She's standing exactly where I left her, her arms wrapped around her waist and wide gaze still tracking Derek's retreating figure. When she looks at me, her eyes are shiny with unshed tears.
"Are you all right?" I ask, drawing her close.
"I'm fine now. Are you okay?"
I huff. "Absolutely." I lift her chin and press my lips to her forehead. The tension in her shoulders releases by a fraction. “While I wouldn’t call it fun, it was certainly satisfying.”
"I'm so sorry," she says. "I know you didn't come all the way to California to wrestle someone to the ground."
"Don't apologize for his behavior." I turn us in the direction of the hotel. "That boy's got the emotional regulation of a spoiled toddler. His general stupidity and lack of character are not your fault."
She walks quietly for half a block. "He really thought I'd say yes just because Evan asked me."
"He thought he could get his way. That if he dangled the winery and Evan’s legacy in front of you that you’d come running. Needless to say, he was wrong." I glance at her. "He's not your problem, Sunny. I'll make sure of that."
She nods once, and the tension leaves her shoulders. The walk back to the hotel takes less than five minutes.
In the lobby, she pushes the elevator button and leans into me while we wait. The overhead light is softer here, and her eyes are tired in the way they get at the end of a day that asked a lot of her.
"I want to go to bed," she says. "With you. And then I want to wake up and get on a plane and go home."
"That's exactly what we're doing." The elevator doors open.
She steps inside and turns back to me, her gaze open and steady.
“Thank you,” she says. “For coming. For everything.”
The doors close and I lace my fingers through hers. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Sunshine.”
Chapter 19
Sunny
Standing in the production room doorway, I breathe in the cool mineral air and stillness that I only find here. The scent of fermenting fruit wraps around me like a hug from an old friend. I was only in California for three days, but the relief of it catches me off guard.
I have a full slate of things to do, so I tie on my apron and get busy.
By the time Isabelle appears in the doorway at nine, I've already cranked through half of my to-do list. She's carrying two mugs of coffee and wearing that determined expression she gets when she has something to say.
"Welcome back." She crosses the room and sets a mug at my elbow. "You look annoyingly rested for someone who just flew cross-country."
"Charlie and I got back yesterday." I take a sip and watch her settle onto the stool across the worktable. "I was going to come find you this morning. I owe you an explanation."
"You do." She wraps both hands around her mug. "Start from the beginning."
I walk her through it—seeing Beaumont Crest again, Evan's apology, and the explicit terms of his deal with Derek.
"Charlie hired a private investigator to look into it," I tell her. "Turns out Derek’s parents had threatened to pull his trust fund, and the acquisition was how he planned to save it." Her jaw drops with every word. "I turned the offer down. Evan walked away from the deal entirely when I did."
Isabelle exhales slowly through her nose, and her shoulders drop.
"I'm glad you went in person," she says. "Evan deserved that."
"He did." I tap my fingers against the mug.
"You made the right call." Isabelle's dark eyes hold mine, and the directness in her expression tells me we're moving into different territory. She sets her mug down and straightens. "There's something I need to tell you, and I want you to hear me out before you say anything."
My spine stiffens. The last time Isabelle used that tone, she was telling me we'd just lost our biggest account.
