Page 82 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner
My phone ringsat precisely 8:00 AM, Catherine Halsey's name flashing on the screen. I slide out of bed, careful not to wake Dominic, and pad downstairs to take the call.
"Elena." Catherine's voice is all business, no preamble. "I assume you've read my email?"
"Yes," I reply, keeping my voice low. "I appreciate the... clarity... regarding the situation."
"Then you understand why we need you back in San Francisco immediately. The ownership group is meeting Monday to finalize the reorganization."
The pressure lands like a physical weight. "I'm still in negotiations with Silverleaf. We're making progress, but?—"
"Is there a signed contract?" Catherine interrupts.
"Not yet, but?—"
"Get it and book a flight today. Your career can't afford another day of absence while Davis consolidates his position."
The stark assessment silences any further protest. Catherine has always been direct—it's one of the qualities I'veadmired in her as one of the few female executives in our male-dominated industry.
"I understand," I say finally. "I'll make arrangements."
"Good. And Elena? Bring something concrete from this vineyard, or don't bother coming to Monday's meeting at all."
The line goes dead, leaving me clutching my phone in the quiet kitchen, torn between professional duty and the life that's begun taking shape here in Angel's Peak. As I turn to head back upstairs, I find Dominic standing in the doorway, his expression carefully blank.
"Sounds like San Francisco is calling," he says, his voice neutral in a way that immediately raises my defenses.
"Just checking in," I reply, deliberately casual. "Catherine wants an update on the contract negotiations."
"And a flight booked today, from what I gathered." His tone remains even, betraying nothing, but his body language has shifted—shoulders squared, arms crossed, the physical manifestation of emotional withdrawal.
"Dominic—"
"It's fine." He moves past me to start the coffee, his back a barrier between us. "You have responsibilities. A career. I've always known that."
The reasonable words can't disguise the hurt beneath them. I reach for him, but he steps smoothly away, maintaining the distance he's suddenly created.
"We should talk about this," I try again.
"There's nothing to talk about." He hands me a mug of coffee without meeting my eyes. "You'll go back, as you always planned to. The timing's just moved up a bit."
His retreat behind emotional walls is so swift and complete that it leaves me breathless. After days of growing closeness, of shared vulnerability and deepening connection, he's suddenly as remote as when we first met.
"I haven't made anydecisions yet," I say, frustration building at his assumption, at the way he's already pushing me away.
"Haven't you?" His gaze finally meets mine, penetrating in its quietness. "Your boss calls, and your first response is 'I understand' and 'I'll make arrangements.' Sounds like a decision to me."
Before I can formulate a response that isn't defensive or apologetic, Merlot barks at the door, signaling his morning needs. Dominic takes the opportunity to escape the conversation, whistling for the dog and disappearing outside.
By the time they return, I've showered and dressed, my professional armor in place. Dominic has similarly retreated behind a mask of polite detachment, discussing the day's plans as if we're casual acquaintances rather than people who've shared intimacies both physical and emotional.
"There's a fundraiser at Mabel's Guest House this afternoon," he mentions over a breakfast neither of us is really eating. "The town's gathered enough money for the renovations to begin, and they're celebrating with a community potluck."
"You're going?" I can't keep the surprise from my voice. The Dominic I first met would have avoided such an event at all costs.
"I promised Ruth I'd make an appearance." His shrug is deliberately casual. "You're welcome to join, if you'd like a proper introduction to Angel's Peak before you leave."
The slight emphasis on "before you leave" doesn't escape me, but I choose not to challenge it. Instead, I nod, genuinely curious to see more of this community that's embraced Dominic despite his best efforts to remain isolated.
"I'd like that," I say softly.
