by Jill Sanders
The only questions remaining were about finances. Hers, not the businesses.
“You have such a wonderful place here. You’ve built up an amazing business,” she said when they had sat back down on the front porch of the home.
“Thank you,” the Davidsons said together.
She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “I guess the last thing to discuss is price. Marcus didn’t mention one.”
The couple looked at each other. “He filled us in on your… predicament.”
She nodded. “I’ll receive my inheritance at the end of next month.”
They nodded. “We initially determined that we wouldn’t be ready to sell until the spring.” Grace’s heart dropped. Charles leaned forward and glanced at his wife, who smiled and nodded. “But I think we’ve changed our minds, on your behalf.” He pulled out a thick envelope and handed it to her. “Look over those numbers, then come back tomorrow night for dinner, around six, and we can discuss the arrangements.”
She held the envelope to her chest and nodded. “Thank you.” She shook both of their hands and then followed Alan back down the road towards his Jeep.
“Well?” he asked after they were sitting in the Jeep. “What do you think?”
She closed her eyes and let out a quick squeal. Alan laughed, and she turned towards him.
“If this works out, remind me to give Marcus a huge kiss.”
Alan’s eyebrows shot up. “As long as I get one too.”
She leaned over and gave him one, squishing the envelope between them. “You deserve more than just one.”
“How about some dinner? I know this great Cajun place.”
“I could eat.” Her fingers itched to open the envelope.
“Go ahead.” He nodded to the package. “We’ve got a ten-minute drive.”
She smiled and opened the envelope as he drove away from her dream property.
Choctaw Winery was stable. Very stable. From what she could see at a quick glance, the package included the latest profit and loss numbers that Carrie had shown her.
There was so much more in the folder full of reports, it would take her all night to look over everything. She was eager to jump into it.
“So?” Alan asked after he parked in front of the restaurant.
She tucked everything back into the envelope and smiled. “It looks good so far.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard good things. They were one of the top five businesses in the area last year.”
“Do you buy the reason they are leaving? I mean, it’s hard for me to swallow that someone would want to leave a successful business to travel.”
Alan leaned back in the seat and reached over to play with a strand of her hair. The simple motion had her knees going weak. She was thankful she was still sitting down.
“Sure, lots of people do strange things for different reasons. Have you ever been to Italy?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Ever wanted to go?”
“Well, sure, but…” She shrugged.
“Sounds like they’ve waited a lifetime for the trip.”
She thought back to the first time she’d met him and the conversation he’d been having with his commander.
“You left your home and moved here,” she said, biting her lip. His hand stilled in her hair, but then he slowly nodded.
“Yes,” he finally said.
“You had your own reasons for leaving home, coming to a new place.” He nodded again. “Reasons why you don’t want to go back to what you used to do.”
He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. His hand dropped away from her hair.
“I didn’t mean… to pry,” she said softly.
His eyes opened as he shifted towards her. “I have a long list of reasons for my move here years ago.”
“I… I’m sure you do. Maybe someday…”
His eyebrows rose, and a smile played at the edges of his mouth. “How about we find a nice dark booth in a quiet corner inside and I’ll tell you?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you… do you think you’re…”
He reached over and pulled her closer to him. “Grace, in case you didn’t get the subtle hints I’ve been sending, yes, I want you to know all about me, as I much as I want to know all about you.”
She held her breath as he leaned closer to her and rested his lips softly over hers.
* * *
Opening up to Grace over dinner wasn’t as hard as he had imagined. He’d spent the last ten years keeping things to himself. Secrets were meant to stay unspoken.
But after a bowl of seafood gumbo, he started at the beginning and finished with the story of meeting Wendy and deciding to follow her to the Boardwalk Bar and Grill.
“So, you were Special Forces?”
“RECON. MAGTF,” he said, and when he noticed she had no idea what he was talking about, explained further. “Marine Air-Ground Task Force.”
“Oh.” She nodded then took another sip of her wine. “Which does what?”
He chuckled. “Basically a range of all military operations. Anything hard that needs to be done, we did it.”
“So, secret missions?” He nodded. “Was it dangerous?”
He shoved his empty bowl aside. “Yes.”
She reached over and took his hand in hers. “I’m sorry.”
“For?” He tangled his fingers with hers and enjoyed how the slender digits felt in his.
“I don’t know. You get this sad look whenever you talk about it.”
He closed his eyes and rested back, dropping her hand. “I lost some friends.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
He looked at her, sitting across from him in the darker booth. She looked so… perfect. Her hair was a little messed from the windy drive, but still, she was perfect.
“After, that mission… I told myself I would never allow myself to be put into that kind of position again.”
“So, you quit and moved here?”
“Not at first. I tried to stick around my hometown. But going home after… it just didn’t… I couldn’t do it.”
“Too slow?” she asked. “Alan, I’ve seen you work.” She smiled. “You don’t even take a moment to breathe. You live for the rush, for the speed.”
He thought about it. “Slow days used to kill me,” he joked.
“I bet they did. There might be slow days, if you come to work with me.”
As they had toured the winery, he’d wondered where he would fit in. There were tour guides that acted as bartenders at the end of each tour. He could imagine himself sliding into one of those positions or as manager. After all, he enjoyed being a bartender because he loved interacting with people. He may not like managing, but he was good at it.
Then he thought about being close to her, filling his free time with Grace, and his smile grew.
“Something tells me there would be plenty I could do.” He took her hand again.
When he dropped her off at her place, he knew that her mind was already deep in the numbers. He wished more than anything for her to ask him inside, but he knew she had too much homework to do before tomorrow night’s dinner.
“I’ll rearrange my schedule and pick you up around five,” he said as he walked her to her front door.
“Sounds good.” She tucked the envelope closer to her chest. “Thank you, Alan, for everything.”
They stopped outside the door. He pulled her closer and gently cupped her face, letting his fingers tangle in her hair. “Grace,” he said softly, before laying his lips over hers again.
When her body melted against his, he knew that if he didn’t lean back now, he’d wind up begging her to ask him inside.
“Goodnight.” He turned to go, but a gasp from her stopped him. “What?” His eyes moved to where she was staring.
Her front door was jarred open. The door handle hung from the splintered wood.
“Get in the Jeep.” He shoved her behind his body. “Call 911.”
<
br /> “Alan,” she started to say.
“Go.” He nudged her down the short pathway as he disappeared into the dark house.
13
Alan let his eyes adjust to the darkness as he listened for any sound. Instantly, he knew the place was empty. Flipping on the lights, he groaned at the destruction.
Hearing a gasp behind him, he turned and took Grace by the shoulders and ushered her back outside.
“I told you to call 911,” he said.
“Someone broke in,” Grace whispered. He could see the shock in her eyes.
Pulling out his phone, he punched the number himself. He helped her back into the Jeep as he talked to the dispatcher.
Half an hour later, the patrol car left. They stood in her destroyed living room as Marcus, Cole, and Luke walked in.
“Shelly’s waiting in the car. You can stay at our place tonight.”
“I… couldn’t put you out,” Grace said, putting the cushion back on the sofa.
“Nonsense,” Shelly said from the doorway. “Come on, we’ll pack an overnight bag and let the men clean things up.” Shelly took her by the elbow and led her back into the bedroom.
Alan knew things were even worse back there, but started righting the front room as Grace packed a bag.
“Got any ideas who might be behind this?” Cole asked as they cleaned up.
“Maybe.” He thought about Grace’s family. But then he remembered she hadn’t even told them where she was. Still, how hard was it for someone with unlimited funds to find out? “It’s worth looking into at least,” he said to himself.
“What is?” Grace asked from the doorway, a backpack tossed over her shoulder.
“Nothing.” He walked over and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll pick you up at Shelly and Marcus’ place tomorrow instead.”
“No, I’ll walk back over here. Shelly says they live less than a mile from here.”
He nodded, then watched her leave with Shelly.
“Okay, spill,” Marcus said once the women were gone.
“Grace’s family,” he suggested as he righted the coffee table.
Nothing major was broken, which was good for the owner. Things were just tossed around. Grace had already checked that everything was still there. Even her laptop had been untouched, which told him that whoever had done this had only wanted to scare her.
“They’re the ones who rushed her from here last time?” Luke asked.
“Yeah.” He decided he had his own homework to do that night.
It took them almost an hour to put everything back in place. There wasn’t even a chipped plate or a scratch on the furniture. It was as if someone had taken the time to make sure things looked a lot worse than it was.
When he got home, he pulled out his computer and got to work researching her family for the second time, this time, digging deeper into her brothers’ lives and her family’s power in the industry.
He was discouraged when he finally shut his laptop down and crawled into bed. He’d never realized just how influential her family was. Not only did they wield power in the bourbon circles, but her father was deep in Kentucky politics, which had ties all the way up to the Senate and White House.
The Hamiltons were immersed in old money and powerful friends.
The following morning, he made a few calls before heading out to her place. He figured the less she was left alone, the better.
When he showed up, he knocked but didn’t hear anyone moving inside. He knew from Marcus that Grace had left to walk home more than three hours earlier.
Worry flashed quickly, until he texted her and got a reply back instantly.
-I’m down at the restaurant on the corner having lunch, care to join me?
-Be there in a min.
When he parked out front, he noticed a dark-haired man leaning against the outside post, smoking as he watched Grace.
Alan sat in the Jeep for a moment, making sure he was seeing correctly.
The man was out of Grace’s view, since she had her back to the window. He could clearly see her at the table, looking over the paperwork with her laptop open beside her.
Alan’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man toss his cigarette down. Instead of leaving, he crossed his arms over his chest as if he was expecting to spend the rest of the day watching her.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked after getting out of the Jeep.
The man blinked and glanced his way. “Sure, just taking in the view.” The man turned back towards the restaurant.
Alan leaned on the post. “Are you on vacation?” he asked.
The man looked annoyed briefly, then smiled. “Yes, you?”
“Nope.” Alan glanced around, then leaned closer to the man. “Here by yourself?”
The man shifted away, his eyes running up and down Alan. Alan wanted to smile, but instead, narrowed his eyes and tried to act interested.
“I don’t… I’m not…” The man straightened up and shook his head as he walked away.
Alan smiled at the man’s back and waited until he climbed into a car, then memorized the make and model along with the license plate before walking in to meet Grace.
* * *
Grace had been thankful for Marcus and Shelly’s hospitality. It had been late when she’d arrived, and Shelly had shown her to their guest room. Their daughter, Rose, had hung on Shelly’s hip sleepily.
Their house was beautiful. Shelly explained that Marcus had remodeled the place when they had moved in.
She told Shelly that she was tired and locked herself in the room. Tears disappeared almost immediately when Alan texted her that everything was back to normal and that nothing looked broken or damaged.
She took her mind off of the break-in by scouring over the paperwork from the Davidsons. She didn’t know how long she’d looked at the numbers but must have fallen asleep pretty quickly thanks to the sound of waves outside her window. She woke before the sun and instantly returned to the numbers.
Shelly had insisted she help look over the numbers during breakfast. Grace hadn’t realized that Shelly owned a boutique along the boardwalk.
The woman was a wiz when it came to business numbers. She pointed out a few things to Grace that she hadn’t seen herself.
When she asked Shelly’s opinion, she was surprised at the honesty that had followed.
“There are a few pluses and negatives. I’ll tell you the negatives first.” She had shifted the sleepy baby in her arms and something deep in Grace had ached at the slight movement. “Any business in today’s markets is risky. Taking over a business doesn’t assure that you’ll continue the success of the previous owners. Wineries have reputations that follow owners.”
“I’ve thought of that as well.” She bit her lip in thought.
“And there’s always the possibility of another dip in the markets. I know a few years back, they took a hit when things sunk low.” She motioned towards the stack of papers. “Luckily, they had planned ahead for instances like that. Which means, one of the first things you’d have to do is start your own planning, stashing away extra profits for the first few years.”
Grace sighed. “I’ve thought of that too.”
“Okay, now to the positives.” Shelly smiled. “You have your family name and reputation, even if they don’t fully back you. No one needs to know that bit of information.” Grace had thought of that as well. “You’ll never get another opportunity like this, taking over a fully operational winery for that price.” She nodded to the amount that had been printed on the offer the Davidsons had drawn up.
“I had a few other properties in the running. Two had vines and the right facilities, but needed almost half of my inheritance for repairs.” She thought back to the lists she had made of repairs that would have to be done to each one. “The others I would be starting from scratch.”
Shelly smiled. “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”
Grace felt the weight lift from her shoulders. “I have.�
� She smiled. “Now, I just need to figure out what I’m going to live on after I spend every dime I have to get my dream land.”
After breakfast, she’d walked down the beach until she hit her street and then walked home. It had been strange, walking into the place, knowing how it had looked the night before.
If she didn’t know better, she would have never guessed that someone had destroyed the place. Still, as she showered and dressed, she couldn’t lose the feeling of being exposed. So, after dressing, she grabbed her laptop and the folder and headed down the street to the restaurant to work.
Being surrounded by strangers was a lot better than being alone in a house that spooked her.
When she arrived, she inwardly groaned as she noticed the dark-haired man at the end of the bar.
The guy’s smile doubled when he noticed her. Thinking quickly, she sat down at the corner table with her back towards the bar and opened her laptop and tried to look busy.
“Hey.” The man walked over and sat down in the empty chair.
“I’m waiting for someone,” she lied.
“I won’t be long.” The man leaned closer. “You smell nice this morning.”
She felt her skin crawl. “I’m sorry, I have work.” She nodded to her laptop as the waitress made her way towards them.
“I was going to head out. I charted a fishing boat today, if you want…”
“I have work.” She motioned to her laptop once more.
“Well if you change your mind…” He set a napkin down by her hand. “That’s my cell.”
She ordered an ice tea and set the sweaty drink down on the napkin, smiling as the man’s name and number blurred with the moisture.
Half an hour later, Alan texted her.
When he walked in and sat beside her, she relaxed for the first time since leaving Marcus and Shelly’s place.
“How’s it going?” he asked, reaching over and taking her hand.
“Good.” She let her eyes run over him. He was wearing khaki shorts and a button-up shirt with flip-flops. The man looked good in casual wear.
“Shelly texted me and told me you left. I thought you might like some company.”
“Yes.” She reached over and laid her hand over his.