Kendra wasn’t the kind of woman who blended into the background. She was petite, standing at around 5'3", with a slender yet toned frame. It was clear she took care of herself, likely through outdoor activities. Her nose had a slight upturn, giving her an almost pixie-like charm, and a small beauty mark above her lip only enhanced her unique allure.
But as I found myself getting carried away by her good looks, I forced myself to brush aside the attraction. But I knew better than to let myself get caught up in appearances. I’d learned the hard way that beauty often masked a deeper danger. My past had made sure of that.
My mother had abandoned me when I was a teenager, leaving my father heartbroken, and almost financially drained. The local news stations had had an exciting couple of weeks with news of the scandal, and I had been left to pick up the pieces.
My closest friend at the time had just moved away from town, leaving just a note, and no contact address. I couldn’t stand to be in Asheville anymore, so I switched to a boarding school in New York.
My father eventually remarried, and it gave me more reasons to stay away from home. I didn’t understand how he could trust another woman after what he’d been through.
And then, there was Jake’s wife. She had been a stunning beauty, but she had nearly driven him to take his own life with her greed and manipulation during the divorce.
As a result, I had developed a distrust for women. I saw them as unpredictable, and potentially destructive. I immediately shifted focus to my work, where I could control the outcome and avoid the risks associated with emotional entanglements.
Kendra was a distraction I didn’t need. She apparently had a lot going on, and I wasn’t interested in getting tangled up in her drama.
I shook off the thought and sat at my makeshift office by the window. This apartment had always been a retreat from the pressures of work, yet it had also become a place where my mind felt clearest.
I sighed as I opened the proposal for a meeting later that day, feeling a familiar weight settle on my shoulders. My father’s company, Bellavista Winery, was one of North Carolina’s largest wine producers, and I was at the helm.
Every bottle of wine, every vineyard decision, every court case about protecting our proprietary blends—all of it funneled through me.
Bellavista wasn’t just a family business; it was a legacy. My father had founded it over three decades ago, and I’d worked tirelessly to expand it.
We owned more than five hundred acres of vineyard, producing everything from crisp whites to rich reds, with our flagship Cabernet Sauvignon, “Don’s Essence”, winning awards left and right.
But with success came its share of challenges. Competitors constantly tried to replicate our recipes or steal our trade secrets, so legal battles were part of the job. And as if that weren’t enough, we were on the verge of expanding into international markets, something my father had always dreamed of.
As I reviewed the proposal for the meeting with my father and a potential investor, I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. We were considering expanding our market to a new country, and this partnership could be key to unlocking new opportunities.
I finished reviewing the proposal, making a few corrections, and sent it to the printer. I was about to hop into the bathroom when a thought crossed my mind, Damon!
I grabbed my phone and dialed my brother’s number, waiting for him to answer. If he was going to be joining the family business, this was a good place to start.
As I finished reviewing the proposal, I decided to loop in my younger brother, Damon. He’d recently expressed interest in joining the business, and I figured this could be a learning opportunity. I grabbed my phone and dialed his number.
“Hey, bro,” Damon answered, sounding distracted.
“I need you to get ready for a meeting. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes,” I said, already stripping off my clothes to jump in the shower.
“Uh, I don’t know, bro. I had plans to go scuba diving with my buddies.”
“Cancel them.”
“Come on, T.O.—we’ve been planning this for weeks. Can’t you just—”
“I won’t repeat myself. Be ready in thirty. You don’t want to see what happens if you’re not.”
Damon sighed, knowing better than to argue. “Fine. See you then.”
I hung up, took a quick shower, and dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a crisp white button-down, and a navy blazer—casual, but still professional enough for the meeting. I had a change of clothes for Damon in the backseat, anticipating he’d show up in something completely inappropriate for a business meeting.
Sure enough, when I pulled up to the gate of our family estate, Damon was waiting in a tattered pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he climbed into the car.
“There’s a change of clothes in the back. You’ll need them before the meeting.”
“Thanks, bro,” Damon said sheepishly, grinning as he reached for the bag.
I tossed the proposal onto his lap as I pulled away from the estate. “You’ll be pitching the marketing strategy today. Page twelve. Study it.”
