Page 82 of Love You Truly

The last time I heard that word was when Felix told me my parents had saddled me with his irritating presence.

“And?” My voice shakes, and I cough to cover it.

“Felix Sutton is to be your partner in operating the vineyard for two full years, and as such, he’s due half the gross proceeds of Autumn Lake.”

He lets that sink in, and my stomach bottoms out. Half the gross profits means I won’t make a dime for two years after I factor in expenses. Felix is such a snake in the grass. Only a snake would ask for gross proceeds instead of net. He has me over a barrel, and I hate him all over again.

Harold holds up a finger. “If you do not require his services, you need to buy him out by bequeathing your entire first harvest as an operating entity to Mr. Sutton.”

“Bequeathing?” Suddenly, Felix is Julius Caesar?

But still, that gives me an out. If I have to give him every grape on the future vines at Autumn Lake, I’d do it to be rid of him. It would mean I’d have to wait a year to sell to the Corbett family, but hopefully, I can make Dash understand that.

Will he understand? He’s already sacrificed so much to be my husband.

“And the fact that I have a new husband doesn’t change any of that? I thought I just needed to be married in order to remove Felix from the equation.” Maybe there’s still room to salvage this.

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure where you got the impression that marriage was a prerequisite for inheriting.”

Wait, what?

“My mom said I needed to be married.”

He looks again at the documents. “I don’t see anything here that says so. Nor do I recall discussing it with either of your parents.”

He has to be mistaken. The whole reason my parents agreed to keep Felix around in a supervisory capacity was that they didn’t want me taking on the job of running the property alone. All that crap about needing a partner. My mother told me explicitly that I needed to be married.

Didn’t she?

I rewind the phone conversation I had with her when she explained why she’d made the deal with Felix. Then again when she came for dinner. I’m certain that she kept emphasizing marriage, but did she actually tell me it was part of the written agreement? And if it isn’t…do Dash and I need to stay married?

Harold Cotton begins reading the terms of the inheritance out loud, but I barely hear him. My head spins, considering the implications of what I’ve just learned.

I don’t need to be married.

Yet…I am married to a man I love. And after today, I’ll no longer be in need of his services. It should make me happy to be free of Felix and unencumbered by a man in general.

Instead, it just makes me sad.

I don’t go home right away. Instead, I call Mary, and she meets me at the Dark Horse. I make up an excuse about forgetting that she wanted to take me out for my birthday, and Dash tells me to go have a good time. He’s exhausted and will try to stay up, but I tell him not to worry if he nods off.

He’s been working his tail off forging new relationships with growers and trying to staff Buttercup Hill back up to capacity. Now that people feel secure that he’s not flirting with their wives, the number of meetings has tripled. It still bugs me that people are so small-minded, but it’s a small town, and everyone’s in everyone else’s business, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

Mary pulls into the parking lot just as I slam the door to my Jeep. I wait for her, and we walk in together.

A few minutes later, with two dark beers on our table, I can no longer contain myself and blurt out the news. “I don’t have to be married to inherit Autumn Lake.”

She takes a long draw from her beer and nods at the information. “So that’s a good thing, yes?”

I tell her the rest. “Bloody Felix,” she grumbles. “But that’s just money. You’ll be done with him in a year and moving on to do as you please.”

I want to nod. I want to hold up my glass and toast hers. I want to be the emancipated, strong female I’ve always believed myself to be.

Instead, I feel the pinpricks of tears at the corners of my eyes because I want all those things, but I also want Dash. “Dammit, I’m crying over a man. After Felix, I swore I’d never do that ever again.”

Letting out a long exhale, I glance around the bar to see who’s here to see me lose my shit. Fortunately, other than a couple of guys in motorcycle jackets with their backs to us at the bar, the only other people in the place are a large table with middle-aged couples who look like they’ve had a very long day on the wine trail. Yup, they’re sloshed and not paying a whit of attention to me and my tears.

“I already scanned the place. You’re good,” Mary says, taking another sip. Half her beer is gone, and she signals the bartender for two refills even though I haven’t touched mine.

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