Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Didn’t I know that firsthand?
The conversation ended, but his words lingered, stoking the fire of my determination. I won’t let my father’s sins screw the future I’m trying to build—for Sylvie, for the winery, for me. I press the accelerator, the engine’s roar a defiant cry against blacktop roads.
When I pull up to the house that was just listed for sale three days ago, I don’t give it much of a once-over. I’ve driven by this estate hundreds of times in my life and have always admired the sprawling sixty-two acres that house a seventeen-thousand-square-foot mansion complete with ten bedrooms and eighteen baths, a separate indoor pool house that’s another thirteen thousand square feet, a detached ten-car garage, an eighteen stall barn and four ponds.
It is far more than one man needs, but if there’s one thing the Mardraggons know how to do just as well as making money, that’s spending it. The seven-and-a-half-million-dollar price tag is a bargain, considering the home comes fully furnished.
Jeanette Littleton walks down the porch steps wearing a bloodred skirt suit with black pegged heels. Her hair and makeup have been done to perfection, her long nails the color of her outfit. We exchange greetings and she coolly sweeps her hand toward the front door. “Shall I give you the tour?”
I nod and follow her inside, blown away by the opulence that wasn’t quite translated by the pictures in the official listing.
The entry foyer is an architectural marvel with a grand staircase creating an elegant focal point as it curves gracefully upward. The glossy checkered marble floor reflects the natural light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer an uninterrupted view of the estate’s lush grounds.
Beyond the foyer is a luxurious living space, the grandeur amplified by towering columns and a striking mezzanine balcony under which sits a grand piano on a raised dais. Sumptuous armchairs and a sleek glass table suggest a blend of modern comfort with classic style, more suited to my personal tastes.
Jeanette leads me through the house, each room grander than the last. The master suite is a room unlike any I’ve ever seen and I’ve stayed at some of the finest hotels in the world and some of the most expensive homes of billionaire friends. Nothing compares to this lavish space. A four-poster bed anchors the room, surrounded by plump chairs you can sink down into and gleaming rich hardwood floors. Overhead, the ceiling features an intricate coffered design and skylights flood the space with natural light.
More floor-to-ceiling windows framed by crisp plantation shutters maintain the estate’s southern vibe. The color palette is soft and natural with creamy whites, which are a welcome change to the dull gray of the Mardraggon estate. Every detail, from the ornate chandelier to the delicate floral arrangements, speaks to me on a softer level.
I’m taken on a golf cart tour of the acreage, over to the pool house and the barns but truly, I’d made my decision before we left the master suite.
At the conclusion of the tour, I tell Jeanette, “I’ll take it.”
“What would you like to counter at?” she asks, pulling out her iPad to make some notes. “And do you want any concessions?”
“I’ll pay the asking price but I want to move in today. I’ll gladly pay rent until we can close and I’ll be paying cash.”
The real estate agent blinks, stunned at the easy deal. “If that’s the case, we can close fairly quickly.”
“Make it happen,” I instruct, and then I’m heading back to my Ferrari to drive into Frankfort where Mardraggon Enterprises are headquartered. Got more important business to attend to.
CHAPTER 3
Kat
Hustling through my shower, I ignore the rumbling in my belly. I haven’t eaten since breakfast because I’ve been going at a hundred miles an hour since I woke up at five a.m. I’m already bemoaning the fact I won’t be joining the family tonight for some of Miranda’s amazing meatloaf and mashed potatoes.
Agreeing to help Ethan with the medical management of the show horses was far more work than I’d anticipated, and I did a horrible job of planning out my day. Trying to manage the training schedule, actually training horses and giving lessons, and the host of administrative complications that come with it is a full-time job in and of itself. Add on the nightmare of managing the more than three hundred horses between the broodmares, foals, yearlings, studs, show horses, lesson horses and retired horses, it’s enough to make my eyes cross.
What I learned today is that I can’t bounce back and forth between the two. I tried to pour through the countless spreadsheets that track routine vet visits, supplements and vitamins, chiropractic appointments, floating teeth and other illnesses in between training and lessons, and it was a disaster. I learned today that I’m not a multitasker of any great magnitude so my game plan on how to manage my day has changed.