“Impressive, isn’t it?” Elise’s voice floated up behind me, dripping with that false cordiality I knew so well. “We completely transformed the space.”
“You certainly transformed it,” I replied evenly. “It’s very… colorful.”
Élise smiled, her eyes sweeping over my dress with that calculating look she always had.
“Elite PR specializes in events that go viral.” She gestured to the decorations. “Every detail was strategically designed to be ‘Instagrammable.’ The balloons are the exact shade of Merlot grapes at peak ripeness, the lights replicate the glow of the sun through the vines… conceptual, you see?”
Lies. There was nothing conceptual about this-it was pure generic fluff. But I bit my tongue.
The first vehicles began arriving, SUVs and luxury cars bringing the highly anticipated influencers. As they stepped out, their expressions of awe looked rehearsed-hands pressed to cheeks, mouths forming perfect little O’s, squeals of excitement pitched just right. I could practically see the captions they would write: Unforgettable moments at the most exclusive winery in Verdania! #blessed #winelifestyle #sponsored.
Elise was in her element, floating from guest to guest, doling out exaggerated hugs and air kisses. I spotted Christian near the tasting area, his tense body betraying his discomfort as he tried to explain the winemaking process to a young woman who seemed far more interested in snapping selfies with the bottles than listening to him talk about fermentation.
“Need help?” I offered, stepping up beside him.
The relief on his face was almost comical.
“Please.”
I turned to the influencer with a friendly smile.
“Can I show you the perfect angle for your photo?” I asked, gently taking her phone. “If you stand like this, with the vines in the background and the glass at this angle, the light creates an amazing effect with the ruby color of the wine.”
Her eyes lit up, and she eagerly struck the pose I suggested. I snapped several photos, knowing exactly the kind of content she was after.
“Perfect! And don’t forget to mention this is an internationally awarded Cabernet, exclusive to the 2018 harvest.” I handed her phone back with a wink. “Your followers will love that detail.”
The young woman smiled gratefully and hurried off to post immediately.
“How did you do that?” Christian asked, genuinely surprised.
I shrugged.
“I understand what they want. And I know how to tie it back to what you need to communicate.”
He studied me for a moment, a different kind of smile slowly forming.
“You really would have been good at this.”
Before I could respond, we were interrupted by another influencer asking for a photo with “the power couple behind the winery.” Christian slipped his arm around my waist automatically, and we posed for what would be the first of many pictures.
As the event went on, I realized we made a great team. Christian knew every technical detail about the wines, while I knew how to shape that information into something appealing for the target audience. Without even noticing, we were actually acting like owners of the place-but in a way that felt almost natural.
In one of the more surreal moments, a fitness influencer insisted on demonstrating how to open a champagne bottle with a saber (something he had clearly never done before). The result was disastrous: the bottle practically exploded, spraying glass and champagne everywhere-including all over one guest’s extremely expensive white dress.
Christian and I exchanged a look, and for no good reason, we both burst out laughing. We tried to hold it back, but it was impossible. Soon we were slipping away discreetly into a corner between the vines, laughing like teenagers.
“Did you see his face?” Christian managed between laughs. “Like he’d just detonated a bomb!”
“And Elise!” I wiped a tear from laughing so hard. “I thought she was going to faint when she saw that Valentino ruined!”
For a few minutes, we were just two normal people sharing a private joke, forgetting the deal, the tensions, the exes, and everything else. It was freeing.
Our moment was cut short by a familiar voice.
“Looks like you’re having fun.” Alex appeared, holding two glasses of wine. “I thought you might want a drink, Zoey. Like old times.”
The laughter died on my lips. Christian immediately straightened, his arm sliding around my waist in a possessive hold.
“She’s already served, thank you,” Christian said, his tone clearly defensive.
Alex raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading.
“I thought I might show Zoey the southern side of the vineyards. There’s a spectacular sunset view from there.”
His eyes locked on mine, loaded with insinuation. “It’d be the perfect chance to… talk.”
I felt Christian tense beside me, but before he could respond, I placed my hand softly on his chest.
“Thank you, Alex, but I’d rather stay with my fiancé.” I looked at Christian, catching the surprise in his eyes as I used the word fiancé so naturally. “We have guests to attend to.”
Alex’s smile faltered for a brief moment.
“Of course. Another time, then.”
As he walked away, Christian let out a breath I hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For a moment I thought…”
“That I’d go with him?” I shook my head, half amused, half exasperated. “I thought we cleared that up yesterday.”
Christian took my hand, his fingers lacing through mine in a way that felt strangely right.
“Come on. My grandfather said he wanted to make an announcement.”
At the center of the event, a small stage had been set up. Joseph Kensington, imposing even in his old age, climbed up with Marcus’s help. A wine glass in hand, he cleared his throat, the sound carrying through the microphone and drawing everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for honoring Kensington Vineyards today.” His deep voice held the kind of natural authority that commanded respect. “I’d like to take advantage of having so many modern communicators here to share some special news.”
A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. Influencers were already angling their phones, anticipating exclusive content.
“As many of you already know, my grandson Christian recently became engaged to the lovely Zoey Bennett.” Joseph smiled, his eyes searching for us in the crowd. “And today, I am pleased to announce that the wedding will take place right here at the vineyard, on May 15th.”
I froze. May 15th? That was less than three months away! I looked at Christian, who seemed just as shocked as I was, though he was clearly trying to keep his composure.
“Christian, Zoey, please join me on stage so we can toast to this union!”
Christian squeezed my hand, trying to guide me toward the stage. My feet felt like lead.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered desperately as we walked. “Christian, this wasn’t part of the deal. I’m not going up there and pretending we’re actually getting married in May!”
He kept pulling my hand gently, a fixed smile plastered on his face for the audience, but his eyes betrayed panic.
“Zoey, please…” he muttered through clenched teeth.
“No, Christian. This has already gone too far!”
Christian’s POV
“No, Christian. This has already gone too far!”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.