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Grant laughed. “Dealing with Chelsea? You have my sympathy by the bucket load.”
Chelsea turned and gave him a hurt look. “You love dealing with Chelsea.”
He smiled and nodded at her. “Yes, dear. I do, dear. Anything you say, dear.”
She laughed and slapped his arm. “You’ll pay for that when we get home.”
He grinned at her. “Why do you think I said it?”
Marcos smiled as a hint of pink appeared on Chelsea’s cheeks. She and Grant were good for each other; he could see it.
Grant looked around at them. “Can someone help me out here and change the subject?”
“I will,” said Molly with a laugh. “Weren’t you interested in buying land at one point?”
“I still am. I’m just waiting for the right property to come up for sale.”
“What is it that you’re looking for?” asked Marcos.
“Oh, no. I’m not looking for a particular type of property but at one property in particular.”
Chelsea smiled up at him. “It’ll happen. We’ll make it happen.”
Marcos raised an eyebrow, not understanding.
“Do you remember Dawson Dale Wines?” asked Grant.
Marcos nodded. “I do. They were legendary at one point. It was a really cool old guy who owned the place, if I remember correctly. But he went out of business.”
Grant nodded sadly. “That cool old guy was my grandfather. Call me sentimental, but I’ve always wanted to buy the place back. I don’t know if that will ever be possible now, but …”
“It will,” said Chelsea adamantly. “We’ll find a way.”
“What’s the deal?” asked Marcos.
Grant sighed. “It was only a small winery. When I first came back here, it was run-down, and I thought I might be able to buy it. The Hardy estate next door bought it before it ever went on the market. Now, word is that the entire Hardy place is going to come up for sale, and there’s no way we could buy that.”
Marcos nodded. He knew the Hardy estate well. It wasn’t huge, but it covered some great land on the higher slopes. They produced some of the best grapes in Napa—or Sonoma since the estate lay on the border between the two counties.
Chelsea shook her head. “Don’t be so defeatist; we have time.”
Grant smiled at Marcos. “I suppose anything’s possible.”
Molly nodded her agreement. “It is.” She leaned her head against Marcos’ shoulder. “We’re living proof of that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Marcos sat staring at his computer screen. They’d had a great weekend, and it wasn’t even over yet. It was Monday morning, but since Molly didn’t work Mondays at the restaurant, they still had another day together.
Even though Molly’s work week didn’t begin on Mondays, his still had to. He had to check what was happening when the markets went to work. Things weren’t looking too rosy, and he was holding back. He was cautious by nature, and he didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Considering that he could pull all his investments today and never have to worry or work again, he didn’t see any reason to play a volatile market. Well, no reason other than to feel useful. He had to have some purpose. He had to be doing something. He shook his head and switched screens. There was something useful he could be doing. The Hardy estate had been listed first thing this morning—he’d set up an account with a local realtor so that he was notified whenever anything that fit his requirements came onto the market.
He scrolled through the photographs. There were a dozen pictures of the house that held no interest for him. The land, on the other hand, had him spending more time, examining each one closely. It looked perfect. It wasn’t too far away from here. He shook his head. It was a lot more land and a lot more money than he’d been thinking, but his conversation with Grant the other day had stayed with him. He was starting to think that he might be able to help another family legacy as well as his own.
He picked up his phone but put it down when Molly appeared in the doorway. “Do you want coffee?”
“Yes, please. I’ll be done in a few minutes. I just need to make a couple of phone calls.”
“Take your time. I’m going to take my coffee outside to enjoy the morning.”
