24. Vines of Passion
Caleb battles the ghosts of his past to carve out a peaceful future for himself and Naomi.
( Hours Earlier)
CALEB
As we walked through the sprawling vineyards, Dorien took in the expanse with a mixture of awe and skepticism.
"I can’t believe you’re taking over your family’s winery, settling down in your hometown, Napa Valley," he said, his eyes scanning the rows of vines. "You sure this is for you, international playboy? Tech God!" His tone was light yet teasing.
I paused, letting my gaze wander over the sprawling property. Rows of meticulously tended vines stretched across rolling hills, their leaves shimmering under the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Ancient oaks dotted the landscape, their massive branches casting long shadows that danced gently in the breeze. The air was rich with the scent of ripe grapes and earth, a testament to decades of care and cultivation.
As I spun slowly, absorbing the picturesque scene that had been my grandfather’s dream, passed down through generations, I felt a profound connection to this land. My life had been a whirlwind of global travel, tinkering with gadgets, and fleeting encounters with some beautiful women following my divorce. But returning to this serene vista, to the legacy of vines and the promise of renewal, had brought me Naomi. For that, I was immensely grateful, filled with a deep sense of purpose and belonging.
"Who knows where life will take me," I replied, my eyes settling on the small building I was about to start renovations on. "But I know this is where I’m supposed to be right now."
"Does she know?" Dorien asked, a smirk playing on his lips. His knack for reading my thoughts was both irritating and impressive.
"She knows I built apps," I responded, keeping my expression neutral.
"So she doesn’t know," he chuckled, his amusement clear.
I winced at the thought of my past. Yes, I built apps—that was true. I did create and sell them, making millions in the process. But there was a darker side to those trips abroad I started taking. Dorien had introduced me to a world where my skills were used for more sinister purposes. He had pitched me as The Tech God, the only person he trusted to develop software for his "clients." I was the man behind the manipulation of algorithms, the creation of ransomware, and the provision of backdoor solutions that enabled sabotage and data breaches. And these clients often required my presence in their offices, halfway across the globe.
Reflecting on this hidden chapter of my life that only he knew the full extent of, I felt the weight of the secrets I still carried, wondering how much I could ever reveal to Naomi without risking everything we were building together.
"Things are new with Naomi, but I have a feeling you're in this for the long haul. I know you can’t tell her everything but, I wouldn’t keep that chapter from her if it’s gonna eat you alive or cause a rift down the road," he cautioned. It struck a chord, even though I knew revealing my past could open a can of worms.
We had signed endless NDAs, layers of confidentiality that weren’t just pieces of paper but binding chains of our past actions. Why would he suggest I break that silence? His own life was still shadowed by the darker trades, a fact that made his rare appearances in my life all the more poignant.
"What? You going soft on me?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"Nah, I just know living a double life can ruin relationships," he replied solemnly, a hint of personal loss tinting his voice, which piqued my curiosity. Dorien seldom ventured into the personal, and his openness hinted at deeper cuts.
“I’m not living a double life, bro. The past is the past,” I said with a smirk, trying to keep the mood light. But when I looked at Dorien, I found him lost in deep thought, his expression unusually somber. Something about his demeanor caught me off guard, sparking a concern that nudged me to probe a bit more delicately. “Did you lose somebody?” I ventured cautiously, my tone shifting to match the seriousness I read in his eyes.
"Yeah," he admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck—a telltale sign of his discomfort. "It’s hard when you can’t explain why you’re away all the time, or where you’ve been, or why."
His words mirrored my own history—a marriage lost while Xion played my role at home as I gallivanted around the globe being adult Spy Kid.
"Tell me about it," I responded, the weight of shared understanding between us.
It was a reflection not just of past mistakes but of future choices. How much of my past should Naomi know? Dorien gave a slight shake of his head, a rueful smile crossing his face as he realized the depth of the conversation had drifted into sensitive territory.
"My bad, man," he said, acknowledging the personal chords he had struck.
"Shhhiiitt, it’s all good," I laughed, brushing off the past. "But whoever that special lady is, if you still love her, go get her, D. It’s not over till you take your last breath."
Something shifted in Dorien's expression as he looked at me. It wasn't a look I could easily decipher, but it felt like a barrier had broken down with my words. He was suddenly vulnerable, a side of him I rarely saw.
"You're right," he admitted, a nod of realization as if the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place in his mind. I'd never known Dorien to show much interest in anyone, so his reaction took me by surprise. Whoever this mystery woman was, she had him by the heart.
"When all this shit is done with Kayla and Jeffery, I wanna meet her," I said, a teasing challenge in my tone as I looked at my friend, who was clearly smitten with someone.
"Who?" he asked, feigning ignorance but with a curious tilt to his eyebrow.
"The woman crazy enough to deal with your ass," I quipped, a broad grin spreading across my face. The moment was light, but the undercurrents were real—a friend seeing another possibly ready to change his life for love, just as I had begun to do with Naomi.
Dorien’s cheeks flushed a shade redder like a damn school girl, his usual nonchalant demeanor slipping under my teasing. He brushed off my comment with a shy, "Man, chill out," trying to hide behind a smirk, but it was clear he wasn’t fooling anyone.
Just then, my phone started to buzz, breaking our moment of laughter. It was Dad, and as I answered, I heard his voice not just through the phone but also echoing from behind me. “Boy! You know you got them people coming here to see you!”
I spun around, and there he was—Senior striding towards me, my contractors trailing behind him. Glancing at my watch, I realized how the afternoon had slipped by while Dorien and I plotted our moves against those threatening Naomi’s business.
“Why you out here by yourself ahead of us?” Senior inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone.
“By myself? I—” I started, turning around frantically. Dorien had vanished, always a ghost. He'd be back, no doubt, slipping in and out of sight exactly as he always did, exactly when needed.
Senior’s eyebrows knitted together, and he leaned in closer to me, his voice low as he held my shoulders. “Son, you been drinking some of the wine on the job?”
“No, Senior,” I replied with a chuckle, pushing past the moment as I moved to greet everyone. “Just lost track of time,” I added, leading them towards the building, ready to shift focus to the work at hand.
As we approached the small historic building, the rustic charm of its architecture stood in stark contrast to the lush vineyards surrounding it. This was more than just a structure; it was a legacy, each stone and beam holding stories that were as much a part of my family as the vines themselves.
I gathered the contractors around, their attentive eyes on me as I prepared to share my vision one more time. The importance of every detail wasn't just professional; it was personal.
"Alright, everyone, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page here," I began, my voice firm with resolve. I pulled out the blueprints and laid them on a makeshift table we’d set up outside the building. "This renovation needs to respect the history of this place while making it capable of meeting modern demands. We’re blending the old with the new—state-of-the-art facilities housed within these historic walls."
I pointed to specific areas on the blueprint my father handed me. "Here, we’re reinforcing the structure without altering its original appearance. Over there," I motioned towards the west end of the building, "we’ll install the new fermentation tanks, but they’ll be enclosed in a way that doesn't disrupt the building's vintage aesthetic."
I looked around, making eye contact with each team member. "It’s crucial that the work done here is seamless and subtle. We want visitors to feel the history when they step inside, not just see a modern winery. Every nail, every board, and every pane of glass should enhance what’s already here, not overshadow it."
Senior nodded in approval, his expression one of pride. "And don’t forget, folks, this isn’t just any project. This is my son taking on his grandfather’s dream—making it his own while keeping the soul of this place intact."
The team murmured their agreement, each one appearing more committed than before. "Does everyone feel confident about the plans?" I asked, my gaze sweeping over the group.
They responded with nods and a few voiced affirmations, ready to embark on the task with a clear understanding of the vision and the sensitivity it required.
The air was light and filled with the camaraderie that often blossomed among those who had worked together under the California sun, surrounded by the vines and legacy of the Thompson family.
"As I’ve let you all know already, I’ll be out of town next week when you start, but call me day or night about anything," I reminded the crew, making sure they knew I was only a phone call away despite the physical distance.
Senior, ever the character, couldn't resist adding his own flair to the conversation.
“Yes, my son will be in New York, making me a grand baby,” he declared with a booming voice, rolling up the blueprint as if sealing the deal on his proclamation.
I shot him a playful look, the familiar banter between us unfolding naturally. “I'm gonna tell your wife on you,” I threatened jokingly, knowing well how these exchanges went.
“You better not, and you better make sure I win that bet, Caleb Thompson Jr.,” he shot back, the twinkle in his eye telling me he was thoroughly enjoying the moment.
The guys around us laughed, no strangers to my father's antics. They had been around long enough to appreciate the light-hearted exchanges that often punctuated the more serious work at the winery. This blend of professional diligence and familial jest was what made working here more than just a job to many—it was a part of being in the Thompson family circle, even if only by association.
Senior's banter never missed a beat, and his playful nudging at Paul, our trusted painter, was no exception. “Paul, you and your wife just had a baby. Tell Caleb how to do it!” he said, giving Paul a friendly pat on the shoulder, inviting him into the jest.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the direction this conversation was heading. “I know what to do, Dad,” I defended, trying to steer the chat away from my reproductive capabilities.
But Senior was on a roll, glancing around with exaggerated motions. “Well, ain’t no kids here… so I don’t know,” he teased, pushing the joke further.
The mention of kids brought a sharper edge to my voice, “Who was I supposed to have kids with? Imagine me trying to coparent with Jasmine these days.” The thought alone was enough to dismiss the idea entirely.
Senior paused, his humor fading as he considered my words. He seemed to search the horizon briefly, lost in thought, before his eyes met mine again with renewed seriousness.
“You’re right about that. But Naomi, she’s the one. Lock it in.” His voice carried a mix of firm advice and fatherly concern, emphasizing his approval of Naomi over the complexities of my past with Jasmine.
It was clear he saw Naomi not just as a passing phase but as a cornerstone for a new chapter—one he hoped would include the grandchildren he was already eager to spoil.
As the contractors dispersed to their respective tasks and conversations, my thoughts lingered on Senior’s words and the concept of a future with Naomi. Despite the short time we had been together, the depth of our connection was undeniable. Each moment with her felt like a confirmation from the universe that this was right, that she was the person I was meant to find after all the chaos of my past.
I found a quiet spot near an old oak tree that overlooked the vineyard, a place that had always been a sanctuary for my thoughts. As I leaned against the rough bark, I allowed myself to envision a life with Naomi, picturing a future that included laughter, shared dreams, and maybe, just maybe, the patter of little feet on the wooden floors of the historic home I was so carefully restoring.
The idea of one day starting a family with Naomi felt both exhilarating and terrifying. It wasn't just about the romantic notion of children but the commitment and the deep partnership it required. I felt a sense of readiness within me, a readiness that I hadn’t recognized with anyone else. With Naomi, things felt different; they felt destined.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that every twist and turn in my life might have been leading me to her. From the restless days of tech adventures overseas to the serene and grounding presence of the vineyard, every experience had shaped me into someone who could appreciate and love Naomi as she deserved.
In Naomi, I saw not just a partner for today, but potentially for a lifetime, a co-creator of the family I’d always hoped to have when the time was right.
The resolve settled deeply within me as I considered the challenges that lay ahead. Kayla and Jeffery had become formidable obstacles, casting shadows over the life Naomi and I were trying to build together. Though I had never personally crossed paths with them, their actions against Naomi made them my adversaries by extension. The way they targeted her, disrupted her peace—it was as if they had struck at me directly.
This was personal. This wasn't just about business or retaliation; it was about securing a life where Naomi could thrive without being haunted by past grievances or current threats.
Naomi deserved peace, the kind that would let her love, work, and dream without looking over her shoulder. And I was committed to providing that for her, to removing the disruptions caused by Kayla and Jeffery with as much precision and finality as I managed any business venture. The thought of them continuing to unsettle her life ignited a protective urgency in me.
This wasn’t just about settling scores. It was about setting the stage for a future where the only surprises that came our way were the pleasant kinds, like spontaneous trips to new countries or unexpected laughter over breakfast in bed. For Naomi, I would navigate the complexities ahead with a clear focus on our shared happiness and well-being, ensuring that the life we were planning together would be shielded from further turmoil.
However, Naomi walked into my office later that day, her face was pinched with concern, and her voice was tight with urgency.
"We need to talk," she said, closing the door behind her with a soft click that sounded ominously final.
As she told me about Jasmine being on the property, recounting the accusations and pointing out the marks she had seen on Jasmine's wrists, a cold dread settled over me. It felt like the floor beneath me might just open up and swallow me whole. The gravity of her words, the seriousness of the allegations—it all hit me with a force that was nearly physical, leaving me momentarily unsteady.
The questions tumbled out of me, each one laced with a mixture of shock and disbelief. "Jasmine was on this property? And she accused me of what?"
The very idea that Jasmine would not only trespass but also hurl such serious accusations against me was both baffling and alarming. It felt like the ground itself was threatening to engulf me.
“I didn’t do that to her, Naomi. I’ve never hurt Jasmine; I’ve never hurt any woman. And I would never hurt you,” I rushed out the words, standing up from my desk in a sudden move, bracing for her interruption, for a sign of disbelief.
The mere thought of Naomi suspecting me of harming Jasmine, of posing a threat so vile, churned my stomach. The panic that she might believe such lies and end things between us was paralyzing.
Naomi's past experiences with Jeffery haunted me, the knowledge of her suffering making me feel almost delirious with empathy and protective instincts. I couldn't even begin to comprehend the depth of her pain or the strength it must have taken to endure such treatment. The last thing I ever wanted was for her to see me in the same light as someone who had caused her so much harm. It was crucial for me to ensure she understood that I was nothing like Jeffery, that I would treat her with the respect, care, and love she deserved. My priority was to provide her with the safety and support that would help heal the wounds of her past, not deepen them.
“I know you didn’t do those things, Caleb,” she said, her voice soft but distant, her eyes watery as she lingered near the door, as if positioning herself for a quick escape despite her words of trust.
“You do?” I found myself asking, a mix of relief and residual fear making my voice tremble slightly. I was poised to defend myself, to lay bare every truth, to grovel if that's what it took to erase any shadow of doubt from her mind.
Her affirmation was a lifeline, but the space she maintained, the distance at the door—it spoke of a fear not yet quelled, a trust not entirely mended. I needed to bridge that gap, to rebuild whatever this accusation had threatened to tear down between us.
Seeing Naomi so overwhelmed, caught in a tempest of emotions I desperately wanted to soothe, I halted my advance. Her distress was palpable, and every instinct in me wanted to bridge the gap, to hold her and reassure her, but I remained rooted to the spot, recognizing her need for space in that moment.
The machinations behind Jasmine’s accusations seemed painfully clear now. It was as if she had deliberately crafted her lies to strike where they would hurt the most—targeting Naomi’s past traumas. Could Jasmine have researched Naomi? Had she intentionally dug into her history with Jeffery to twist the knife deeper with her lies? The possibility of such calculated cruelty added a cold fury to my worry.
Naomi's mention of marks on Jasmine stirred confusion and concern. If those marks were real, they suggested that Xion, my former best friend and Jasmine's partner, might be abusing her. This possibility introduced a complex blend of emotions, from anger and betrayal to an unexpected worry for her safety. It was crucial to understand the full extent of their relationship dynamics—not only to address the current accusations but also to ensure everyone's safety. While my priority was Naomi’s peace of mind, the potential of Jasmine being in danger added a complicated layer to the situation.
“I know,” Naomi said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked down at the floor, then absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her simple admission, “I know, I just…Caleb, this is a lot,” spoke volumes.
“I understand,” I replied, my voice steady yet full of warmth, striving to bridge the emotional distance between us with my words. “Take all the time you need to process this. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”
My promise was not just of presence but of unwavering support, an anchor in the storm that Jasmine’s lies had stirred.
Naomi's tears continued to fall, each one cutting through me painfully. This situation was tied to Jasmine, my ex, and it felt like my past actions had indirectly led to this moment.
"Naomi, can I hold you?" I asked gently, seeking her permission in a voice edged with desperation.
She didn't meet my gaze, but her slight nod gave me the consent I needed.
Instead of rushing over, I approached Naomi slowly, giving her the space to see my intentions. Gently, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close with care. I rubbed her back soothingly and kissed the top of her head, feeling her thick curls beneath my lips.
Her immediate trust in my innocence, before Jasmine's accusations even reached my ears, spoke volumes. She knew me—knew I was incapable of such acts, even though she was aware there were parts of me she hadn't yet seen, parts I might use to deal with Jeffery. But she understood those darker shades of me would never touch our relationship, that I'd never turn that side towards her or let it loose on Jasmine, or any woman.
As I wrapped my arms around Naomi, I could feel a slight tremble in her frame—a subtle but unmistakable sign of her distress. Jasmine had struck a nerve, one so fragile and raw. The thought that Jasmine might have intentionally targeted such a vulnerable part of Naomi's past filled me with a cold anger.
“I’m sorry, Naomi,” I apologized, my voice low and steady.
She didn’t say anything in response; instead, she clutched my shirt, her grip tightening. I could feel the fabric growing damp with her tears, each drop fueling a rising anger inside me—an anger at her peace being shattered, especially here, in what had become her sanctuary. As I held her, the protective side of me that I kept restrained was now pushing to the forefront, demanding action.
"Why would she say such horrible things about you?" Naomi asked, her voice tinged with confusion and hurt as she mentioned the texts.
"I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I’m going to make this right," I assured her, feeling a resolve harden within me.
"If someone else is hurting her—"
"I’ll find out. I will," I interjected firmly, cutting her off before her thoughts could spiral further.
Although Naomi's compassion for Jasmine was touching, it pained me that she was put in such a distressing position. I needed to resolve this, not just to clear my name but to protect Naomi from the emotional turmoil of this situation.
I knew what I needed to do next. I needed to see Xion, to confront the situation head-on. This wasn't just about setting the record straight; it was about safeguarding Naomi’s well-being and ensuring this kind of disruption never threatened her peace again.