Paris
I SMOOTHED MY hand over the typed contract.
It was six in the morning and Tyler had already left to head back up north. I never got to this last night, so he woke me this morning and told me to read it and bring the signed document to his office at nine.
After taking a sip of the hot chocolate he’d made for me before he left, I lifted the stapled papers from my lap.
Sucking in a deep breath, I started to read the provisions. This was a big deal. I was in charge of Highway 128 and I wanted to do what was best for the company.
Merging with California Jane was for the best. Without it, we would have to close the doors before the month’s end. Going after Vince Gable was a long shot. And having Tyler in my life again seemed right.
So what was my problem?
I set my cup down and peeled back the cover page to read the details of the merger. Everything made sense. The details more than amenable. We’d continue to operate under our own names but share the resources the other company found scarce for the upcoming bottling season.
In November, we would then look at the financials and make operating decisions based on performance.
Operating decisions.
It was spelled out, of course.
Seize and desist the brand name underperforming.
Okay, he didn’t say turn Highway 128 into California Jane. That was a good thing. Highway 128 could outperform California Jane in the summer wine fest and then he’d have to agree to keep it.
I was reading the final pages when my cell phone rang. Henri’s name lit up my screen. Crap, I’d almost forgotten about him.
“Hello,” I said.
“Paris. There you are.”
Odd, but yes, here I was. “Hello, Henri. How are you?”
“I’m at your house. Where are you? I need to see you.”
Tension tore through my body and I quickly glanced down. My eyes widening as I battled between disbelief and anger. The item stating Tyler and I would marry before January 31st of this year and that I would take his name. How dare he assume either of those things and put them in a contract.
“Paris,” Henri shouted. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes,” I answered. “What’s going on?”
“Fabian and I are back together, but he insists that if I don’t tell my parents about him by the end of the week, he won’t stay with me.”
I sighed, knowing that would mean he’d be disinherited, which wasn’t what he wanted. “I’m sorry, Henri.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
The contract spelled out that I would stay married to him for no less than ten years and bear him three children or else I’d lose my decision-making power in the company.
What the hell?
I crossed that out and kept reading, crossing out line after line and writing side comments beside each one.
“No.”
“Never.”
“Over my dead body.”
In short, if I signed this, I was conceding all power to him. There were also requirements that I make myself available to him. Crossed that out. That I travel with him. Crossed that out. That I sleep in the same bed as him. Like that had to be a requirement? What wasn’t written was that I fuck him at his whim but it was there, between the lines. Like I hadn’t wanted to anyway?
My blood was boiling as I continued to pen the contract.
“Did you hear me, Paris?” Henri said.
I slammed the contract down. How dare he? “Sorry, Henri, the line is staticky, can you say that again?”
“We need to get married today and fly to France tonight, so I can tell my parents with my wife by my side.”
Of course, I was his shield. His veil to the world. The only cover-up his parents would accept. “I can’t do that, Henri. Not now. Highway 128 is in deep financial trouble and I have to fix it.”
So, I didn’t tell him how I was going to fix things. I knew that even though we weren’t really in love over the past year, if he found out about Tyler, he’d be hurt.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Fabian told me Tyler Holiday called him.”
My spine straightened. “What? Why?”
“To tell him what he saw at the club that night.”
Anger rolled in hot waves from my body. “Tyler did that? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. He’s the one who told Fabian, and he did it to get me out of the picture, darling.”
Darling.
Not love.
I didn’t like the sound of it.
Manipulation was a hard seed to swallow. Tyler wanted to break Henri and me apart to make way for him.
This was all a plan.
His deception.
Bitterness crawled into my chest as if my heart was its target.
“Listen, Paris, I’ve spoken to my parents about your company, and they have assured me that once we’re married, they would be more than happy to consider taking Highway 128 under their wing.”
I stared at the contract on the table. “What does that mean?”
He cleared his throat. Uncertain. “If they think it’s viable, Highway 128 will become a label under our brand.”
“Your brand?”
“Yes, but I’m certain the company will give you complete autonomy to run your business as you see fit. And most importantly, your winery will be saved.”
It wasn’t ideal, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t work with Tyler.
Couldn’t be with him.
He really hadn’t changed.
Still untrusting.
Still emotionally void.
Still the same old him.
And this proved it.
I clutched the shirt of his I was wearing tighter around me and tried to stop my lips from quivering. When I couldn’t, I tore the contract in half. “Yes, Henri, I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll be home soon. Wait for me.”
Looked like marriage bells would be ringing after all.
Just not the ones Tyler Holiday had planned.