THE LOVE DEAL

Struck Form

The name alone sent a chill down my spine. Everyone knew who Damien Blackwell was. He was the kind of man people whispered about in boardrooms and over expensive cocktails- ruthless, powerful, and a reputation for getting exactly what he wanted, no matter the cost. He bought businesses the way people bought coffee, and from what I’d heard, he left no room for sentimentality. He had approached me two months ago just after I’d failed to secure a small business loan; one of the many I had tried. One of his people had reached out with an offer to buy the vineyard. At the time the very idea had felt like a slap in the face…sell the only thing that’s connected me to my Dad? The place where I had grown up, where I’d spent every summer learning about patience and hard work? I couldn’t do it, no matter how things were looking bad. I told them no without even thinking twice. But now…now I wasn’t even sure I had the luxury of pride. My stomach twisted in knots as I grabbed the card, running my thumb over the embossed letters. If I sold to Blackwell Enterprises, it would mean the end of the vineyard as I knew it. It would become just another asset in Damien Blackwell’s empire, a corporate playground where the wine didn’t matter as much as the profits margins. The Parkers Vineyard will be gone, it will just be…a vineyard. But if I didn’t sell, the bank would take everything and I would lose not only the vineyard, but the house, too. My father’s house, the place he built with his own hands. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing everything. With a deep breath I dialed the number on the card. My hands shook as I pressed the phone to my ear, each ring sounding louder than the last. Until finally, a clipped professional voice answered, “Blackwell Enterprises, how may I direct your call?” “I…I need to speak to Mr. Blackwell.” I said, my voice sounding far more uncertain than I wanted it to. It took everything in me not to end the call right away. “One moment please…” The line went silent for what felt like an eternity before the receptionist came back. “Mr. Blackwell will see you tomorrow. 11 A.M. At Blackwell Tower.” I barely had time to thank her before the line went dead. Damien Blackwell didn’t waste time with pleasantries It seemed. I released a short breath of relief, setting my phone down on the desk before me and staring out the window again. Am I making the right choice, Dad? “I really wish you were here…” I muttered, picking up my phone again and tracing the image of my dad that graces my phone’s wallpaper. “Are you talking to yourself again?” A voice behind me asked, and I couldn’t help but break into a smile. “No Mira, just my imaginary friend,…who is behind you,” I pointed at the empty space behind her and she gave me a blank look. “Very funny Selene…” “I try…” She strolled in like she owned the place, her shoulder length blonde curls bounced as she pushed her sunglasses into her head, eyeing me with suspicion. Mira gave a small smile that always seemed to put me at ease. “You look like you just watched your favorite vineyard burn to the ground,” she said, plopping down into the chair across from me. I scoffed, “Not far off.” Her gaze flickered to the letter on my desk, and her expression darkened. “Damn, what can we do?” I shook my head. I haven’t told any of them yet that I had made the call to Blackwell. She exhaled and leaned back. “Well. That’s a good killer.” I let out a humorless laugh. “You don’t say.” Mira studied me for a moment before kicking her boots up onto the desk. “Alright, so what’s the plan?” I frowned. “There is no plan.” “There’s always a plan, Sel.” I sighed, “Peter’s dragging me to lunch. That’s the closest thing I have to a plan right now.” Mira smirked, “A man with good priorities. Maybe you should marry him.” I rolled my eyes. “Not happening.” “Shame. He’s cute,…and, you know he’s had a crush on you for God knows how long…” “No he does not”, I giggled… Mira just wiggled her brows and shrugged. Just then, the door to the farmhouse flew open and I took in the sight of Peter…He was dressed casually, in a fitted Henley and dark jeans, his usual effortlessly put-together look. His brown hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration, and his sharp hazel eyes swept over me the moment he stepped inside. I could practically hear the silent assessment happening in his head. “Let’s go eat before we start making worse life choices.” Mira smirked getting up and strolling to Peter, tapping him slightly on his shoulder. Peter just rolled his eyes and glanced back at me. He had this look in his eyes, like he wanted to just comfort me. I gave a small smile that didn’t reach my eyes and grabbed my coat. The small rustic café sat on the corner of Main Street, the kind of place that smelled like fresh bread and rich espresso. The wooden tables were scattered with customers chatting over pastries and sandwiches, the soft him of indie music playing in the background. I sank into my seat as Peter ordered for both of us. Mira got comfortable beside me while Peter sat across us both. “So, are we talking about the elephant in the room or pretending doesn’t exist?” Peter sighed, “We’re talking about it.” I took in a breath. “I called Blackwell’s Enterprises.” I said quickly. The table quieted, and I refused to look them both in the eye. “I mean, we kinda saw this coming.” Peter said. “So you’re selling?” Mira asked “Selling to him means losing everything Dad worked for.” “And not selling means losing it to the bank anyways,” Mira pointed out. “At least with Blackwell, there’s a chance to negotiate.” Peter frowned. “You really think he’d negotiate? The guy buys businesses just to tear them apart and rebuild them in his image.” Mira shrugged, “He’s a businessman, not a cartoon villain. And last time I checked, we don’t have a lineup of generous billionaires knocking at our door.” I pushed my food around my plate, “I don’t know. It just feels like giving up. Peter sighed, “Sel, you’re not giving up. You’re trying to survive.” I guess I am. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My phone gave a notification, and I clicked it open to receive a mail of my confirmation of tomorrow’s meeting with Damien. This is it.