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I nearly choked on my wine, caught off guard by the revelation. Of all the things I expected to hear, this certainly wasn't one of them. The town had seen its fair share of interesting characters, but a runaway bride from the city? That was news. "Are you serious?" I managed to sputter.
Claire chuckled at my reaction. "Dead serious. Came to my studio today. Quite the artist, she is. Her name's Paisley."
A flood of thoughts rushed through my mind. Valle di Sole was a quaint town, usually offering solace to people looking for a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of city life. But a runaway bride? It felt like a story mothers would warn their sons about.
"So, Mr. Mayor," Claire teased, nudging my foot under the table. "Planning on welcoming the newest member of our community?"
I rolled my eyes, a smirk playing on my lips. "Of course. It's only polite." But secretly, my interest was stirred. An artist, a New Yorker, and someone courageous enough to leave everything behind for a fresh start? She sounded intriguing.
Over the next hour, Claire and I delved deeper into town affairs, discussing upcoming events and mutual friends. But my thoughts kept drifting back to Paisley. I wondered what circumstances had led her to such a drastic decision. And more importantly, what did she seek in Valle di Sole?
After bidding Claire goodnight, I decided to take a stroll through the vineyard before heading home. The vast expanse of vines under the starlit sky always calmed my mind. The familiar sight of the shed apartment came into view. A soft light emanated from the windows, hinting at its new occupant.
I resisted the temptation to walk up and introduce myself. It would be better to let her settle in and approach her when the time felt right.
However, as the mayor, protector, and likely Valle di Sole's only secret billionaire, I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility towards every resident, especially the newcomers. Paisley was no exception.
Retreating into my thoughts, I began devising a plan to get to know her better, ensuring she felt welcomed and safe. After all, Valle di Sole was more than just a town; it was a tight-knit community, always ready to embrace its own.
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when I made my decision. I was going to play this low-key. I was tired of women chasing me for the money or prestige. I wanted to meet someone normal, kind, and let her decide based on who I was, not what I had. I pulled on worn jeans, a faded t-shirt, and a cap to shield my face. A bit clichéd, I thought, but it would do the trick. Today, the mayor of Valle di Sole was to be just another worker in the vineyard.
My usual team was given a day off with the excuse of conducting a “vine health inspection.” In their place, I’d called in some trusted old friends from neighboring towns who were in on my little ruse and more than happy to play along.
As I approached the vineyard, my heart raced. It wasn't every day that the owner worked the grounds incognito. But this felt necessary. I wanted to know Paisley without the weight of my titles or my wealth hanging between us.
"Morning, boss!" chuckled Marco, a sturdy, sun-tanned man who'd been a childhood friend. He handed me a pair of gloves. "Ready to get those hands dirty?"
I shot him a wry smile. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"That it has," he laughed. "Let's see if you've still got it."
Throughout the morning, as we pruned and inspected the vines, my eyes occasionally drifted towards the shed apartment. There was no sign of Paisley.
Lunchtime rolled around, and I found a spot under a tree, unwrapping the sandwich I'd brought with me. I was just about to take a bite when a soft voice caught my attention.
"Do you mind if I join you?"
There she was, her honey-colored eyes curious as they studied me. Paisley looked every bit the artist Claire had described, dressed in a simple yet stylish outfit, her chestnut hair waving down her back.
"Not at all," I replied, masking my surprise. "It’s open ground. I'm Austin," I introduced myself, tucking my work gloves in my back pocket.
"Paisley," she smiled, extending her hand. "I just moved here."
"I heard," I replied, trying to keep my tone casual. "How are you finding Valle di Sole?"
She took a deep breath, her gaze drifting across the vineyard. "It's tranquil, beautiful... exactly what I needed."
We chatted about mundane things — the weather, the quality of the grapes this season, the upcoming town festival. She spoke with a genuine interest, her questions thoughtful.
"You've been working here long?" she inquired.
I hesitated for a split second, then replied, "Oh, a while. I've known this vineyard since I was a kid. It’s... close to my heart."
She smiled, seemingly content with my vague answer. "It's a special place. I can feel it."
Our conversation was easy, flowing naturally from topic to topic. As we talked, I found myself genuinely intrigued by her perspectives, her stories, her laughter. There was a raw authenticity about her that was rare.
The sun was beginning its descent when Marco approached. "We've got that last row to cover before we wrap up."
