Page 98 of Bitter Rival

Callie smiles. “He is. Being with him again…” She sighs. “It only reinforced what I already knew. No one could ever compare to him. No one has even come close. But I think we both needed some time to grow up.”

“He seems like a good guy,” Hunter says. “He gets my seal of approval.”

“No offense to Ian because I totally agree,” I say, my gaze swinging to Hunter. “But is there anyone you don’t like?”

Callie laughs. “Fair point.”

Hunter is the nicest guy in the world and never has a bad word to say about anyone.

“I don’t like everyone,” he protests. “But I don’t actively hate anyone either. You never know what someone is dealing with, so I try to give people the benefit of the?—”

“There she is. Hello, my dear.” My gaze snaps to Harold who stops on the opposite side of the table and mops his brow with a handkerchief. He looks like a character in a Tennessee Williams play in his linen suit and snow-white hair.

“Hey, Harold.” I force a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d swing by and see how you’re doing. Where’s Beckett today?” His gaze scans the grove like he’s expecting Beckett to pop out from behind a tree and yell Surprise!

Leave it to Harold to choose the one day Beckett isn’t here to pay us a surprise visit.

“Oh. Beckett is…meeting with restaurant and wine bar owners.” I cross my fingers under the table and pray that no one calls me out for the blatant lie I’ve just told.

Neil chimes in from the other end of the table. “He’s been working hard to ensure that the Heyward Estate wines are available in every establishment in Sutton Ridge and beyond.”

“You don’t say,” Harold says, tucking his handkerchief in his pocket. “Well, I’m glad to hear he’s taking an interest.”

I give Neil a grateful smile. He returns it with a conspiratorial wink like we’re in this together.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch,” Harold says with a pleasant smile aimed at me. “But may I borrow you for a few moments? This won’t take long.”

“Of course. I’ve finished eating.” When I stand, it’s the cue for the whole table to get to their feet.

I join Harold, and we take a little stroll through the orchards.

I love that I can reach up and grab a juicy peach right from the tree. I grab two and hand one to Harold, hoping that it will sweeten him up.

I don’t trust him, and I’m not his biggest fan, but there’s no point in alienating him when we’re so close to the finish line, so I’ll play nice.

“I’ll save mine for later,” Harold says as I take another bite of my peach, and juice dribbles down my chin. “So, how have you been getting on, my dear? Are you enjoying your time on the vineyard?”

I take three more bites of the peach and toss the pit, wiping my sticky hands on my T-shirt and nodding. “I’m having the time of my life.” And it doesn’t even feel like a lie.

“Good. Good.” He rocks back on his heels and strokes his whiskered jaw. “I heard an interesting rumor the other day.”

My shoulders tense, but I force a smile and keep my tone light. “Oh? What’s the word on the street?”

Harold loves to drag things out, so he starts walking again, his thumbs hooked in his suspenders, and I dutifully fall into step, wishing he’d just get to the point already.

It’s not until we reach the lane that leads from the winery to the house that he finally speaks. “I heard Beckett is looking to sell this place to his uncle.”

His uncle?

I wasn’t even aware that Beckett had an uncle. Harold must be confused. “I can assure you that’s just idle gossip.”

“Hmm. Maybe I was mistaken.”

He sounds casual enough, but I know better than to think this conversation is over. Harold is a lawyer by trade, and I’ve never met a lawyer I could trust.

We follow the lane to the driveway where his Mercedes is parked, and when we stop next to his car, I’m on edge, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

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