get it here now!” I scream into the phone and slam it down. This has been a fucking day from hell! Ferris Hampton and his Oakwood deal are going to be the death of me.

  My phone buzzes. “Mr. Palmer, I have New Life Nursery on the phone,” Daisy, our new receptionist, announces over the intercom system.

  “Tell them I’m on the other line,” I reply with such annoyance that even this bohemian bimbo could pick up on it.

  Daisy is a total California wild child. Not so much child, no, definitely not child. Wavy, long, blonde hair, heart-shaped face and a year-round tan. She probably lives in a bikini after-hours. Just the thought has gotten my dick hard on a few occasions, but after a week, I’ve realized she doesn’t have many talents. She is not secretary material and she is not cut out for the corporate world. She should be off hugging trees or taking a hit off a bong somewhere. Not my type. Then again, I’m not even sure if I have a type.

  “Uhhh…Mr. Palmer, you aren’t on the other line,” she states firmly, bringing me back from some place far away.

  Why can’t she just do what she is told?

  “Daisy!” I say sharply, tapping my fingers roughly over the keys as I reply to an email from Plumb Crazy, the local engineering firm from back home.

  Does blondie really not get it? I swear Ferris Hampton hired her more for the sway of her ass and the loose-fitting dresses she wears than for her secretarial skills. Every time she bends over, you catch an eyeful of perky breasts. Again…Ferris Hampton hired her!

  Ferris is the world’s top golf course and luxury resort developer. If it wasn’t for this project I would still be living and breathing Tanner Construction under my friend Jack “The Hammer” Tanner, former NFL Super Bowl Champ, and now president of the Pussy Whipped Club since reconnecting with Abby DeLuca. He was supposed to be the one heading up this project, but love kept him back in St. Helena.

  I held years of resentment toward Abby. She singlehandedly ruined my boy’s chance at a football scholarship to the University of Alabama. Don’t get me wrong; everything worked out, hence the Super Bowl ring. I guess in all reality, I owe this chance to Tanner and Abby. If he wouldn’t have fallen hard, I wouldn’t be here. The possibility of having to leave her made him realize what I really do for Tanner Construction. I have built this company right
along with him. This is our dream that together we made a reality. A dream that could be shattered if I fuck up this job.

  “Fine!” There’s a click and Daisy is gone.

  “Thank God!” I sigh, and run my hand through my hair.

  Buzzzzz. “Mr. Palmer?”

  DAMN IT!

  “Daisy! Can’t you follow simple instructions?” I cut her off.

  “Mr. Palmer, I’m not an idiot. I did what you asked. He has a question about the stone you special-ordered. He said if you don’t talk to him now you can forget about it.”

  “Fine, put him through.” I reply, giving up. I just need a break. Maybe this project is more than I can handle.

  **********

  Natalie

  “Don’t stop believin’…hold on to the feelin’…” I belt out a Journey classic that always makes me feel like anything is possible as I pull into Gamms’ driveway.

  Gamms is my paternal grandmother and the only real connection I have to my father, Nicholas Russo. He has been in and out of my life since I was three years old. My Gamms is what keeps me sane. I didn’t grow up around her, but would always go visit when I needed a break, which was quite often.

  Growing up in St. Helena was torture for me. You see, I was known as “Tricky Nicky’s” girl, the daughter of the guy with a severe drinking and gambling problem. He got the nickname from the multiple ways he learned how to cheat his way to the jackpot. I use to think it was “magic,” but later learned the truth. My dad was nothing but a drinking, gambling liar. He didn’t love his family. If he did he would have stayed. Instead, Nicky left us with nothing. He gambled away our St. Helena land and lost our house in the hills, making us the laughingstock of the entire town.

  My mother, Laura Russo, was the most compassionate woman I knew besides my

  Gamms. She tried hard for years to rebuild what he had broken, but the damage was already done. We couldn’t escape the looks, the whispers. Not only had he ruined our reputation along with our lives, he broke my mom’s spirit. She was never the same. Mom loved me with everything she had left. Of course, blaming my dad would be easy, it’s somewhat even the truth, but if I wouldn’t have been so weak, she would have had the fight to live. Instead, cancer won.

  “You stupid Cocksucker! Get out of my tulips!” Gamms’ voice pulls me from the past back to where I want to be.

  “Gamms! I thought Dum-Dum died?” I refuse to call her rooster Cocksucker. Seriously, who does that?

  “Nat, Cocksucker Sr. passed away a couple months ago. God rest his soul…” She trails off in thought. Who knows of what? Maybe of “Senior” pecking the crotch of all Gamms’ elderly friends who have passed? I just want to scream “HE! IS! A ROOSTER!” but to her he is family.

  “Gamms, if he passed away a couple months ago then who is this fine young…” “COCK,” she interrupts.

  “NO! Gamms… just NO! I was going to say rooster.”

  “Honey, do you have a problem with cocks? Maybe if you found yourself a cock

  you wouldn’t be on edge.” She smirks. She really freakin’ smirks. This is what she does to me. Always trying to bring me out of my comfort zone and let loose.

  “Gamms, stop saying COCK!” I stress the word she has been trying to get me to say since I rounded the flower bed.

  She giggles. Scratch that, it’s more of a snaughling. You know, the kind where you laugh so hard you snort, then laugh because you snorted. Giggling is delicate and Gamms is nothing of the sort.

  “Oh my dear, Natalie, where is your sense of humor? Meet Douche.” She points down at the rooster pecking at my feet.

  “Douche? Gamms do I need to call in the doctor with the white coat?” I pretend to look through the contacts on my phone.

  “Honey, I may be old, but I’m not senile. Douche is what I call Cocksucker Part Douche for short. If I were to call him by his whole name it would be a mouthful, don’t you think?” She winks.

  “I think you mean Part Deux?”

  “That’s what I said, dear.” She gives me her irritatingly smug, you’re-not-going-to-win-this-battle smile.

  “Okay, Gamms. I believe you. I’m going inside to clean up and get ready for dinner.” I’m feeling a little windblown and dusty from having the top down on Betsy, I think a long, hot shower is in order. “But you did say Douche,” I whisper to myself when I’m out of earshot.

  “Dear, haven’t lost my hearing… it’s just selective. Huge difference. Now go take a hot shower. I got a new shower head I’m sure you will love to try out.”

  **********

  Gamms was right, the shower was the cleansing I needed. Not just physical, but mental as well. Stepping out, water dripping down my body, I take a look in the mirror. Swiping the condensation off, I fully see the person I’ve become. Closed off from all my family and friends, well, friend. I thought I was building my future, instead I was demolishing who I was.

  Alone. That is how I feel. Empty and alone. Total, complete numbness. The past forty-eight hours have been a hurricane of emotions that my barricade of walls couldn’t ward off. I’ve been destroyed. There is no way of rebuilding after this.

  I thought growing up in St. Helena was hard. The hushed whispers and silent stares, and that was just by the adults. The kids…they tormented me. I was made fun of from the moment I stepped out of the house.

  Fire engine hair, wide, bright emerald eyes, and fair, freckled skin. You could say I don’t fit the typical Italian image. Hence, reason numero uno I was teased. Of course I had to be adopted, right?

  That was a rumor I believed for about an hour until I was reminded I was a mirror image of my Gammy Russo. Poppy Russo was full-blooded Italian who married a sassy American redhead.

  The resemblance is uncanny, really. So much so, they named me after her. My Ma wanted to name me Isabella, but once I was born, I was deemed Natalie Isabella Russo.

  “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like, it’s better than yours…” Kelis’ oh-so-familiar song plays from the bedroom. Hurrying, I wrap the towel around my body, shielding my naked form, just in case Gamms comes waltzing in unannounced.

  This has happened on more than one occasion. Her walking in, making crude comments about everything I feel insecure about. “Nat, look at you! You need to learn to shake what your mama gave you. Let me show you how it’s done.” Throwing her hands in the air she starts to sing, “Push it, push it real good.” Gyrating to the music, thrusting her hips back and forth. “Get up on that D…” “GAMMS! NO! Just no!” me, shouting with embarrassment.

  “Damn right it’s better than yours. I could teach you, but I would have to charge.”

  “Oh. My. God. She didn’t!” I smile as I search for my cell phone. Scrambling around, I remember it’s on top of my suitcase. Reaching for it, I answer with a breathy hello.

  “Well, well…she does live. I was beginning to wonder if you were ignoring me.” Lexi sounds irritated. She must be at her shop; I can hear pans slamming against the counter.

  “Lexi, I am so, so sorry. I put my phone on do not disturb mode and just sailed here. I was in a music coma and didn’t want to be interrupted.” I hear mumbling from her end, something about cream filling and last night. She almost sounds frantic. “Lex, after the past forty-eight hours, I just needed to zone.”

  “Nat, I have been calling for the past four hours and sent twenty messages for you to call me ASAP.”

  Looking down I notice the missed calls and texts. Wincing, I try to figure out what to say. “I’m sorry. I just…”

  “I know. It’s fine. I found out something that I thought you needed to know before you started your job. I couldn’t just let you walk in there not knowing that Col…” Lex screams and drops the phone. A moment of panic flows throw my system before I hear Marco in the background, and then a lot of back and forth between them. I can’t make out anything they are saying now. Her giggles are the only thing present.

  “Nat, Lexi has to call you back later,” Mar
co growls. Then moans.

  “Ummm…OK?”

  “Good Luck Monday. You’ll neeeeeeeed it.” Marco draws out and then ends the call. Staring at my phone, I wonder what just happened.

  “Nat…” Gamms calls as she skips down the hall. “Is there a house party up in here?” The door swings open. “I thought I heard my jam?” She pauses, taking in my appearance. Slowly a smile tugs up at the corner of my lips, remembering the flashback from a few minutes ago. She mirrors my expression with a sparkle in her eye. “I do believe I’ve just had a de-ja-vu moment…” Her mind appears to drift. “Any who, love, dinner’s ready.”

  Chapter 2

  Natalie

  “Girl, who needs Dr. 90210 when you have all this…” Dante, the makeup artist from MAC, is waving his hand around like he is one of Barker’s Beauties from “The Price is Right.” “…at your fingertips?”

  Talking with Gamms last night during dinner gave me the confidence I needed to go out and find who I am, to discover a new me. A me, Gamms says, I have lost being in the Big Apple. Or as she calls it, “The City of Darkened Souls.”

  “Get some light back in those eyes, Nat! That city and that fiancé of yours made you forget who you are. Tomorrow, I want you to get a makeover and as JT says, ‘Bring that sassy back.’”

  “Gamms, JT sang ‘Sexy Back.’”

  “Sexy back, sassy back, same difference. Speaking of sexy, you need to take all that…” She swirls her finger in the air like she is my fairy godmother working her magic “…to Fredrick’s or Victoria’s and get you some sexy.” She turns me around to assess my body, and when she finally stops I can tell some kind of crazy is going to come out of her mouth. “I got it!” She points in the air with excitement. I never understood that. It’s like the finger is pulling the cord to some magical light bulb hovering over your head. “THONG!” One word. She says it like it’s a magical cure-all.