Page 4 of Love You Truly

My eye catches on a plume of dust outside the window, indicating someone is driving up the unpaved road leading from the main highway.

Unlike most of the large wineries around here, I don’t get a lot of visitors because we don’t give tastings or tours. The only people who come up the drive are the workers who tend to the farmland, and they all finished their work hours ago, before the heat of midday.

There’s no reason for anyone to be here, and when I see the dark blue of a Mercedes sedan driving through the haze of dust, my stomach lurches. I know that car, if only because the man driving it was here a month ago talking to my parents before their most recent trip.

I nearly blew my top then, and I’m about to do it again now.

Rushing down the stairs of the clapboard house that doubles as our business office and the main entry of Autumn Lake Cellars, I shove the loose strands of my long hair behind my ears and attempt to tame them. I have a habit of twisting my hair into a bun and securing it with a pencil while I’m working, but by the end of the day, it’s a twirly mess.

Then I silently yell at myself for caring about how I look, especially in front of this man.

Yanking open the front door to the house, I see the dust settling around Felix Sutton’s too-expensive car. Then I see the man himself shove open the driver’s door and step out in his brown loafers and expensive suit.

I can’t believe I ever looked at him and found him remotely attractive. Now, I just want him off our property before he decides it’s his right to come any further.

His fake smile puts his overly white teeth on full display in the afternoon sun. They’re like bleached seashells that have been left outside for too long. “Mal,” he says, extending his hands.

I fold my arms over my chest and give him a blank expression like I barely know who he is.

He keeps advancing, and I hold my ground with my most agreeable face plastered on, unwilling to let him see how much he irks me because it only fuels him.

It’s a game we’ve played for years, ever since our yearlong marriage proved to be a massive case of me getting played. He wanted me for my family tree—my position as the only heir to my parents’ land fortune—and he was well-positioned to inherit half of what I inherit. Not anymore—thank you, divorce.

Basic stupidity on my part, thinking that love would last and he wouldn’t turn out to be a snake in the grass.

Now I’m business-savvy and done with love. Smarter outlook, if you ask me.

“You’re like a bad penny. Keep turning up,” I say without changing my facial expression. I wish I could take the high road and pretend his coming here doesn’t bug me, but I’m human. I’d like to turn on the hose and blast him off my property.

No, I’ll get rid of him more quickly if I listen to whatever bullshit thing he came here to say, nod politely, and turn him away.

He smiles as though I haven’t just insulted him. “Good to see you too.”

High road, one. Me, zero.

“Right. What’s up, Felix?”

He shrugs as though he’s thinking about what he wants to say. He always knows, so it’s a game.

Taking a step forward, he comes too close to me, daring me to step backward. But I don’t. I’m not giving him an inch. Arms still crossed, I look upward and meet his eyes, which are a sickly shade of green. Like algae. Or poison oak. I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before we were married.

Guess love really is blind.

Most people find him utterly charming, seeing his inside jokes and handsy behavior as a sign that they’ve reached the inner circle. Inner circle of hell, perhaps. But other people’s failure to read him is old news by now. It doesn’t surprise me that Felix Sutton breezes through life, pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. It’s just his way.

And yes, I fell for it too. Even before we started dating, he hovered close to me, massaged my shoulders, and put an arm around me in a slightly possessive way that I found harmless at the time. I even found it a little endearing.

Ugh.

“This is me coming with my hat in hand.” He extends his hand, but it contains no hat. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Why?”

He leans even closer to me. I inhale a lungful of his cologne, which has a musky top note that makes me shudder at the memory of being with him. I can see his pores, which seem larger than they should be for a normal person, but maybe it’s because he’s two inches from my face.

I take a step forward so abruptly that he pitches backward and nearly loses his balance. He gives up on the physical intimidation and starts walking in a circle on the driveway. I’m about one minute from calling the cops and having them clear him off my property.

“We oughtta mend fences. I know you’re not dumb, Mal. You see an opportunity when it presents itself, and I’m here. I’m an opportunity.”

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