Page 2 of Vineyard Dreams

“I’m honored to receive this award. It’s something I’ve dreamt of all my life, but getting the chance to bring Lena’s story to the world, to shed light on a heroine from a time when it meant risking everything... that, more than any award, is the greatest honor of all. Thank you.”

A roar of applause erupted, the crowd rising to its feet. Harper stood tall, basking in the moment, hoping that she would never forget it.

As she stepped back from the microphone, she caught Evelyn’s eye again. Evelyn was on her feet, applauding, her face filled with emotion.

Harper smiled down at her. When she thought of what Hollywood looked like when she’d arrived twenty years ago, she could hardly believe all of the women who had come out since, including herself, including Evelyn, and she had a feeling thatLenawould be remembered as a classic.

If she never acted another day in her life, she could be happy, because she was almost certain that another performance, another script like that, would never come her way. It had truly been a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and even though she felt like she lost a bit of herself to that movie, it was the proudest she’d ever been as an actress.

2

Elle eased her pickup truck to a stop, the gravel crunching beneath its wheels. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the unfamiliar vehicles lining her normally quiet road. Sleek sedans and vans with tinted windows stood out like sore thumbs against the rural backdrop. As she climbed out of her truck, the unmistakable glint of lowered camera lenses caught her attention.

A knot of tension formed in her stomach as Elle unlocked the front door and stepped inside. She moved to the living room window, peering out from behind the gauzy curtains. The men lounged against their vehicles, an air of boredom about them. Expensive cameras dangled from their necks.

As she watched, one of them glanced toward her house, and Elle instinctively took a step back. Were they paparazzi? But why here, in this quiet corner of wine country?

After spending another few minutes watching them, her stomach rumbled, reminding her of why she was home. She moved to the kitchen and made a quick sandwich.

But after she’d eaten, Elle was back in her living room. They were still there. An hour had passed since she’d first spotted thestrangers, yet their presence continued to gnaw at her. It was more of a nagging curiosity now.

Unable to resist, she found herself drawn back to the window. Her fingers drummed against the windowsill as she weighed her options. The urge to confront them warred with her desire for privacy. But as the minutes ticked by, Elle realized she couldn’t ignore them any longer. She had to get back to work, and she wanted to make sure that they would be gone by the time she got back in the evening.

With a determined set to her shoulders, Elle marched out to her truck. The engine roared to life, and she drove down the winding driveway. She pulled up alongside the parked vehicles.

Elle took a deep breath, steeling herself before she stepped out. Her boots hit the ground with purpose, her demeanor outwardly calm despite the irritation simmering beneath the surface. She approached the group, her eyes scanning their faces and the expensive camera equipment slung around their necks.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Elle asked, her tone polite but firm. She met their gazes steadily, refusing to be intimidated.

The older of the photographers shrugged, his nonchalance grating on Elle’s nerves. “Just parked alongside the road, ma’am. Not bothering anyone.”

Elle’s eyebrow arched as she gestured to their cameras. “Sightseeing?” The sarcasm in her voice was hard to miss.

A younger photographer shifted nervously, avoiding her gaze. “Hoping to get a few photos of Harper Reeves,” he mumbled.

Surprise flickered across Elle’s face. “The actress?” she asked, her mind racing. What connection could the Hollywood star possibly have here?

The older photographer nodded, a smug smile playing at his lips.

Elle’s patience thinned. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. Ms. Reeves isn’t here.”

“We’ll take our chances,” the man replied, his tone dismissive. “Just waiting a while longer.”

Elle’s jaw clenched. “This is private property. I’d appreciate it if you moved along.”

The photographer’s smirk widened, setting Elle’s teeth on edge. “We’re on the road, ma’am. Perfectly legal.”

Elle felt her frustration mounting. She had hoped they would simply pack up and leave, but it was becoming clear that a more forceful approach was needed.

Taking a deep breath, Elle fixed the lead photographer with a steady gaze. “Would you like to debate that with my husband? He’s a local police officer, and I’m sure he’d be more than happy to explain the finer points of trespassing laws.”

The effect was immediate.

Elle watched as uncertainty flickered across their faces, replacing the previous cockiness. The photographers exchanged glances, their bravado visibly deflating. Without another word, they began packing up their equipment, casting wary looks in her direction.

Elle stood her ground, arms crossed, as they climbed into their vehicles. The sound of engines starting filled the air, and one by one, they pulled away from the roadside. She didn’t move until the last car disappeared around the bend, leaving only a trail of dust in its wake.

As silence settled back over her property, Elle felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She shook her head, amused by her own deception.

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