Page 23 of Resolute

He looks at me intently, and I can see the wheels turning in his brain.

I lose my cool. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

Juan Carlos readjusts his position. I feel like I’m pulling teeth here. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk about what’s on his mind. Unless…something is terribly wrong. Does he think I’m an ogre?He barely knows me. Besides, I’m only an arsehole with my assistant.

“I love my job, Mr. Godoy,” he begins. “I love waking up every morning and knowing that my job helps create some of the finest wine in the world. I feel valued—not just by my peers, but also by your father. He’s involved in every single detail of the winemaking process, and he’s like a father to us.”

Juan Carlos takes a deep breath as he pulls at his shirt collar. Clearly uncomfortable for what he’s about to say. “And I guess we all are uncertain about the way things would be once your father retires. Please make no mistake, I love working here, but a big part of my job satisfaction is the environment your father has created for us.”

I give him a puzzled look, not really understanding where he's going with this.

“I mean no disrespect, but you live in London, and we don’t know if you’re willing to move here and manage the vineyard the way we’re used to.”

I cannot believe my personal life is what has my employees in a fit.

“Very well. Thank you for your honesty, Juan Carlos. If that’s all you have to say, you’re done here.”

Turning my attention to my computer, I dismiss him without a second glance.

“Um, okay. Thank you, Mr. Godoy. Have a good day.”

He leaves quietly, and I immediately grab my phone.

“Camila, I need you to cancel all of the meetings with the vineyard employees. Immediately.”

Before I can hang up, her voice cuts in.

“But Mr. Godoy, you just had your first one. Why are you going to cancel after only one meeting?”

I know she’s right. I shouldn’t be so quick to end this project. After all, this is what my father wanted. I just can’t be okay withemployees thinking they have a say in where or how I live my life.

“If you want, I can reschedule the rest of today’s meetings for a later date. I bet it’s a beautiful day in Alamo Peaks. Nothing like the gloomy and damp day here in London,” she says.

I glance at the camera feed, and for the first time today, I crack a smile. Camila is wearing what looks like a silk blouse with a floral pattern. I smile at the thought of her bringing her own vibe into the office. She’s not a grumpy, sour person like me. She sees the best in everything, and if there’s nothing positive to look at, then she creates it.

Taking a few calming breaths, I finally reply, “You’re right, Ms. Flores. Go ahead and clear today’s appointments. I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”

I was ready to storm out of this house, shouting like a crazy fuck, not caring who might see me. But this woman, who is over seven thousand miles away, was able to calm me down.

Incredible.

As I step out of the office and head toward the garage, my frustration shifts to curiosity.Why do people care whether I live here or in London?We’re here to make wine not to hold hands and dance in circles as we tell each other how much we care about one another.

I need some air.

Good thing Camila suggested I take the day off because I need to clear my head—and I know just the place.

Stepping into the garage, I smile at the first car I spot.

It’s an old Chevy truck my father used to drive around the vineyard.

I wonder if it still works.

When I open the door, I’m pleasantly surprised to see the key in the ignition. The moment I turn it on, the truck roars to life, and a sense of calm and happiness washes over me.

I start driving without really knowing where I’m going—just happy to enjoy the views of the Andes mountains and the wind hitting my face.

Before I know it, I find myself parking at my sister’s vineyard. Well, I guess there’s no time like the present to spend some time with her.

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