Page 94 of Married to the Frenemy

Just as I throw the mixing bowl into the sink and soak it in some water, there’s a knock on the door.

A glimmer of hope builds inside me that it’s Beckham. Would he knock, though? After yesterday, he might.

But as I check the peephole, my expression falls when I see Grady standing outside.

“Grady, hey,” I greet, opening the door. “Beckham’s not here.”

“I know. He was in his lab before the sun rose this morning.”

“Then why?—”

“I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment. I won’t be long.”

“Of course.” I grit a smile, feeling equal parts guilty and angry.

Guilty about lying to him.

Angry that he’s now refusing to sell the vineyard to Beckham because of it. I didn’t take Grady for the type of person who’d hold something like this against him.

Maybe I was wrong.

“Come on in.” I step back, allowing him to enter, the unsteady rhythm of his cane echoing as he walks.

“Hiya, Mr. Grady,” Maggie says when he enters the kitchen.

“Hey, cutie. Did your mom make you pancakes?”

“She did.” Her brow furrows. “Can you give Beck tomorrow morning off from work so he can be home for breakfast? I don’t like it when he’s not here when I wake up in the morning.”

It takes everything I have to prevent the tears that are about to break free, especially when I see the look of sympathy on Grady’s face.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says sweetly.

“Thanks.”

“Maggie, why don’t you run upstairs and get dressed for school while I talk to Mr. Grady?”

“Okay, Mama.” She slides off the barstool at the kitchen island and runs up the stairs.

Once I hear her door close, I turn to Grady. “It was my idea,” I tell him without giving him a chance to say anything.

“What are you talking about?”

“The fake marriage. If you want to take it out on anyone, take it out on me. Not Beckham. This vineyard is his life. It’s why he went so far as to get married. I know you care about him and don’t want him to miss out on anything, but please reconsider, Grady. This vineyard has always been the one good thing in his life. Don’t take that away.”

He gives me a quizzical look, tilting his head slightly as he leans on his cane. “What makes you think I would?”

His response catches me off guard. “He came home yesterday for lunch and told me you would no longer be selling to him.”

Grady chuckles, shaking his head ruefully. “I always said that boy would make a good lawyer,” he remarks with a hint of fondness. “He has a knack for phrasing things a certain way so it’s not a complete lie, but not exactly the truth, either.”

I furrow my brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The reason I’m no longer selling to him is because he rescinded his offer.”

“He…did?” I blink repeatedly. “Why would he do that?”

A million different scenarios run through my brain, but all I can hear are the words he couldn’t say last night. Was he really so desperate to get rid of me that he retracted his offer in order to do so?

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