I’d emailed Pierce earlier in the week to ask him to revise the terms of my will. He hadn’t commented on it at the time, but I should’ve anticipated this conversation.
“She’s my wife. I know she can take care of herself. But if anything happens to me, I want to make sure she has what she needs.”
“You could give her a million, and she’d be more than taken care of. Yet you want to grant her access to your fortune and your company? How would your family feel about that?”
“I like to think they’d be supportive. Regardless of what they’d think, those are my wishes. I shouldn’t have to justify them to you or anyone.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“I thought you liked Lily,” I said.
I understood that he was trying to protect me, but did he truly believe that she was going to use me? She had no idea I’d asked him to transfer the remaining ten million. That had been all my idea.
“This isn’t about Lily. You’re my client and my best friend. It’s my job to look out for you. And right now, I’m not sure you’re getting your money’s worth from this deal.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, scarcely resisting the urge to punch him. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“Wife or not, you paid her for a job that isn’t done. You gave her twenty million despite the fact that we still haven’t secured the additional shares or hit the two-year mark.”
“Pierce,” I growled in warning.
“I know you don’t want to hear it. I know you think you’re in love. But if I don’t look out for you, who will?”
“Are you speaking as my friend or my lawyer?”
“Either. Both.”
“I don’tthinkI’m in love. Iamin love with her.” And I’d had enough. I didn’t need a babysitter on top of the board. “If you aren’t willing to revise my will, I’ll find someone else who will.”
He scoffed. “Wow. Okay. I see how it is.”
I reached out for him, regretting the words as soon as they’d left my mouth. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No. I think you said exactly what you meant.” And then he turned and headed for his car.
Fuck.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
“Damn, girl.” Jo linked her arm with mine. “I still can’t believe how much progress you’ve made since my last visit.”
Sometimes I couldn’t believe it myself. I followed her gaze up to the roof. Now that the zinc gutters had been removed, the roof was returning to its original shape. It wouldn’t have been possible without Graham’s help.
Jo and I hadn’t discussed my relationship with Graham again since our talk about “muddying the waters.” I knew Jo was concerned, but we kept our focus on preparing forles Journées du patrimoine. It was promising to be a beautiful fall day, and I was grateful for the sunshine after several days of rain.
“Do you think I forgot anything?” I asked.
“Not that I can tell. Run through it one more time, and we’ll see.”
I catalogued everything I could think of. Graham was chatting with the local vineyard while they finished setting up. The stonemasons had their tools ready for the demonstrations. I’d already checked on the local baker when he’d arrived earlier to start baking bread in the château’s original oven. “And the gift shop?—”
“I made sure all the displays looked perfect.”
“You’re the best.” I gave her arm a squeeze. “Thank you.”
The morning passed quickly in a blur of events and demonstrations. We had a great turnout, and everyone was so excited to see our progress. After how hard we’d worked to get to this point, it felt so good to revel in their praise.
Graham and I were answering some visitors’ questions when a familiar figure approached. Graham and I turned to each other, our expressions ones of mirroring shock.