Chapter 22
Sherry
“I’m an idiot,” I said to Lainey as I shoved a spoonful of cake in my mouth.
Chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate curls.
Death by chocolate… except it wasn’t killing me; it was sustaining me.
The way Ben had looked at me when he swore he would prove himself was ingrained in my brain, and no chocolate could wash that away.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to keep trying. I forked more cake into my mouth.
“You sure you don’t want me to start on a voodoo cake?”
I sighed. “As tempting as it is, I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Because you love him.”
I groaned and engorged myself with more cake. “You know my rule of not dating someone I work with?” I glanced at Lainey, and she nodded. “Can’t get more complicated than this, now can we?”
“It can always be more complicated.”
“The man I love is the son of the man who is trying to bring down my family legacy, all because he’s a greedy, money-hungry bastard. The irony.”
“That definitely wasn’t on my bingo card, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t think it was on anyone’s bingo card. This shouldn’t have even been an option.”
“But it is, so now you need to figure out how you feel about that.”
“How I feel? I feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.”
“Then what am I? I fell for him. Over and over. I had my chance to walk away, but he kept roping me back in, and each time I let him. Not once did I see this betrayal coming.”
“That’s because you fell for Ben , not his father or his last name. The man who looks at you like you hang the stars. Who makes you laugh and throw your rules to the wayside.”
“If that’s even who he really is.” I pouted and shoved more cake into my mouth. “For all I know this is part of some big plan to fool me, compromise me, and swoop in and destroy Vine Valley Vineyards.”
“You wouldn’t be this torn if it were fake. Somewhere deep inside, you know the truth. Trust your intuition.”
“My intuition and I aren’t on speaking terms right now.”
“Well, you better make up soon. In the meantime, Domenique is going to be here any minute to try cakes, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t have chocolate crumbs and tears all over the table.”
“Some best friend you are,” I joked.
“I offered the voodoo cake, and you said no. So now you’re getting some tough love. Put your big girl panties on and deal with it.”
I crinkled my nose. “You know how much I hate that saying.”
“Which is exactly why I’m using it against you.”
“You’re mean.”
“And you love me.”
“I have to. I’ve known you almost as long as my siblings.”
She planted her hand on her ample hip and shook her head. “I will let that slide only because you’re dealing with heartbreak, and I don’t want to kick you while you’re down.” She handed me a napkin and motioned to the table.
“You’re making me clean up my crumbs. I think that qualifies.”
“The last time you were this dramatic, Bobby Winkleton broke up with you after the eighth-grade dance because you wouldn’t let him cop a feel on the dance floor.”
“God, why do you remember everything?”
“That’s what best friends are for. Now wipe the chocolate off the corner of your mouth. Domenique is here.”
I glanced up and saw the woman who exuded wealth with her designer sunglasses propped on her head, hair swept back in a sleek bun, and a blazer that probably cost more than Ben’s monthly salary.
I shook my head at the thought. The man went from having a trust fund to working as a warehouse manager.
He made good money for the position, but nothing compared to what he was used to.
If he owed his father, that meant his father wasn’t giving him a penny.
He was living below the standards he was raised with, and for that, I had to give him credit.
Thanks to the success of our vineyard, I would never have to want—my kids and grandkids either—but I still couldn’t bring myself to spend the kind of money Domenique did on clothes.
My brain bounced around. Ben was in the industry.
He knew what Vine Valley Vineyard was worth.
He was broke. Maybe his father wasn’t his motive, but my money was.
No. I didn’t believe that. Ben had never mentioned money to me. If he was after my money, he would have brought it up at some point. I closed my eyes and thought about it, letting my intuition take over. My money had nothing to do with it.
“Good afternoon!” Domenique said as she walked in, her heels clicking on the tile. She clapped her hands together. “I’m so ready to try all the delicious goodness.”
I stood, brushing crumbs from my lap and glancing at the empty plate. It was the only evidence left of my emotional spiral. “We’re excited for you to try everything. Lainey has curated a spectacular lineup. You’re going to have a hard time deciding. I can guarantee it.”
“Perfect.” She glanced around, and the door opened. “I brought my assistant, Anya. She can’t say no to cake and has an impeccable palate.”
“The more the merrier.” I plastered on a smile as I reached into my bag and pulled out my laptop.
Because Domenique had limited time, we decided to combine her cake tasting with our meeting to go over concepts.
I had compiled table settings, floral arrangements, color palettes, and lighting options all tailored to the aesthetic of her vision with her elegant twist.
Domenique took a seat, and her assistant snapped a few photos before joining us. I turned the laptop toward them and clicked through the mood board I created.
“These are just initial concepts,” I said. “We can mix and match based on your preferences or pivot entirely.”
She leaned in, her eyes scanning the screen. “This one.” She tapped a photo of a candlelit table beneath hanging vines. “It’s romantic without trying too hard. That’s the vibe I want. Elevated but approachable.”
I secretly high-fived myself. “I thought you might like that.” I clicked over to the next picture.
“I was thinking cocktail hour in the barn. Lots of wood textures, grazing tables with local cheeses and seasonal fruits, and, of course, Vine Valley wines. I know I promised you a special reserve, but unfortunately, the bottles were broken in a warehouse mishap.”
“Oh no,” Domenique gasped. “I was really looking forward to them.”
“I know, which is why I spoke to my brother the vintner, and he told me he has a barrel of a new limited batch that’s been aging quietly for the past year. It’s not released yet, but he’s willing to bottle it early for your wedding.”
Domenique’s eyes lit up, and she turned to Anya before turning back to me. “An unreleased wine. That’s like an exclusive.”
“And exactly the kind of detail that’ll have your guests talking for weeks.”
“You really know how to deliver, Sherry. That is perfect.” I internally sighed in relief.
I wasn’t sure she’d go for it, but Franc insisted she would as long as I packaged it right.
I’d have to thank him later for saving my ass, and for allowing a wine he’d been nurturing like a newborn be bottled early.
It had been no small ask. but he knew how important this wedding was.
Not just for me, but for the entire vineyard.
“Now let’s transition to dinner out in the vineyard under the tent.” I tapped to a new vision board. “The vibe will shift slightly. More elegance, with draped lighting, vintage glassware, and layered florals. Still rustic, but refined.”
Domenique looked at Anya and smiled, while Anya nodded. “This is exactly what I envisioned but couldn’t put into words. The barn gives it character. The vineyard dinner will make it unforgettable.”
“Exactly,” I beamed. Now I just needed to make sure this all came together without a hitch.
Lainey came out holding a platter of samples. She placed them in front of Domenique and Anya. “First up, almond cake with local blackberry compote and local honey cream. Both the blackberries and the honey come from the local farm stand in town. I’m sure you passed it on the way here.”
“The owner is a cranky old man,” Anya said.
“That would be Albert,” I said.
Lainey laughed. “He’s more bark than bite. Honestly, he’s a good soul. He lets me get first dibs on all the new produce.”
“You don’t exactly give him a choice,” I joked.
Domenique and Anya cut into their first sample, and I gave Lainey a smile over their shoulders.
“Oh wow!” Domenique moaned. “This is dangerously good.”
“I told you it’s going to be hard to choose. They are just going to get better. Trust me.” I smiled, but the word trust poked at me, reminding me that while my professional life seemed to be going well, my personal life was a dumpster fire.
For a moment, it was easy to forget everything that had happened this morning. Losing myself in cake samples, mockups of centerpieces, and doing the job I loved so much. But the minute I walked out that door and back to reality, I would have to face a question I wasn’t ready to answer.
Did I trust Ben? More importantly, could I forgive him?
I didn’t know.