I should run. Right now. Just turn tail and run. I don’t know what I was thinking, hoping to talk to him. He’s after my family’s extensive property holdings throughout the valley. And I want something from him too.
The venue is small, at one of the many local wineries in the area. I’d found out Gage was coming so I planned to attend as well. I’d already talked to the winery owner, giving him my card in the hopes he would discuss the offer I made him earlier tonight, right before the party started.
The artisan breads my aunt bakes every morning would go perfectly with his wines. I’ve been trying this tactic for a while, approaching local businesses the bakery could pair with for promotional purposes, but so far, no luck. I’m starting to believe the word “failure” is tattooed on my forehead, and the only one who can’t see it is me.
“Would you like a drink?” Gage asks. When I look at him once more he inclines his head to the side. “I’m headed to the bar. Care to join me?”
I follow him wordlessly through the crowd, murmuring hellos to the people I know as we pass, which is most of them. I’ve spent my entire life here. The towns that make up Napa Valley may be large, but the community is small, and everyone seems to know each other.
The gossip will probably be rampant with the fact that I spent time in the company of the calculating, interloping real estate shark Gage Emerson, but I don’t mind. Ultimately I’ll get what I want.
Though he probably won’t.
He settles his hand at the base of my spine, steering me toward the bar, and I feel his touch in the very depths of my soul. My knees weaken as we come to a stop, standing in a short line to order our drinks.
“So what brings you here this evening, Marina Knight?” he asks, making idle conversation. He doesn’t sound overly flirtatious, but I can never be too sure. At least he’s not touching me any longer. I don’t know if I’d be able to form words with his hands on me. My brain seems to go into temporary lockdown just having him close.
“My family,” I say, not wishing to give too much information away. If he can’t figure out who I am after my introduction, then I really don’t want to give him any more hints.
He lifts a dark brow. “Your family?”
“We own a few businesses in Napa Valley,” I finally answer vaguely, stepping forward as the line moves.
He keeps pace with me, his gaze roving over my face, as if he’s trying to figure out if we know each other. “Family businesses? Have we met before?”
I slowly shake my head. “Hmm, not that I can recall.” I’d rather have him think he’s utterly forgettable.
Not that he is. Oh no. It’s only been a few minutes, but I’m afraid he’s burned himself onto my brain forever.
“Huh.” He sounds stumped. Looks it too. Which means he looks adorable.
His squeaky-clean image is the stuff of legend. Well, really his public image is one of all business, no play. Yes, he always has a beautiful woman on his arm at various public events. Yes, he’s been linked to a few relationships, always with women who are as successful and powerful as he is.
So what could he see in little ol’ me? The bakery manager with the giant family that’s slowly losing its fortune, one buyout at a time?
Ugh, I need to push all the ugly thoughts out of the way and focus on the here and now. Like how can I convince him that the next acquisition on his agenda is off limits. The one he’s going to be offering on very soon. The deal my family—specifically my father—won’t be able to resist much longer.
I need to hold Gage off from making that purchase. He buys up the strip of businesses my family owns in St. Helena, and my career is over. My entire life I’ve wanted to run one of the family businesses, specifically the bakery. It was expected. The bakery had been a part of my life since I could remember. Now, with everything being sold off, there won’t be any businesses left. After all that my family had done over the years, to be left with nothing makes me sick to my stomach.
I’m a part of the Molina family legacy, one of the oldest families in all the Napa Valley, yet I feel like there’s nothing I can do. It’s slipping out of my grasp right before my eyes and I’m powerless to stop it. Though maybe I could stall Gage for a little while . . .
But how can I hold him off? What can I do to stop him from changing my life forever?
You’re a smart, strong woman. You can come up with something.
Sometimes I swear it feels like the voice inside my head is not my own.
It’s our turn to order at the bar, and Gage asks for a beer while I order a glass of sparkling wine, locally produced. I’m ultraconscious of supporting our area businesses. After all, I’d hope for the same in regards to my business.
My failing business, thank you very much.
He pays for my drink, and I let him. He’s still trying to figure out who I am; I can tell by his scrunched brows, his narrowed eyes. We move away from the bar but remain standing nearby. His back is facing everyone else still in line, and he’s turned toward me while I’m leaning against the wall. He’s got me effectively trapped, though I don’t feel it. I rather like being surrounded by Gage Emerson.
Even though I shouldn’t.
Gage
I CAN’T PLACE her, but I swear I’ve heard of her before. Maybe even met her though I can’t recall where. Archer’s hotel opening, maybe? I don’t know. I met an endless stream of people at that specific event, though they weren’t overly friendly. Most everyone in the Napa Valley still treats me like an outsider.