‘Right.’ Zia smiled to see the brothers support one another even though they’d found themselves on opposite sides of a fence. She asked Emiliano, ‘So you’ve already seen your post-takeover contract?’

Emiliano frowned, returning sharply, ‘Not yet. You’re saying I should be asking to see it?’

She flushed. ‘It’s not my place to say.’ On the other hand, she had a little knowledge and it might be wrong not to share it. ‘When large organisations acquire small ones it’s common for key personnel to be kept on to smooth the transition. It’s just—’ she hesitated but then decided to plunge on ‘—there might be a minimum term. Your contract should stipulate that.’

Emiliano looked thrown. ‘How long they have to keep me, you mean?’ He paused, probably absorbing, as Zia had hoped he would, that being kept on didn’t mean indefinitely. ‘I suppose the detail comes later.’ Then, as if defending his position, he added, ‘It’s the only deal on offer, you see.’

Zia furrowed her brow. ‘Piero mentioned that. It seems odd, doesn’t it? Was your agent’s plan to market directly to other larger growers and producers?’ It felt good to stretch her business muscles. She’d packed them away upon redundancy.

Piero rubbed his jaw, a mannerism Zia already recognised as meaning he was thinking. ‘I’ve been too busy to ask these questions. You’re making us look naive about business.’

‘I don’t mean to,’ she said swiftly. ‘But big companies aren’t like family businesses.’

Emiliano began to gather up the empty glasses.

‘Thanks for the gorgeous wine,’ Zia said to him, wanting to lighten the mood. ‘And for the personal tour. It was fascinating.’

But even as Emiliano made to reply Piero exclaimed, ‘Shit!’ He glared at his laptop screen and then switched that glare to his brother, whose eyes widened apprehensively. ‘I can see why you didn’t want me to see this email from Alberto Gubbiotti until Monday.’ He turned to Zia, expression tight. ‘Now we’ve questioned the right of way, Binotto’s has abandoned that leverage and want to go ahead with the vineyard and my land without Bella Vista.’

‘Oh …’ she said, seeing instantly that this wasn’t good news for Piero.

Emiliano confirmed her thoughts. ‘Graziella’s delighted. She says you’ve been hiding behind the pretext of protecting your friends and you can’t do that any longer.’ He lifted his hands, still full of glasses, in a resigned gesture.

‘I can fucking imagine,’ said Piero savagely, snapping his laptop shut. ‘And what does Papà say?’

With a dark flush, Emiliano mumbled, ‘He says perhaps we should seize the day.’

Piero swore again. ‘I’ll just bet. This move has called to his impetuous and opportunistic instincts.’