Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
August held up the cat’s paw in a little wave and strolled past her toward the house. “I don’t know, did I?”
“August!”
“Meet you at the end of the aisle, Natalie.”
Her intended had just moved out of earshot when her phone buzzed in her pocket.
When she saw her father’s name on the screen, the warm fuzzies she’d—admittedly—gotten from her conversation with August vanished. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he’d called on her wedding day. She stepped into a small tent at the edge of the property that appeared to be set up as a coat check. And she answered.
“Father.”
There was a short burst of Italian on the other end, then Dalton’s voice came through clear. “Natalie.” His sigh was woven with resignation. “You’re going to call off this ridiculous spectacle immediately. What are people going to think when I’m not in attendance at my own daughter’s wedding?”
That rendered her momentarily speechless. “Who told you I was getting married? I know damn well it wasn’t my mother.”
“I have a lot of friends in the Valley. A better question is: Who didn’t tell me?”
“And just to recap, you’re more upset about how this reflects on you . . . than the fact that you aren’t close enough to your family to be invited to your daughter’s wedding?”
His long-suffering sigh was interrupted by someone else speaking to him in Italian, a woman this time. Dalton responded to her in kind. Before he spoke again, Natalie knew she wouldn’t get a satisfying answer to her question. But she never could have expected what he said instead. “Is this what you want, Natalie? To force my hand?” A pause ensued. “Fine. Call off the wedding and I’ll release your trust fund.”
“You . . .” Natalie was immediately winded. “I don’t understand. Now y-you’re offering to release the money? What made you change your mind?” The ground seemed to be quaking beneath her feet, so she sat down on an overturned crate. “Is this only about saving face in Napa? You don’t even live here anymore, but you’re still worried people will think your daughter might be marrying for money?”
“Marrying a nobody for money,” he snapped in an ice-cold tone. “A nobody who is a laughingstock who doesn’t know a grape from an olive. Tying himself to my legacy.”
“Actually, it’s my legacy,” Natalie pushed through her teeth, anger sweeping through her at such an alarming rate, she almost fell off the crate. “My life.”
And she would be best served marrying August. Because she would hate herself for the rest of her life if she gave in, took the easy road, after Dalton had abandoned them. Without apology or regret. It was more than resentment that kept her from outright agreeing to take her trust fund in exchange for jilting August, though. She couldn’t quite describe the nausea that roiled in her stomach at the thought of calling off this wedding. Was she actually . . . excited to walk down the aisle, because of the man who would be waiting at the end?
No way she was going to answer that definitively. Not even to herself.
One thing she did know, this piece of work she called a father wasn’t going to insult a man who’d literally stopped in his tracks on the way out of town and stayed to help her.
Not a chance.
“And I’m sorry to disappoint you, Dalton, but it is a real marriage. August Cates is an incredible person, actually. Did you know he moved to St. Helena to open a winery in his friend’s name? His friend had this dream, but he died before he could fulfill it, so August is doing it for him. Yes, even though he’s awful at winemaking. I don’t expect you to understand integrity like that. You made wine because you wanted to be the best. He makes it to honor a friend. August . . . he listens to me and tries to understand me when I can barely understand myself most of the time. He wants me to believe in love. He said that. Out loud.”
She stood up and started to pace.
“He’s reliable. And funny. He’s one of the only people I’ve ever met who genuinely makes me laugh. I don’t have to fake it. And I care about him.” Oh God, was she really doing this? Marrying August for some indefinable reason when her ticket back to the East Coast was within her grasp? Yes. Yes, she was. “I’m not calling off the wedding in exchange for getting the money now. Your rules are bullshit, but apparently . . . I’m following them anyway. I’m marrying him.”
“My rules might be bullshit, but you’re going to wish you didn’t have to follow them. Turn down my offer and you’ll be obligated to convince Ingram Meyer that you’re not a couple of brazen cons—and believe me, it won’t be easy.”