Page 4 of Married to the Frenemy

“Just tell me. What’s your asking price?”

“I’m not only selling the land. I’m also selling the years I put into cultivating these vines.”

“I understand that.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and widen my stance. “What are you asking? You have fifty acres plus on-site processing, cellar, and tasting room. And the house I’ve been living in. I’m guessing five million.”

“Seven and a half.”

I run a hand through my hair, blowing out a subtle laugh. While I’m in a better financial position than most people my age, thanks to my lack of personal relationships and Grady giving me a share of the profits every year since I became head winemaker, I still don’t have that much money.

“Would you take five?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling another long breath. “I worried this might happen.”

“What? That I’d want to buy this place so someone doesn’t come in and ruin it?”

“I’d love to sell to someone who will treat the land with the same care and respect as we have.”

“Then what’s the problem? Other than the fact that I’m severely low-balling you?”

He waves me off, as if that has nothing to do with it. “When your father was sick, I swore I’d always look out for you. Especially after…everything.”

“And you have. You gave me a job when no one else would. Taught me more about wine than I would have ever learned in college.”

This vineyard has been more than just a job to me — it’s been my home ever since Grady hired me, giving me a chance no one else would. He’s taught me everything he knows about running a successful winery. Even sent me to vineyards all over the west coast and Europe to learn different wine making techniques that I could use to make our product even better.

For the past thirteen years, this vineyard has been my life. I can’t stomach the idea of someone destroying it.

“I gave up a lot to keep this vineyard running,” Grady continues. “Owning your own business, having people depend on you, it can be extremely stressful. For years, I lived and breathed this place. Hell, I still do.”

“And it shows in the wine you’ve created.”

“But because of that, I missed out on a lot of other things.” His words are laced with regret.

“Like what?” A sinking sensation forms in my stomach.

“A wife. Kids.”

“Grady, I?—”

He holds up his hand. “I kept telling myself I’d get around to it when things slowed down. But things never did. Here I am, a seventy-six-year-old man with nothing to show for it.”

“What are you talking about? You have plenty to show for it. Your wine is consistently ranked among the best varietals every year. And each release gets better and better.”

“There was a time when I thought that was all that mattered. But you know what they say. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, and all that.” He approaches me, gently squeezing my bicep. “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. Don’t want you to miss out on having everything you deserve. If I sold you this vineyard, I fear that’s precisely what would happen. You’d end up just like me. Old and alone.”

“You’re not alone,” I argue. “You’ve been a part of my family for as long as I can remember. Plus, your employees love you.”

“I have no one to share my life with. I don’t want that to be you. Your father wouldn’t have wanted that to be you, either.”

I don’t say anything for several protracted moments, speechless not only over the idea of him selling, but also the fact he won’t sell to me because he’s worried I’ll miss out on certain things.

Things I don’t even want.

Maybe I did once upon a time. Once dreamed of having a wife and kids.

Not anymore.

“I’ll let you get back to the tanks,” Grady says. “I just wanted to let you know.”

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