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I’m fucked.
Completely and royally fucked.
I realized in that instant it wasn’t just her body I missed, but her. I missedher. Her smile, her laugh, her smart-ass mouth, her witty intellect. I’d only been with her a couple of nights—several times in those couple of nights, sure—but our brief time together solidified the feelings that had already slowly been creeping up over the last several weeks.
Not to mention her family and friends. I’d called Sophia and asked if there was anything I could do to help. She instructed me to get in touch with Jenny, who was taking charge with everything going on. From there, I’d been invited to help at the winery for the next few days. Audrey and Lauren would be there too, but she’d said she’d appreciate any extra help she could get.
So, for the next couple of days, I’d worked with them, learning about the ins and outs of the Moretti vineyard and getting to know them. I could see how these four girls had remained best friends. They were all welcoming, all dedicated to Siena and her grandparents. The winery had been hard work, not knowing what the heck I was doing, and they all got a good laugh at my expense when they caught me fumbling and completely confused.
Friday night, I left the winery completely exhausted and dead to the world after working a full day there and then late into the night with hotel stuff. Saturday, I’d shown up midafternoon and worked with the girls until closing. I’d felt a little odd joining them for dinner afterward, but they’d insisted I come along, telling me, “A successful team effort needed to be commemorated.” I felt a connection to Siena being with her three best friends. They made me feel like a part of a team, like part of their family.
It was a strange feeling, and I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt about it. I was torn. Building these new relationships in Monarch felt like a betrayal. A betrayal to Siena, to her grandparents, and even to the girls because I knew my father was still insistent that he get the winery at any cost, by any means necessary.
And it felt like a betrayal to my father because I just didn’t know if I was still willing to try to get it for him.
My phone vibrated, indicating an incoming call.Siena, I thought, my heart skipping a beat as I turned it over.
“Shit.” Deflated, I waited a second before answering, remembering the other missed calls from him that I still hadn’t returned. “Hi, Dad. What’s up?”
“You’ve been a difficult man to get ahold of.” His curt tone made me cringe like a child being scolded.
“Sorry.” I rolled my head back and forth to release the immediate tension he brought. “Things have been crazy around here, but they’re still on schedule.”
“Good. I was calling to let you know that I sent Walter out. He spoke to Mr. Moretti, but—”
“What?” I yelled. “You had no right to do that.” I didn’t know why I didn’t foresee this move. I should’ve known he’d send Walter, his bulldog, out when I didn’t immediately close the deal.
“I beg to differ. I am the owner of the company. I do as I see fit. And since you weren’t getting anywhere, I sent Walter out to sweeten the deal.”
“I told you they wouldn’t sell. I got you the best deal I could—”
“No, Michael,” he cut me off. “You got the best deal you thought you could. There’s always a way. You know better.”
“Their whole world is that winery. You don’t know these people. I do.”
“I see.” I could hear his fingers drumming on his desktop. He was annoyed. Now, so was I. “Regardless, there are a couple of things I need you to handle.”
I didn’t like the sound in his voice.
“Walter didn’t get any further than you did. Mr. Moretti dug in his heels and said he wouldn’t deal with anyone but you.”
“I told you, Dad. I’ve been working on building a cohesive relationship with them.” I didn’t dare tell him more than that. If he knew about Siena and me, he’d blow a gasket.
“Well, that’s all well and good. Doesn’t seem to have helped with getting the winery, Son. I told you before:I want it. And I will do whatever I have to do to get it.”
“I don’t know how—”
“It sounds like there might be a conflict of interest,” he stopped me, interrupting.
“There isn’t, Dad. I’m just saying—”
He cut me off again. “Maybe I need to bring Matthew in on it, see if he can get things done.” I was used to this kind of exchange—Allan Blaire making demands, silencing me when he didn’t like what I had to say.
“Do whatever you have to do. But I’m warning you—”
“Warning me?”
“Sal’s had some heart trouble. Steer clear of him.”
