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Tyler
“Trent, stop, man! This isn’t you.”
“I said no,” he snaps at me and I take a step back. Truthfully, I’ve never seen him this angry before, and I feel like there’s something else going on here. “You.” He points at Amelia and takes another step toward her. “Your sellout family sold their winery rights to Treymore Food and Bev. We all know the shady shit they’re involved in—how they drive out small and locally-owned family businesses and replace them with strip mall wineries and shitty chain bars.”
Amelia crosses her arms and leans back a little, clearly not impressed with the knowledge Trent thinks he’s dropping on everyone.
“Yeah, look what they did in Idaho. They drove out more than 15 businesses so they could open up a fucking ski resort and ruin that town. You’re in bed with some really fucking sleazy people, and I know what they’ve done.”
“If you’d finished your research, then you’d have seen that I took all of my inheritance and every single penny I have to my name and bought back my family business. That’s right, I own Blanc Wineries. I’m not opening chain wineries; I’m trying to build back what my family once was.”
Brooklyn steps up and grabs Amelia’s hand. She pulls her away and tries to comfort her as Amelia apologizes profusely for ruining the party.
“Time to go, buddy.” I grab Trent by the shoulders and spin him around to lead him outside. He shouts a few things as we leave the barn. He suddenly jerks away from me and starts to walk back toward my parents’ house, but I follow him.
“Hey!” I follow after him. “What the fuck was that shit?” I shout as we walk up to the porch.
“I told you, Tyler, this shit is way more serious than you think. You’re always out at the ranch, but you don’t know the stuff I know. You don’t see the shady back-door deals that go on in this business world.”
I shake my head. Trent has a knack for being overdramatic, but this takes the cake. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk, I’m tipsy, but I still know what I’m talking about.”
“Enlighten me, then.” I take a seat in one of the rocking chairs while he paces.
“There’s been a lot of talk around town about these land vultures swooping in here, buying massive amounts of acreage, and nobody knows why or what for.”
“That’s been going on for years. We both know it’s only a matter of time before one of those huge hedge funds that has their hands deep in the government’s pockets tries to swoop in with eminent domain and take the ranch for a resort.”
“Yeah, well, what the fuck are we going to do about it? Money doesn’t talk to these people. I’ve heard there have been a couple goons with guns spotted over on Gelson’s Ranch, Tyler. They’ve got powerful people in their back pockets—politicians, the cops.”
“What does it have to do with us, though? We aren’t vigilantes and we’re not just some small mom-and-pop brewery anymore, Trent. We’re a billion-dollar empire with power and a reputation. They’re not the only people with long arms, you know that.”
Trent takes a seat next to me and shakes his head.
“Amelia is just wanting to expand her winery business,” I say. “Let her open up a winery in Fort Collins. It has nothing to do with us.”
“What about Slade Wines?”
I laugh. “What about it? That’s a pipe dream you came up with and have never done shit to make it happen. Like Dad said before, we’re stretched thin enough. We need to stay in our lane. Business is great—better than it’s ever been—so don’t get fucking greedy.”
I stand up and walk to the edge of the porch to head back over to the party and check on Brooklyn. “And for the record, you owe Brooklyn an apology. You could have picked any other time to have a meltdown over this.”
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, “but I still think you’re being naive about all this.”
I shake my head and walk back over to the barn to try to calm down Brook.
“What the absolute hell?” Her eyes are huge as she meets me outside.
“He’s being dramatic is all. You okay? Did Amelia leave?”
“Yeah,” she steps closer to me and rests her head against my chest. “She was upset, but she’ll be okay. You promise he’s just being dramatic? Is there something I should be worried about?”
I look down at her and poke the tip of her nose, then follow it up with a kiss. “I promise. We just need to focus on keeping you and our baby healthy, and getting your cute little ass down the aisle.”
It’s beentwo weeks of nonstop fire drills.
Brooklyn woke up two days after our engagement party sobbing, convinced she’d lost the baby. When I asked her if she was bleeding, she said no, she just had horrible cramps, so we rushed to the doctor only to find out it was gas.
