Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Floral arrangements, obviously. But also . . .” Hallie stepped forward, coming farther into the light. “Literally anything nefarious. Namely bachelorette party planning. I got you.”
“You’re a little nuts, aren’t you, Hallie?”
“I wrote your brother secret admirer letters and got jealous when he wrote me back.”
“Good point.” Natalie tapped a finger against the side of her mug. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m entering into this phony union with someone I once called diseased foreskin? Or are you not asking because you already know?”
“Julian and I have been talking about . . . you know.” Hallie flushed so rapidly, it was a wonder her legs had enough blood in them to keep her upright. “Marriage. To each other. And he might have mentioned something about a trust fund that will be released once that happens. He’s, um . . . well, he asked if I’d be opposed to him putting that money back into the winery. When the time comes.”
A pang caught Natalie in the throat. “Well, he’s a lot more selfless than I am.”
“No.” Hallie shook her head. “He’s just in a better position to help at this moment.”
“I would help if they asked. If I thought they wanted my help—” She cut herself off with a wave of her hand, forcing a smile. “I appreciate your offer to help, crazy pants. I accept. I will feed your need for chaos as long as you keep my secret among family.”
Hallie closed her eyes slowly, hands pressing together between her breasts. “Thank you. I hereby declare myself your secret minion.”
“Just don’t ask me to call you that.” Natalie switched off the coffee maker and sauntered toward the hallway, half a cup in hand. Before exiting, she stopped in front of Hallie, who was all but quivering in excitement. “My brother has no idea what he’s gotten into, does he?”
“Actually, he does.” The gardener’s eyes sparkled. “He’s fully aware that I’m capable of destruction and he loves me anyway. Maybe he’s the crazy one.”
“Maybe so,” Natalie muttered, shaking her head. “I’ve mentioned I like you, haven’t I?”
“I like you, too.” Hallie winked and melted back into the darkness, whispering, “Let’s fuck shit up,” as she vanished into the black.
Natalie stared into the dark for long moments, guilt beginning to tickle her throat. Now she’d dragged her entire family and Hallie into her scheme? Was this going to be the lie that multiplied into a thousand more, when the whole charade could potentially be avoided with one humbling phone call to her father in Italy?
Yeah.
Her head fell back on her shoulders, a silent groan issued at the ceiling. One phone call. She could do it. Preferably before she did any more damage—or implicated any more loved ones. But man, was it going to suck.
* * *
Natalie doodled furiously on a notepad, dragging the tip of the ballpoint pen back and forth in a blue trench that slowly turned black. In her ear, the sound of a call connecting to Europe buzz-buzzed. She broke out in a cold sweat, glanced at the clock, and did the time-difference math again. Eight hours ahead in Italy. It would be early evening. She had no idea what her father’s schedule was like, no idea if this was still his phone number, even. But she didn’t want to look back in ten years and wish she’d made this attempt to avert catastrophe.
“Hello.”
Brisk. Gave nothing away. That was her father.
God, there was no one on earth more intimidating, and she’d come across some giants while in finance. Dalton Vos had judgmental eyes and no time. Always rushing, on to the next best thing, as if he had a fear of leaving the world without putting his mark on it. He’d been frantic in his desire for his to be the most lucrative winery in Napa. As soon as that was accomplished, he’d gotten . . . bored. With St. Helena. His family.
The fire four years ago seemed almost unacceptable, like he couldn’t admit a natural disaster had gotten the better of him. After ending his fraught marriage to Corinne and signing over Vos Vineyard, he’d shifted his obsessive focus to a Formula One team, no doubt investing a giant chunk of money that the winery could desperately use.
It was the reminder of what Dalton had done to her mother that made Natalie throw down the pen and sit up straight. “Hello, Father, it’s Natalie.”
“Yes. Your number came up,” he said, almost distractedly. “How are you?”
“Fine. I’m in St. Helena, actually.”
“Ah.” A short pause. “How is Corinne? Exhausted, I’m guessing. It’s not easy operating a vineyard, as I’m sure she’s realized by now.”
“She’s thriving, actually,” Natalie said without hesitation. Sure, there might be tension between her and Corinne, but there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d let this man think he’d been the strongest thing about her mother. Or that she was worse off without him. Any woman worth her salt would have done the same. “Better than ever.”