AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yep,” Jeff said. “Catchy, isn’t it?”
Catchydefinitely wasn’t the word I’d use, not with the tangled knot of jealousy that had materialized in my chest and was currently pressing on my sternum.
Delatou & Danvers, a new line of canned, wine-based cocktails from Chateau Delatou, brought to you by Amara Delatou and Liam Danvers.
God, seeing their names together like that made me fucking sick.
Amara was a beautiful woman; that wasn’t news. What was news, to me at least, was how much the CD grower had taken notice. The comment he’d made about her rack last week when we’d gone out into the vineyard had been plunking around in my head since. It had taken Herculean self-control to not call him out beyond telling them to act more professional.
I was the only one who should be noticing that rack, and I damn well better be the only one who got to feel those tits pressed against his chest or filling his hands.
God, figure your shit out, Ryder. You don’t own her.
But damnit, did I want to—and that thought scared the shit out of me.
“It’s definitely something,” I said to Jeff at last.
“They’ve got four recipes ready to go. Ms. Delatou gave Cindy some samples, and we tried them over the weekend. They’reamazing,” he gushed.
I wasn’t surprised. Amara had spent more than enough time sampling alcohol all over the world; she’d accept nothing but perfection. And Danvers was a talented mixologist in his own right.
In fact, I was more surprised by the fact that my assistant and hers were spending time together outside of work. Seemed Jeff finally found the balls to shoot his shot. Good for him.
I sat back in my chair, balancing my elbows on the armrests and steepling my fingers in front of me. “Wonder where my samples are…”
“Oh, shit, sir. I’m sorry. I should’ve thought—”
I waved him off. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll approach Ms. Delatou about them myself.”
Jeff frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Quite,” I assured him with a smile. “What else has been happening? What’s on her agenda for today?”
I flicked my wrist to check my watch, surprised to find it was nearing five p.m. I’d been so busy today that I’d worked right through lunch without noticing. The thought elicited a growl from my stomach.
“She had a meeting with a boutique hotel owner this morning. Not entirely sure what that’s about. I’ll head over and see Cindy when I leave here, see if she can clue me in. If not, I’ll approach legal to see if any contract requests have come through today.”
The wordsboutique hotel ownerhad the hair on the back of my neck rising. He couldn’t possibly mean…
“What’s their name?” I asked, though deep in my gut, I already knew the answer.
“Amie something,” Jeff said. “Sorry, I can’t remember the last name.”
“Fulton?” I prompted.
Jeff nodded, snapping his fingers excitedly. “Yes, that’s it!”
“Damn,” I said, brushing a hand through my hair.
Amie Fulton had moved to the area about five years ago, right around the time I did, after purchasing an old, run-down McMansion on the northern outskirts of Traverse City, right at the base of Old Mission.
A year later, after a complete gut job and external overhaul, she opened her boutique hotel—The Harvest Inn. The name was a little too whimsical for my tastes, and I honestly expected her to fail within the first six months. I knew how much money she dumped into that property, and I couldn’t see how she’d have any hope of earning back her investment and turning a profit.
Naturally, she’d proved me wrong.
Then again, that had always been her favorite thing to do.
I’d given Amie and our relationship roughly two years of my life, and in the end…I wanted more, and she hadn’t. She was content with her hotel, and expanding her real estate empire to other properties across the area.
