California Wine by Casey Dawes Page A

him at the Silver Spur at seven.”
    “Why don’t you two just move in together? That way you could sleep in while he made breakfast.”
    Annie pulled two coffee cups from the cabinet. “He’s old-fashioned. Doesn’t want to live together.”
    Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Has he mentioned marriage?”
    “We’ve only been together five months. Be real. He says we need time to get to know each other — a year at least.”
    “Wow, that is old-fashioned. Are you telling me you haven’t even slept together?”
    Annie grinned, a smile that lit up her pixie face. “He’s not
that
old-fashioned. Thank goodness! So what are you going to do about Marcos?”
    Elizabeth groaned. She’d hoped the subject was closed.
    “He’s coming to California in October to look at some land in Napa, and maybe here in the Santa Cruz Mountains. I tried to convince him not to come.” Elizabeth poured coffee. “But he’s insisting. I guess I’ll figure out what to do then.”
    “I think you’re way over your head with him.”
    “You can say that again.” Elizabeth had to figure out a way to convince him not to come to California.
    “Do you still have that business card I gave you a few months ago? The one for my coach?” Annie asked after she sat on the couch and took a sip of coffee.
    “Sure.” Elizabeth sat at the other end.
Somewhere …
    “Give the coach a call before he comes so you know what your options are. She may be able to help you with your business plans, too.”
    “Maybe.” Elizabeth was doubtful. How could a life coach help with developing a product line?
    After Annie left, Elizabeth walked into her office. The card was where most business cards went — tacked to her bulletin board. She unpinned it and fingered the stiff cardboard. Should she call?
    It was time to take her life into her own hands. It was past time.
    And she definitely needed help with Marcos.
    Flicking on the computer monitor, she pulled up Carol Eos’ web site. She scanned through the woman’s qualifications and credentials. The coach seemed genuine, and she’d done wonders for Annie.
    Before she could chicken out, Elizabeth clicked on the form to make an appointment.
    • • •
    The call from Carol Eos came around nine the next morning while Elizabeth was in the kitchen pouring a second cup of coffee. “I believe I know you,” Carol said after they’d exchanged hellos. “You’re Annie’s friend, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “She told me how supportive you were for her as she went through her own troubles this year. You must be a special friend.”
    “I … I hope so.”
    “Well, you are. Now, how can I help you?”
    Elizabeth paused. Where to begin? She took a deep breath. “I broke up with my boyfriend, my mother died, my daughter is heading off in her own life, I’ve met a great guy, but he lives in Italy. Oh, and I want to produce my own line of products.”
    “All that.”
    “Yeah. All that.” Elizabeth laughed.
    “What would you like to start with?”
    Elizabeth was startled. She’d assumed the coach would lead the discussion. “Um … Marcos, I guess.”
    “Marcos being the Italian?”
    “Yes. I met him while I was over there on vacation. He’s coming here in October.”
    “And you’re afraid.”
    How could the woman tell that over the telephone line? But then Elizabeth realized the coach was right. She
was
afraid. “Yes.”
    “Which are you afraid of — going to bed or falling in love?”
    “Both.” Elizabeth sank into a kitchen chair. The coach didn’t pull any punches.
    “Why are you afraid to take a chance?” Carol asked.
    Elizabeth searched her mind for the answer. “When I was a teenager I took a chance with Joe — my husband. We had sex and I got pregnant. My mother … ” Elizabeth’s stomach began its familiar upheaval.
    “Yes?”
    “She made me feel so ashamed. She told me I’d disgraced the family and it was … it was a good thing we’d never go back to Italy since she