My throat tightened. I’d known this conversation was coming. Had been dreading it since that night in the cellar when I’d stood before him, Snapper, Saffron, and Kick and admitted the truth. “I gave them the information. I helped them recreate the wine?—”
“After threatening to destroy it first,” he said matter-of-factly. The same way he would handle a business negotiation when someone had disappointed him. “You stood in my wine cellar and made a spectacle of yourself.Again.”
His emphasis on again might as well have been a slap in the face.
He leaned forward, his eyes hard. “You threatened to destroy the Hopes’ last chance to save their home, their legacy.”
“But I didn’t,” I said quietly. “I gave them what they needed.”
“Only after you were caught.” He turned his chair and looked out the window. “Only after you realized how much worse you’d look if you followedthrough. Don’t pretend this was nobility, Isabel. It was damage control.”
The words stung because if I hadn’t overheard the story my father told about his grandmother doing the same thing, stopping the wine from being made, and the regret she lived with all her life because of it, I couldn’t say I would’ve come forward.
He turned back toward me, and the look on his face was another I knew too well. Anger. “If you cause another scandal,” he seethed, “I’ll cut you off. Completely. No trust fund. No credit cards. No access to Van Orr resources. You’ll be on your own.”
The threat settled between us, tangible and cold. He meant it. I could see it in the set of his jaw and the way he held my gaze without blinking.
“Do you understand me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He returned to his papers. “I assume you’ll be more careful going forward.”
I stood, dismissed. He didn’t look up as I left his study.
Back in my bedroom, I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at nothing as what my father said echoed inmy head.Another scandal. On your own. Cut you off completely.
Everyone in Paso Robles hated me. That much was clear. I’d spent years bidding on Snapper Avila, making a fool of myself at every auction while the whole town watched and whispered. I’d threatened to destroy the Christmas Blessing Wine out of spite. I’d been cruel to Saffron Hope when all she’d done was fall in love with the man I’d never really wanted.
I was the villain in everyone’s story. Even my own father thought I was a liability, another scandal waiting to happen.
But I didn’t have to stay that way. I could leave. Start over somewhere else. Become someone better. Someone worthy.
A need pulsed through me with an urgency I’d never experienced. It went beyond my father’s threat or the town’s judgment.
Ihadto change. Had to prove I could be more than the spoiled princess everyone believed I was.
2
KICK
Igot up on Christmas morning and tried calling Isabel. Six rings, then voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. What could I say that I hadn’t already?
It had been three weeks. Three weeks of unanswered texts and calls. Three weeks of silence so complete I started to wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing—the year of unexpected connection, the night in October, all of it.
Then last night—Christmas Eve—she’d answered, and after I told her how sorry I was, she said she forgave me in a way that suggested no forgiveness at all.
I understand. We can move past this.
She sounded cold. Like she’d given in and told me what I wanted to hear, but meant none of it.
I stared at her name on my screen. I could press call again. Listen to it ring until voicemail picked up. Repeat the cycle I’d been stuck in for days.
Instead, I tossed the phone on the passenger seat and started my truck.
I almost didn’t go to my mother’s house for our annual family dinner. After what I’d done—betraying Snapper’s trust not once but twice, and telling Isabel about the auction arrangement that had caused all the chaos—I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome. Part of me wondered if they were all hoping I wouldn’t show.
But the thought of sitting alone in my house while they gathered without me was unbearable.
