“I’m sure it’s just a wait until you’re older kind of thing,” I said. “That’s a lot of money, Bree.”
“Are you trying to say she wouldn’t know how to look after it?” Of course Justin had an opinion on that.
“No. I’m just saying it’s a lot of money for someone her age.”
“What do you know about her? She’s extremely responsible.”
“Says the one who has to have his money issued to him by me and the family accountant.”
“Fuck you, Noah.”
“Just stating the facts.”
“Yeah, well, it seems you’re in charge of all of us. Kind of ironic, since you’re the one who left us.”
“I didn’t leave. I was told to fucking go. And he hasn’t read Ryan’s yet, so why don’t you shut your mouth?”
All of us looked to Ryan, who shrugged. “I don’t care what it says, as long as I get to keep my job.”
John nodded, clearly as ready for this to be as over with as we were.
“To Ryan Chamberlin I leave the cabin up on the west hill, and the job title and wage of vineyard manager. The deed for the cabin will be signed over to him immediately upon my death.”
Mom made a sound from the far end of the table, and when we all turned her way, her hand was over her mouth.
“Mom?” Ryan was on his feet and over to her in a second. “What is it?”
“He didn’t leave you any money, man.” Justin looked back to John. “I heard that right, yeah? There was no co-ownership or profit talk? No stipulations mentioned in there.”
“No. Just the cabin and his job.”
“Okay, that’s fucked,” Justin said. “That place is a woodpile.”
Ryan squeezed Mom’s shoulder, trying to calm her. “I love that place. He knew that. It means more to me than money.”
Mom looked up at Ryan and shook her head. “No, it’s not right. You work so hard on the property. You should get your share. We can fix it.”
“It’s fine, Mom. This is the way he wanted it.”
She looked to John, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Mrs. Chamberlin, I understand this is quite a change from the original will and testament that Harry drew up regarding the business, but his personal wishes have not changed. All personal assets and investments will go directly to you to do with as you please. We can go into the nitty-gritty later if you like—”
“Yes, yes.” She nodded. “I think that would be best. We all need some time to…process.”
“Very well. Unless anyone has any questions, that’s all.”
That was all? It was amazing how he said that as though he hadn’t—or should I say, Harry hadn’t—just screwed us all over in some form or another. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as we all sat there trying to digest what we’d just learned.
It was blackmail, pure and simple. Harry was blackmailing us all in one way or another, and the underlying threat was the loss of the family business. It was bullshit.
I reached for my collar and pulled at it, suddenly feeling as though it might strangle me. I needed to get out of there. I needed space. Fresh air. I needed to think about what the hell I could do to get out of this clusterfuck.
I shoved back from the table and got to my feet.
“Noah?” Mom said. “Where are you going?”
“I need to… I have to think about this.”
“What is there to think about?” Justin said. “You’re not going anywhere, brother.”
“Justin…” Brianna said softly, but Justin just shrugged.
Ignoring him, I said to Mom, “I’ll come by the winery later, okay?”
“Okay.” Her voice was steady but the worry in her eyes was evident. Unfortunately, I didn’t have it in me to offer any words of comfort. Hell, I didn’t even have any for myself.
I stormed out of the courthouse in a haze of fury, my head spinning at the implications of what Harry had just done, and as I made my way down the stairs, I ran smack bang into someone on the sidewalk.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” I said, reaching for the innocent bystander, but when my eyes locked on who it was, all of the anger, all of the rage at being trapped in this town, dissipated in an instant.
“Laurel?”
8
Laurel
WHAT PACKS A stronger punch than Miss Betty’s coffee on a Monday morning? Running headfirst into the wall of solid muscle known as Noah Chamberlin.
As the books in my arms fell to the ground, I cursed and watched them scatter at my feet. I’d taken the morning to visit the library, since Emily had shut the winery to the public today to take care of matters regarding her and Harry’s private affairs. I had a little while until she expected the staff to arrive for a meeting involving some changes to the business, and I’d planned to spend it having said coffee and reading one of the books I’d just borrowed. Now it seemed I’d be nursing a headache instead.
“Laurel?”
“That’d be me,” I said, and flashed a grimace his way as I crouched down to pick up my books.
Noah immediately moved to help, reaching for the one that had fallen by his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s okay, honestly. I’m fine.” I stacked my books, and when he held the last one out to me and I went to reach for it, he didn’t let go.
I glanced up, and when our eyes met, he grinned. “Still a big reader, I see.”
“Some things never change.”
“No, they don’t. But sometimes they do, and the result is”—Noah’s eyes roved over my face as his thumb brushed up alongside mine—“stunning, to say the least.”
A shiver raced up my spine at the contact, and I couldn’t tell if it was due to pleasure or my flight response kicking in. Either way, I needed to get away from
