Page 61 of Twin Babies For The Grump

Everyone nods in agreement with what Owen requested.

He turns to me and gives me a peck on the cheek, whispering, “Let me know if anyone bothers you.”

“Don’t worry, it looks like everything is under control,” I whisper back.

He stares at me a few seconds longer, as if to make sure that I mean it, and then gestures at Marco to follow him at the back of the winery.

“See, you have nothing to worry about,” says Adela, taking Owen’s spot next to me.

I’m grateful for both of them standing up for me and being by my side so nobody bothers me but at the same time I feel like I’m so weak and scared, and I hate that.

I’ve never needed anyone else to speak on my behalf or defend me for something that I didn’t even do, yet today I couldn’t utter a single word. I tell that to Adela as we make our way toward the vines. I want to inspect the section that she showed Marco a few days ago.

“That’s probably the hormones, honey. Your body is going through drastic changes, it’s normal to feel overwhelmed. Just take it slow. When’s the doctor appointment? I’m sure he’ll give you more tips on how to navigate this.”

“It’s this afternoon. God, I’m nervous about that too. I’ll see my baby!”

That thought is enough to put me in a better mood.

I work closely with Adela for the next few hours and fill her in on the move and Owen’s sister in the meantime.

“What about your family? When are you going to tell them?”

I sigh. “I will call them soon, maybe tonight after the appointment. You know how we’ve scattered around after my parents’ divorce, it’s not like we talk often.”

“It’s never late to change that, Tess,” Adela points out.

It’s not that I have a bad relationship with my parents and extended family. But I can’t say we are close either.

I don’t mind, or at least I think I don’t, but seeing the regrets Owen has when it came to his father… Or how nice it felt to speak with Tiffany. But what am I supposed to tell them? That my boss got me pregnant? Or worse, that my one-night stand got me pregnant? And what about the relationship status? Sure, we are together, but should I tell them he’s my partner? I can almost hear my father’s response.

Yeah, I do need to make those phone calls, right after everything else is cleared.

The next few hours pass uneventfully, aside from being notified by Brad, the front security of some reporters requesting entry to the estate. As per Owen’s order, we’d accept no one this week due to work processes requiring more privacy. Basically, he doesn’t want anyone snooping around in an effort to get some dirt on us.

Judging by the look Macy gives me any time we cross paths, she’d be more than glad to offer the reporters an elaborate recount of the events. I avoid having much interaction with her and by the end of the workday, I know that that was a bad decision.

While the news of my relationship with Owen was well received by everyone, Macy spent the whole day planting seeds of doubt about my character and motivations. There were whispers that stopped the moment I entered a room, or side glances that tried to decipher whether I was some sort of a whore.

I take my clipboard and start toward the bottling section. Blanc has found a nice sunny spot near the entrance while Tipsy is wandering around my periphery from the moment I returned to the main building.

Macy is leaning against one of the tables, speaking with one of the new cellar workers. She lifts her head just a bit and points in my direction. The other woman, who must be around my age, turns around to get a look and then says something to Macy, giggling.

Nope. I can’t let this situation fester or expect Owen to solve this for me. If I want to defend my title as manager, I need to manage Macy.

I force a smile and head over to the new hire.

“You must be Natalie, right?” I ask the young woman, my voice steady and firm.

Startled that I approached her, she rises to her feet almost knocking her chair to the ground.

“Yes, Miss Green. It’s my first day and I was getting the— I’m waiting for someone to tell me what to do.”

Sitting around, engaging in gossip, is not the best way to start a new job but I don’t share this thought out loud. I guide her to the section she is needed and make my way to my original destination.

Macy is not far behind me though. It’s like she’s itching for a fight. But I don’t know if I have it in me at the moment. Adela was right, it must be the hormones. It’s like my stomach twists and turns, demanding that I find a safe space.

“Manager, I need your assistance,” she says at last, accepting that she can’t walk as fast as I can in those heels. I’m surprised she can walk at all, actually.

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