Page 22 of Bitter Rival

Time to grow up, Daisy.

CHAPTER NINE

Daisy

I enlisted everyone’s help with the party and extended the guest list to employees’ friends and family. The more the merrier.

The tasting room opens to a limestone terrace dotted with whitewashed tables on the hilltop overlooking the vineyard.

Oak barrels are stacked against an interior glass wall, affording a view of the cellar below with a long oak bar spanning one wall and high-tops scattered around the room.

It’s the perfect party venue and the view is spectacular enough without having to go crazy with decorations. So, I spent most of the budget on food and alcohol, which is all you really need for a good party.

That, and some good music. Though I’m not sure how good the DJ will be since he agreed to work for free beer. But he was the only one we could find on such short notice, so we’ll have to make the best of it.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Hunter says as he heads to the parking lot.

“I’ll save you a dance,” I call over my shoulder.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

I’ve been working on the vineyard all day and I’m already anticipating how good a hot shower will feel as I weave through the orchard and pluck black cherries off the tree, savoring the explosion of sweetness on my tongue before spitting the seeds onto the ground.

In the distance, Crayola-bright hot air balloons gently lift into the blue sky and float over the patchwork of vineyards, and I stop to watch, marveling at the postcard-perfect view.

Running a vineyard is hard work but living on one is magical.

I don’t think Beckett appreciates how special this place is, and I still have no idea how to convince him to keep it. But since I’m almost certain that’s why I’m here, I’ll need to find a way.

I follow the sound of voices and laughter to the terrace where Beckett is playing host to one other man and two brunettes.

I have no idea who his guests are because he didn’t mention anything to me. Not that I expected him to.

Over the past week, he’s made it clear that he’d prefer to spend as little time with me as possible.

Every time I think we’re making progress, he proves me wrong. It’s one step forward and ten steps back with this guy.

Fine by me. I’d rather hang out with Hunter and Callie anyway. At least they don’t treat me like I’m a parasite.

I’m still kicking myself for offering as much information as I did. How could I have actually believed he would call a truce and be nicer if I told him the truth?

Knowing him, he’ll knock himself out to find Astrid just to spite me. Although I doubt that he’ll have much luck or that she’d ever come back here.

She’s moved on to bigger things, and I made it very clear that I would go hungry and homeless before I’d ever agree to be her partner in crime.

Beckett is leaning in close to the woman on his right, listening intently with a smile on his face. His smiles are so infrequent that it’s the first time I’ve noticed the dimples in his cheeks.

He’s wearing a blue linen button-down with the cuffs rolled up to expose his veiny forearms, and his dark hair is tousled to perfection.

Why does he have to look so good?

It’s lucky I’m not attracted to him. If I ever find myself veering in that direction, all I have to do is run through a mental list of all the things that make him insufferable, and just like that, he’s not looking so hot anymore.

They all look up as I approach and I feel like an interloper or, more accurately, the fifth wheel. “Don’t mind me. I’m just on my way to the shower.”

The other man stands, a small smile playing on his lips. He looks like someone who would be friends with Beckett, but friendlier and nicer with chestnut hair and preppy good looks.

“You must be Daisy. I’m Grayson, a friend of Beckett’s. This is Jessica.” He gestures to the woman sitting next to him and then to the woman next to Beckett. “And Lauren.”

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