“Since when do I frighten you?”
“You don’t, but all the questions, the unknowns—those do.” Her shirt bunched beneath her fisted hands. “Derek, why did you kiss me in my office? Why do you want to explore things with me? What do you really feel for me?”
She was asking him this, after he’d ended his engagement for her? After he’d risked everything for the chance to be with her? “Are you serious? I thought this was what you wanted.”
Her face hardened, and she scrubbed a hand over her mouth. “Maybe we should talk about this when we’re both a bit more rested. Things will seem clearer in the morning.”
Who needed sleep? Things were pretty clear right about now. Ashley Baker hadn’t meant it when she’d claimed to love him. Love wasn’t just words. It was action. And her actions spoke loud and clear about her priorities and where her heart really stood.
A least one thing did seem clear—if he really loved her, then he’d attached his heart to a woman who was going to keep stomping all over it. Dangling him on a fish hook. A fickle woman just like his mother, who had told her family how much she loved them.
But when push came to shove, she’d left them.
No thanks.
If this is what love did to people, then he’d be just fine with leaving it in the dust.
“I think we were just kidding ourselves, Ashley.” He gestured between them. “This would never work.”
With his coffee untouched and growing cold on the countertop, Derek pivoted and headed for the door, letting it slam behind him.
Chapter 16
It wasn’t often that a woman came face-to-face with complete and utter failure.
But for Ashley, today was that day.
Steeling herself and swallowing hard, she lifted a hand to knock on Kyle’s office door.
“Come in.”
She pushed open the door to find her boss tucked over his morning cup of joe, two donuts from the Frosted Cake sitting on a plate next to his computer mouse.
“Good morning.”
Kyle glanced up, lifting a bushy eyebrow in her direction. “Is it?”
Sighing, Ashley plopped into the chair opposite him. She wasn’t going to pull one over on him, not with her bloodshot eyes that on other people might indicate a hangover. Well, she was hungover in one respect—she’d drunk a double shot of regret last night and chased it with a pint of heartache.
She shouldn’t have gone to the print shop last night. Derek was completely right on that one.
But maybe, in the end, it was better to focus on helping Ben and Bella have their happily ever after than chase her own. After all, the man she loved couldn’t even tell her why he wanted to be with her.
“I thought this was what you wanted.” Like he didn’t want it too. Or, at the very least, like he didn’t know if he did.
Kyle cleared his throat, and Ashley was back in the present. “Sorry.” She forced a thin smile. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” Or at all.
Her boss studied her, then pushed the plate across the desk. “Looks like you could use this more than me.”
The apple fritter did look heavenly, and Ashley wouldn’t mind the sugar infusion to steady her nerves. After all, she’d come here for a reason. “Thanks.” Pinching a bit off the pastry, she stuck it in her mouth. The glaze melted on her tongue.
“Now, tell me why you’re here at this ungodly hour.”
She stole a napkin from the stack on his desk. “Eight o’clock is ungodly?”
“It is for you.” Her boss fiddled with the end of his mustache. “Are you here to tell me what exactly happened with the Boivin-Campbell wedding?”
He’d been scouting an out-of-town venue with a couple yesterday when she’d learned the news, so Ashley hadn’t had a chance to fill him in on the details yet—just told him that the wedding was canceled. He deserved the truth, especially because it would likely reflect poorly on him that his wedding coordinator had essentially broken up a bride and groom. But right now, her shattered heart couldn’t take telling him.
What she’d actually come to say would negate all of that anyway.
“No.” Ashley tugged at the paper napkin in her lap, which split neatly at the seams. “I wanted to let you know I don’t want the business anymore.” She grimaced as she glanced up. “Well, that’s not exactly true. It’s not that I don’t want it as much as I can’t handle it. You were right. I’m too busy. I … I just can’t give it the priority that Cathy’s legacy deserves.”
“Hogwash.” Kyle yanked the plate back to his side of the desk.
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to let you down.” To let everyone down.
The festival committee.
Madison and Shannon, friends who deserved more from her.
Then, the last straw—Ben and Bella, her family. If Ashley couldn’t be there for them, couldn’t show them love, then what did it matter if she achieved her own dreams?
“This is the only way.” Ashley reached for the plate again, stealing another bite of the fritter before Kyle tugged it out of her grasp. Eyeing him, she placed the sugar-laden treat in her mouth and swallowed.
There was no pleasure in being right.
Kyle frowned, then turned to the garbage and dumped the uneaten donuts off the plate and into the trash. “I don’t care if you don’t want the business.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a folder. “I already signed it over to you.”
“What?” Her stomach cramped as she reached for the folder, pulling it into her lap. “But we didn’t work out the payment plan.”
“Doesn’t matter. I was prepared to give it to my niece without a fee. Why not someone I hold in even higher regard?”
Ashley’s eyes stung as they pored over the papers in front of her—official documents naming her the owner of Whimsical Weddings & More. Her hands shook as she closed the folder and pushed it back across the desk. “I can’t accept.” He didn’t know the whole truth about Derek and Claire’s wedding. “I stole the groom.”
A smirk tweaked the side of Kyle’s mouth. “You don’t live in a town with Carlotta Jenkins and not hear a little gossip now and again. But I don’t believe for a second that you stole anyone. Mr. Campbell stopped by himself yesterday afternoon and cleared the whole situation up.”
“He did?” What did he say? The words stuck to the roof of her mouth like the fritter had moments before.
“Yes, and so I don’t blame you one bit. In fact, I applaud you for finally going after what you want. Now if they’d actually been in love, that might have been another story, but in this case, I believe all worked out as it should have.”
He didn’t know the half of it, and this didn’t feel like the right time to tell him. Instead, Ashley focused on the papers in her lap. “I’m glad you don’t think badly of me, but there’s more to this decision than just the situation with Derek.” Her finger slid lightly along the right edge of the folder. “I’ve failed a lot of people lately, just like you were afraid I would. And I’ve just realized that I can’t choose my dreams over them.”
Leaning back in his chair, Kyle folded his hands across his stomach. “That’s not exactly what I’d hoped you’d learn in all of this.”
“No?”
“I wanted you to learn that you can’t be all things to all people.”
“But what about my people?” Her bottom lip quivered. “I’ve let them down in some big ways.”
“And if they’re really your people, they’ll forgive you for your failings, just like you forgive them when they fail you.” Her boss tilted his head. “Think about this. How many of the things on your plate are actually all about being there for your people? Or are they more about feeling like if you don’t volunteer for this or help with that, you aren’t gonna be important to anyone? Because let me tell you something, little miss. That’s not how love works. Do you love other people for what they do for you?”
“Of course not.”
“And the same can be said ab
out you. Your sense of self-worth can’t come from what others think about you, because that’s always changing.”
She didn’t think that. But she couldn’t deny the extra burst of pleasure and relief she got when she did something for someone else—as if by doing so, she convinced herself they’d keep her around. “So where do we find it, then?”
Kyle took off his cowboy hat and scratched the top of his bald head. “You’ve gotta draw from somewhere deeper. Some find meaning in God, some just by looking within. All I know is that you have inherent value because you’re a human being, and you’re entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. So you should try leaning into that last one.”
“But what if what I want isn’t what others want?” She shoved the image of Derek away, because this … this went deeper than that.
“If those others are really your people, they’ll want you to be happy. Period.” Twirling his hat, Kyle set it on his desk with a thump. “And if they’re not, then who cares what they want? Those people aren’t worth your time and attention anyway. Those people will scoop you dry until you’re a hollowed-out well of a person with nothing left to give and no source to draw from.” He paused. “Those are not the people you should be sacrificing for.”
A tear leaked out from the corner of Ashley’s eyes and dripped onto the cream-colored folder. Because even though it wasn’t the first time she’d heard his words, this was the first time she’d heard the complete truth in them. She had striven her whole life to be what everyone else wanted and needed, but the people who really mattered had never asked her to do that. If she’d said no to any of them, they would have kept on loving her just as much as they always had.
As much as they were her people, she was theirs too.
And yeah, maybe she couldn’t include Derek in that anymore. But with or without him, her life, her soul held meaning simply because she had been created with inherent value and purpose. And for her, that purpose included helping people.
But it didn’t mean being a doormat.
She smiled, and this time, she didn’t have to force it. “You’re pretty wise, you know that?”
“You don’t get to be my age without learning a few things.” Kyle stared at her, a rare look of pride shining in his eyes. “And I’ve learned to trust my instincts. There’s no one else that would be better suited to carry on my Cathy’s legacy than you.”
Ashley swallowed hard. “That means the world. Thank you.”
He grunted. “Just calling it like I see it.” Behind him on the wall, the clock ticked loudly, its hands rounding toward eight-thirty. A new workday was about to begin. “So what’s it gonna be? Are you going to sacrifice all that you’ve worked for because you’re afraid people won’t love you if you don’t make time for the things they want you to make time for? Or are you gonna start saying no to the things that don’t matter and pursue the happiness coming to you?”
She closed her eyes for a brief second, imagined the possibilities, the future she held in her hands. Vaulting out of her chair, she circled the desk and hugged Kyle around the neck.
He patted her forearms with his large, rough hands. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes! It’s most definitely a yes.”
Chapter 17
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” Alex Rosche rose from the Campbells’ kitchen table and walked with Derek toward the front door.
Derek waved him off. “I appreciate you coming out on such short notice.” He eyed Alex’s dress slacks, button-up shirt, and tie. “And right after work too. On a Friday night.”
“Anything for my second family.” As the son of Millie, the Campbells’ long-time housekeeper and cook, Alex had been like a little brother running around the vineyard when they were all young. But the annoying, scrawny kid had actually grown up to be wicked smart and helpful. “And I know things aren’t what you’d hoped, but you did come up with some good ideas for recovery.”
Derek had hoped that, as the city’s financial analyst, Alex would be able to offer some extra insight into the vineyard’s money troubles. He should have brought the guy in before now, but pride had gotten in the way. Not anymore.
Because now that he’d put his focus back where it should be—not on women and weddings, but on saving the vineyard—he would do anything it took. Unfortunately, the reality of their financial position had been worse than he’d thought.
If he didn’t figure something out, by this time next year they’d have to sell off the vineyard, or at least part of it.
They reached the front door and Derek held out his hand to Alex. The guy shook it, then turned and headed toward his Corolla.
“What was Alex doing here?”
Derek shut the door and found Dad behind him leaning heavily on his cane. He’d had an infusion earlier today and looked ready to pass out.
“Nothing.” His fingers itched to help Dad to the couch, but his father would chafe under that kind of attention. Instead, Derek headed back to the kitchen, where he gathered up the papers scattered across the tabletop.
“I just didn’t know the two of you hung out that much. He’s always been more Heather’s friend than yours.”
Apparently Dad had followed him.
The papers crinkled under Derek’s hand as he stuffed them inside a folder. Derek sighed. Might as well tell Dad the truth. “I asked him to come over to do an assessment of our financials. We also chatted about some ideas I have for bringing in more revenue.”
“Such as?”
He deposited the folder into his dad’s available hand. “There are the smaller scale ideas, like renting out the cabins again. That used to bring in a nice tidy sum. I don’t know why Heather suggested we stop that in the first place. We could also look into getting licensed to hold events on-site. There’s some stupid city law right now, but I think they’d be a financial boon if we could get past that.” Pacing, he ran a hand through his hair. “We also could sell off part of the land if we were really desperate. I know that’s not ideal, but better to keep some of it if we can’t keep it all. Oh, and we can approach some other vineyards to see if they want to partner with us.”
Dad rapped his cane against the tile floor.
Derek froze, his gaze rounding on his father.
Shaking the folder, Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Son, why didn’t you run any of this by me before now?”
“You’ve had a lot going on.” Much as he’d been chasing down his to-do list around the vineyard, house, and town, Derek couldn’t have missed the very real toll dialysis had taken on his father. After a treatment, Dad slept for practically a full day—when he wasn’t tied to the toilet, that was. “I didn’t want to burden you.”
“Burden me? This is my business.”
“Yes, but …” He wanted to shake the stubbornness right out of his father. Biting back a groan, he beelined for the other side of the kitchen island where a pile of dirty dishes sat in the sink. Since he’d needed the kitchen after dinner and Millie had left early for a doctor’s appointment, Derek had volunteered to clean up the mess Heather and Mia had left after making tacos for the whole family. No time like the present.
“But what?”
Dad wasn’t going to like his answer. Derek flicked on the hot water, maneuvered around the dirty dishes to plug the sink, and squirted in some soap. “You’re not the only one who wants to save it.”
“Of course not.” His dad eased onto the barstool at the island. “But ultimately, it’s my responsibility.”
“It’s never just been your responsibility.” Picking up the scrub brush, he attacked the first plate. “You’re not the only one willing to do whatever it takes to save our home.”
The kitchen grew silent except for splashing water and grinding bristles against the ceramic plates. Then, “What are we talking about here, son?”
But Derek couldn’t tell him. It would break the man’s pride. “Nothing.” He dunked the plate into the soapy water, a bit of crusted-on refried beans clinging
stubbornly to the stoneware.
“You weren’t in love with Claire, were you?”
The plate slipped from Derek’s hand and shattered on the floor.
Great. Just great.
Derek glanced up at Dad, prepared to see condemnation in his eyes—or disappointment, at the very least. But instead, something like sadness rested there.
Sighing, he glanced down at the mess he’d created. “No, I wasn’t. I respected her and she respected me, but …” He shrugged.
“I never asked that of you, son.”
“You didn’t have to. Like I said. Whatever it takes.” Squatting, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the hand broom and dustpan. Then he turned and swept up the largest pieces of the plate he’d broken.
“I should never have let you do so much after your mother left.”
Derek peeked up.
Dad’s head was in his hands. “I thought it would help you, to give you a purpose, but I didn’t realize I’d actually given the impression that everything was on your shoulders.”
“What do you mean?” Frowning, Derek returned to the cleanup. He’d need to grab a vacuum, but that could wait. This conversation was too important to be interrupted. “You knew I was doing all of that?”
“Of course I knew. You were only ten years old. I would never have put that weight on you.” His dad’s voice rang with conviction. Then he barked out a staccato laugh. “I paid Jorge extra to give you some things to do, watch out for you, and redo anything you didn’t get right.”
“I had no idea.” Derek scooped the last visible bits of the broken plate into the dustpan and tossed them into the trash. “You were so torn up about Mom. I thought I was helping you.”
The bitterness of the truth settled in his mouth. Much as he’d tried to help, he’d really only been a nuisance to poor Jorge. The man was a saint to have put up with him back then.
He reached for the pan Heather had used to cook the taco meat, and the scent of the leftover spicy seasonings inflamed his nose.
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