“So you’re not here for a job.”

“No.” She flipped open the portfolio. “I’m here for a loan.”

Nic straightened. “Why? You don’t have a cash-flow problem.”

“Marcelli Wines doesn’t. Business has never been better. But I’m not them. I work for my grandfather. The company still belongs to him.”

“You’ll inherit.”

If only. The truth shouldn’t still hurt, but it did. It hurt a lot. “My sisters and I inheriting has become less of a sure thing.” She paused, knowing that there was no point in holding back. He was going to hear about it eventually.

“It seems my parents had a child out of wedlock, as they say. A son. They were both still in high school. Due to family pressure, they gave up the baby for adoption.”

Nic was cool as always. Instead of letting any emotion show on his face, he leaned back in his chair. “That would change things,” he admitted. “When did you find out?”

“At our big Fourth of July party. It was our version of fireworks, to say the least. The point is, the long-lost baby is now a thirty-year-old man.”

The Marcelli and Giovanni families might not have spoken in nearly three generations, but they had both grown up with the same traditional Italian values. Feminism had yet to arrive at the shores of their respective vineyards. Nic got it right away.

“Your grandfather is old-fashioned enough to be more comfortable leaving the family business to a male heir. I’m guessing the long-lost brother is interested?”

“It’s a ton of money. Wouldn’t you be?” she asked with a lightness she didn’t feel. “All of which leaves me on the short end of the inheritance stick.” Now came the tough part. “I’ve learned that the wine business is in my blood. I don’t want to do anything else with my life.”

“If you’re right and your brother inherits, why wouldn’t he keep you on to run things?”

“He might, but I’m not willing to wait around and see. Besides, I have my own ideas and plans. I want to start my own label.”