Page 12 of My Three Rivals

“I’m just saying, maybe youshouldthink about selling. Your grandma wouldn’t want to know how much stress this place is causing you, Tegan. Adelaide loved you too much for that.”

I shook my head so vehemently, my loose bun fell fully out, releasing my waves over my shoulders. Flipping the strands away from my face, I reclaimed my place in front of Bizzy and smiled fuzzily. “Don’t you get it, though? This is the only place that ever gave me peace, Bizzy. I have to save it.”

I paused, remembering. “Gran would call Will up and order him to bring me here, and he would—just like that. It was the only time I ever heard Will do what a woman told him.”

“Yeah, your dad was kind of a misogynist. May he rest in peace.”

“Kind of?” I wrinkled my face. “The man was a royal asshole. You can say it.”

“I try not to speak ill of the dead,” Bizzy muttered, embarrassed by my bluntness.

“Why not? They’re dead. They can’t hear you.”

“Tegan!”

I grinned wickedly. “Anyway, I’d come here and spend days learning how to cook and tend to the grapes—I was never too young. Gran had me in the winery sipping on all of the vintages in my teens. She let me stay with the workers, and I’d be so tired at the end of the day, I’d want to drop, but I refused to sleep because I wanted to see what else she wanted to do.”

A faraway feeling of nostalgia washed over me, and a pang of grief so deep, it stole my breath. It took me a minute to collect myself as Bizzy watched me. “So, no. I’m not ever selling this place, not even if it never produces another bottle of wine again. I don’t care how much money they offer me.”

Bizzy shrugged. “Then I suggest you find a way to work it out with Suncrop, because I doubt they’re the types to just wander off and leave it. They all looked pretty pissed off… except the cutie blond one. He looked pickled by the whole experience. Which one was he again?”

“Maverick,” I answered automatically.

Bizzy’s eyebrow shot up, and she grinned. “You answered that awfully fast.”

My frown deepened. “I tend to keep track of the men attempting to ruin my life, yes.”

Bizzy grunted, her grin fading. “Just sit down with them. Put your anger aside and see if you can’t all be adults about this. There has to be a middle ground somewhere.”

I inhaled deeply and nodded, trying to steady my still-racing heart. It hadn’t gone back to normal since we’d left that arrogantly posh law firm that made me want to topple all the half-naked statues inside on my way out.

“You’re right,” I agreed. “I’ll call Atticus King in the morning, and we’ll try this again. Civilly.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bizzy cried, bouncing up and knocking the table. “Now please tell me that you have some Irish cream to put in this hot chocolate. My nerves are shot after all that.”

I grinned wryly and turned toward the cupboard over the sink, where Gran had always stored her favorite liqueurs. “Yournerves are shot? I’m the one who’s stuck owning this land with a bunch of developers.”

“It could be worse,” Bizzy reminded me, eagerly accepting the curved brown bottle from my hands. “You could have no land at all.”

I pursed my lips, again hearing the note of envy in Bizzy’s voice.

My cousin had it so wrong; she had no idea. Will pissed away all of my gran’s inheritance, whoring and gambling, just like he did with his own money and my mom’s before. Bizzy only thought we were well-off because Will always put on a big show for everyone.

But there was no sense in trying to explain all that to Bizzy. People only looked as hard as they wanted to see. I didn’t have to explain or justify my existence to my cousin or anyone else. I knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.

“I will pay you for all your legal help,” I promised her again. “As soon as—”

“The crops… I know, I know,” Bizzy sighed. “You could get yourself out of this mess a lot sooner, though—if you put all that sentimental shit aside. You do know it’s never going to be how it was, don’t you?”

I winced, the words a genuine slap to my face. I did know that, but the vineyard was the only piece of myself I had left to cling to. Everything else was already gone.

CHAPTER6

Atticus

Although I would never admit it aloud, I was half swayed by Maverick’s approach to addressing the problem at Five Penny. I pondered the dilemma as the three of us sat by the pool in front of my coach house, five hundred feet from the main house, a mansion I also owned but rented as a vacation home. The place was vacant today, a Tuesday, but I had bookings over the next week and a half coming through. It didn’t make sense for me to live in the ten-thousand-square-foot home all by myself, and with the rental market booming, I had seized the opportunity to make the extra cash. I would never find myself without my hands in several pies, the rentals only one of them. I wouldn’t make the same mistake my father had made, putting all my eggs in one basket, only to have it ripped from his unseeing hands.

Maybe Five Penny can be rented out, too,I mused as an afterthought.

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