Lupa e Cervo


Nick brought his motorcycle to a stop in the winery’s parking lot.   He took off his helmet, and felt the moisture on his skin evaporate in the dry heat radiating from the yellow stone walls.

He looked around grudgingly.   Lupa e Cervo was certainly a showplace, no question about it.   Christ, even the parking lot offered a fabulous view.

The massive granite blocks that made up the mansion in which the winery was housed were mellowed to a buttery hue, softened by ivy, by bougainvillea, by time.   Endless rows of grapevines surrounded the building.   They curved over the hills in every direction, drawing the eye along with them.  Although Nick knew it was an illusion, the impression that they extended all the way to the ocean which could just barely be seen--a blue smudge far in the distance--was almost irresistible.

And it all belonged to Adam Sasso.  Scout’s stepbrother.   The only family she had left and, for the past six months, a pestiferous pain in Nick’s butt.

©PG Forte 2005
Touch of a Vanished Hand

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