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She clasps the top of my hand with her other hand. “Thank you, sweet Spencer. I hope you trust that even though I’m an old woman, I know what I’m doing.”
My heart falls a little at the thought that maybe she doesn’t think I know that. “You’re not that old, Maggie. And of course, I know you do. I love you and this vineyard, and I hope you know that.”
She pats my hand. “I do know that. Thank you.”
“Where’d Gracie run off to?” Steve asks, sauntering up behind us. “Too much to drink or what? I thought she could hold her liquor better than that.”
I lift to a stand as he moves in beside me. “Someone dusted mustard powder on her food, and she had a terrible reaction. She’s okay, but she had to leave early to get her EpiPen. Hillary is with her now.” I’m not sure why I don’t tell him who did it. I’m guessing he can put that together on his own.
“Oh no. I’ll go check on her,” he says.
“I’ll just help wrap things up here, and then I’ll be over, too,” I say.
He reaches over to shake my hand. “Thanks, Spencer. For all your work to make tonight a success.”
“I was happy to help, but the credit goes to Grace,” I say, and it’s true. I’m glad this event was a success. I’m glad she took the idea to put landscape lights around the top of the barn on the inside, giving a glowing effect around the entire place. I’m glad we brainstormed ways to transform this place and ideas for the event.
I love being a part of this place.
I love being married to Grace.
I love the possibility that someday when I’m done playing, this will be my future.
But there’s one thing I don’t love, and I’m reminded what that is as I walk out the back doors of the barn for a quick, quiet moment on the back patio. I’m quietly wandering around the barn when I hear a voice. It’s a whisper, but it’s still loud all the same, and in the quiet of night, over the clanging of dishes just inside the barn, I can hear the entire conversation.
“She thinks it was you, not me.”
I’m not sure whose voice that is, but I hear the response that’s definitely Amelia. “Well, it was my idea. But I was smarter than to be the one who executed it.”
A couple of snickers, and I can’t help but wonder who Amelia’s talking to.
It’s a male voice, I think, though it’s hard to tell since it’s a whisper. Drew, maybe?
“Does Drew know?” the first voice asks.
“No,” Amelia says.
“Does he know about us?”
“No,” Amelia says again, this time with a giggle.
And then I hear…kissing? Smacking of lips, maybe. Possibly a moan.
Or maybe I’m dreaming all this up.
I don’t move a muscle until I hear the crunching of gravel moving the other way.
I duck back inside the barn, and I run toward the front of it. The doors are wide open, and that’s when I see Pete, the chef from the restaurant, walk around the side of the barn.
Jesus.
So Amelia is fucking around with Pete behind Drew’s back?
And Pete is running around poisoning people on her behalf?
I thought Pete was a stand-up kind of dude. I’m honestly a little shocked right now that he turned on Grace. I can’t help but wonder what Amelia promised him—apart from sexual favors, obviously.
What’s next?
