Educating Gina by Debbi Rawlins Page A

get back.”
    His attitude wounded her. “I know many things about the business.”
    He gave her an odd look. “Probably more than me. What made you say that?”
    “You are overworked, yet you do not want my help.”
    “It’s not that. You’re on vacation. This is probably your last fling before you start work.”
    “Me start work?”
    “When you get back to Italy.”
    She frowned. It was an odd thing for him to say.
    “I assume you’ll be working at the home office in Tuscany.” He shrugged, but his eyes were watchful. “Maybe you plan on working at the Paris or Rome office.”
    She stared back at him, wondering if he was trying to make a joke. If so, she did not understand. Women in her family did not work in the business. They married and made babies. Just as they all expected her to do.
    The phone rang again, and Mike muttered a word she had not heard before. He started to reach for the receiver and then stopped. “I’ll let it go to voice mail.”
    “But it may be business.” Guilt cut into her. He was neglecting his work for her. “It might be important.”
    He laughed. “Are you sure you’re related to Robert?”
    “Scusi?”
    “Never mind. It was a bad joke.” He grabbed the phone but was only on for seconds.
    “Is something wrong?” Gina asked when he hung up and grunted with impatience.
    “One of our distributors is here to see me.” He threw up his hands. “Just a few more minutes, okay?”
    “No sweat.” She had heard him use the phrase a couple of times.
    The corners of his mouth twitched. “Be careful what you repeat. Do you want to wait in your uncle’s office or maybe in the kitchen area?”
    “Oh.” She wanted to listen to him talk some more, but she stood, realizing it would not be proper for her to be present during a business meeting. “I have not spent time with Zio Augie yet. I will find him.”
    “I’m sorry about this, Gina.”
    “This is business, Mike.” She stopped at his door and gave him a reassuring smile. “I understand.”
    “I’d make the guy wait since he doesn’t have an appointment, but he’s thinking about giving up the truck space of our wine for more Mondavi stock.”
    She gasped, appalled at the idea. “Our grapes are far superior. Why would—”
    Mike cleared his throat and focused on the doorway behind her. “George, good to see you.”
    Gina turned around to find a man approaching. Shorter than Mike and maybe a little older, he had a dark bushy mustache and small black eyes.
    “Glad I caught you, Mason.” He eyed Gina with curiosity as he shook Mike’s hand. “You going on vacation?”
    Mike glanced down at his jeans and red polo shirt. “Nah, I’m headed out for the day. I have an out-of-town guest.” He gestured to Gina. “This is Gina Ferraro, Antonio’s niece. This is George Zacharias.”
    The man took Gina’s hand, and the firm shake she gave put surprise in his eyes. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Zacharias.”
    “It’s George, please. So, you’re from Italy?”
    “ Si. Tuscany, where we have the finest grapes in the country.”
    George gave her an amused, rather patronizing look that made her want to scratch something. “Yes, you make some fine wine.”
    “Our merlots cannot be surpassed.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Even for a grape that has been overplanted and overproduced. We are very careful about our selections. Our merlots are very reliable grapes.”
    Mike watched, fascinated, as Gina described their cabernet sauvignon, and how they had become so well respected that more of their wine was being sold en primeur, or as futures, when collectors or merchants agree on a price before it is bottled.
    She was a natural at selling. Not just because she looked like a million bucks in her new jeans and clingy T-shirt, but because her passion for wine was genuine. But that Gina looked like sin in jeans did nothing for George, who never hid the fact that he was gay. Still, Mike could tell he was impressed. Oh,