Page 28 of How to Play the Player

We arrive at the gazebo just as the sun begins its descent behind the hills, casting long shadows across the vineyard. The structure itself is breathtaking—a circular pavilion with marble columns and a domed roof, surrounded by lavender plants and climbing roses. A stone path leads to a center platform, a romantic spotlight fit for a wedding ceremony.

“Oh, my god,” Kiera breathes. “Jonathan, this is it. This is where I want to marry you.”

“Your wish is my command, darlin’.” Jonathan pulls his fiancée close against him as they share a kiss. The one they share is tender, so full of genuine love and devotion, that I have to glance away out of respect. Also because it stirs a twinge of pain in my heart, a reminder of what I once thought I had with Nathan. What I thought was real.

“What do you think, Quinn?” Jonathan asks, turning to me.

I bring my focus back to them. “Absolutely stunning. And given one of your top priorities is privacy, it’d be easy to set a secure perimeter around the venue.” I slip easily into work mode, grateful for the distraction. “The secluded location, alongwith a good security team, will give us natural protection from paparazzi camera lenses.”

Jonathan nods approvingly. “Perfect!”

I continue, surveying the area. “We could potentially leak a few decoy locations to keep the press occupied elsewhere while the actual ceremony happens here. You’ll be enjoying your reception, away from prying eyes, by the time they’d figure out the actual location, assuming they do at all.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kiera says with a smile. “The last thing we need is for the press to think they’re invited and have a field day outside the gates.”

“Even if they do, they won’t be able to see anything. And if any wise guy thinks he can climb over a fence, the security team will prove them wrong,” I assure her.

Lyla steps in, already in planning mode. “And logistically, we’d want to create clear pathways for guests, perhaps string lights leading from the main villa. Plus comfortable seating—nothing worse than guests shifting uncomfortably during the emotional parts.”

Marco nods enthusiastically. “My team here at Solana can make sure everything is what you desire. I’ve recently installed a security system with sensors that will notify the security hub.”

He then leads us back toward the main building, explaining renovation plans for the wine barn that will serve as one of the reception spaces available. “It’s currently still under construction, but even in its current state, it can be ready by the July,” Marco promises. “Chandeliers, large dance floor, and built-in bar showcasing our vineyard’s wines.”

Jonathan turns his gaze to Kiera, their hands clasped. “What do you think, babe?”

“I love it,” she says, beaming. “I can already picture everything.”

While they discuss specific details with Marco and Lyla, I find myself wandering toward the tall windows that overlook the vineyard. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in brushstrokes of pink and gold. It’s undeniably romantic, the kind of view that makes you want to share it with someone special.

“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” Nathan’s voice comes from behind me. Too close behind me.

I don’t turn around, keeping the landscape as my focal point. “About what?”

“About what could’ve been.”

Yeah, he ought to know.

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with tension. I force myself to stay still, to not show how much they affect me.

“I prefer to focus on the present and future,” I say finally. “Thinking of the past only holds you back.”

“Interesting how you say that, yet here we are.” He moves to stand beside me, his reflection appearing in the glass of the window in front of me. “A PR consultant who took a job knowing she’d have to face her ex every day? Seems like you’re doing more than thinking about the past.”

I turn to face him, careful to maintain a professional distance. “I took this job because it’s a fantastic opportunity. Your brother wanted me, hired me. If you were in my shoes you’d do the same.”

“And our bet?” His eyes are intense, searching. “Is that just business too?”

“It only became a bet because you took my words as a challenge,” I remind him. “I simply took you at face value.”

He shakes his head. “But you didn’t hesitate, didn’t say no. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

In hindsight, he’s partially right. I could have told him to go pound sand, but I didn’t. I quickly shove that thought away. That line of thinking isn’t productive.

“Does it matter?” I ask, meeting his gaze steadily. “We both know what’s at stake. And we both know I’m going to win.”

He laughs as though mocking me as he steps closer into my personal space. “Are you so sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, you seem…flushed, breathing heavily, and so far you’re not walking away.”

My pulse quickens. Even after a year, he still has my body down to a science. I shift my expression to a cool neutrality. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s just the heat.”

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