My hand clenched the glass. If I’d had any more strength, it would have shattered. How dare he! He acted as if my father had had no part in all of this. As if it had just been given to my father and not earned. And as if he had been entitled to the property all along. As if he’d been waiting for this to happen. What an absolute asshole!
“Must we discuss business?” Eve asked. She seemed to be the only one at the table who realized how angry I was.
Mr. Sinclair turned his full attention to Eve with a smile that showed quite clearly why she was here. He was enamored. Oh fuck. Wasn’t he married?
“Of course. We’re here to celebrate.” He raised his glass, and I followed with Eve clinking her glass against mine. “To our award tomorrow.”
I saw red all at once. Our award? OUR?
That was too far.
It was too damn far.
He might have gotten us out of financial problems. He might have purchased the winery that was my home. But he hadn’t done shit with the wine.
I was the one who was there day in and day out. I was the one who worked in the fields and dealt with the on-site problems and who had produced the wine that was currently a finalist for this award. In no way, shape, or form was this award ours. It was only ever mine.
Before I could open my mouth, a hand smacked down on the table. “Mr. Sinclair,” Hollin said, suddenly at my side.
I jumped. I’d been so distracted by my increasing fury that I hadn’t even seen him enter or approach us.
“Hollin,” Mr. Sinclair said with a smile. “Good to see you.”
He stuck his hand out, and they shook.
“I was toasting to our success. I hope you don’t mind. Since we have every intention of beating Wright Vineyard tomorrow.”
“Healthy competition is always appreciated.” He nodded his head at Eve. “Hey, Eve.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey.”
“How’d you like The Tacos?”
Mr. Sinclair faced her. “Tacos?”
“It’s a soccer team,” she told him. “Hollin asked me to sub the rest of the season because they lost a player.”
“Yeah, see, we found my sister’s boyfriend making out with someone else,” he said, leaning forward dangerously. “I broke his nose and kicked him off of the team.”
Mr. Sinclair met Hollin’s eyes square on. The implied threat was bright and vibrant. Even Eve didn’t respond.
“Eve was nice enough to help us out. She’s good like that.”
Mr. Sinclair nodded. “How nice of her.”
Finally, Hollin turned to me. He looked hot in dark jeans and a white button-up, just like the one I’d borrowed from him all those months ago. He’d shaved, and his hair was done. But his blue eyes were storm clouds, dark with intent.
“Can I borrow you, Piper?”
I gulped, and despite myself, I nodded. I wanted—needed—the out. “Sure.” I pushed my drink across the table toward Mr. Sinclair and Eve. “Thanks for the drink.”
Hollin directed me across the bar and back out into the lobby until Mr. Sinclair and Eve were no longer visible. I sagged back against a wall. I crossed my arms over my chest, closed my eyes, and released a deep breath.
“You looked ready to murder him,” Hollin said. “Thought you could use the out.”
“Yeah,” I said hollowly. “He kept going on about how the award tomorrow would be our award. Ours. As if he’d had anything to do with it.”
“Fuck. What an ass.”
“I thought you were going to hit him.”
He cracked a smile. “Nah. He’s the kind of douche who would press charges. I said all he needed to know.”
“You think he and Eve…”
“Don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah. She’s wearing Louboutins. I doubt she bought those shoes.”
“Sugar daddy central from Daddy Sinclair.”
I cracked up at the name. He’d said it before at breakfast, but it fit even better now. When I met his eyes, the ice had melted, and it was just him. Everything felt so…normal. As if we were meant to be here together. Just like this.
But reality rushed back in.
He must have seen the moment that I realized that we were standing together alone. Because he took a half-step back, giving me breathing room. We were on precarious ground.
He’d been there when I needed him against Daddy Sinclair. When he hadn’t been there when I found out about the sale to begin with. It meant something, and I appreciated it. But I needed more time.
“I should go upstairs and get some rest.”
His eyes flickered to my lips and then back up. “I could…walk you.”
My mind reeled with all the things that would happen if I said yes. The elevator doors would slide closed, and he’d push me back against them, kissing me breathless. We’d break long enough to make it to my room. He’d kick the door down, and we’d try to rip each other’s clothes off. He’d get annoyed with how long it was taking and get his hands and his cock under my skirt as fast as possible. Bury himself inside of me.