Chapter 13 - My Terms
We met at ten the next morning.
Not at Grayhaven.
At Marlene’s office in downtown Napa.
Preston arrived with two attorneys.
Diane came with her own.
Daniel Cross came carrying three boxes of financial records.
Caroline did not come.
Neither did Ethan.
That was their business now.
Mine was across the table.
Preston looked exhausted.
“You’ve made your point.”
“I didn’t come to make a point.”
“What do you want?”
“Full disclosure.”
“You already have due diligence.”
“I want updated numbers.”
His attorney leaned forward.
“Our client has complied with the original agreement.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Has he?”
Daniel opened the first box.
Preston’s attorney closed his eyes.
Thirty minutes later, the room felt very different.
There were unpaid contractor claims.
Deferred tax obligations.
A lawsuit Preston had not properly disclosed.
And maintenance expenses that had been pushed into the next quarter to make Grayhaven’s operating numbers look stronger.
Marlene slid a yellow legal pad toward me.
I read the figure she had written.
Then I looked at Preston.
“The purchase price changes.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Of course it does.”
I told him the new number.
He shot out of his chair.
“That is theft.”
“No.”
I remained seated.
“That is risk.”
“You’re using my family crisis to steal an estate that has belonged to us for generations.”
I waited until he finished.
Then I said, “You offered me less than half market value for my portfolio because you thought my son’s wedding gave you leverage.”
His face hardened.
I continued.
“Don’t suddenly become offended by negotiation.”
Diane looked away to hide a smile.
Preston sat again.
“What else?”
“One more condition.”
His attorney sighed.
“What?”
“All vineyard staff keep their jobs for a minimum of twelve months, subject to normal performance standards.”
Preston blinked.
“Why?”
“Because they didn’t create this mess.”
Daniel looked at me.
For the first time all morning, he smiled.
I added another condition.
“Outstanding vendor invoices get paid at closing before any proceeds are released to family accounts.”
Preston’s attorney objected.
Diane said, “Agreed.”
He turned toward her.
“You don’t get to—”
“I own forty percent of the holding company.”
She stared at him.
“Apparently something you forgot.”
By two that afternoon, we had the basic framework.
Preston signed last.
Before he did, he looked at me.
“You must enjoy this.”
“No.”
He seemed almost disappointed.
“Then why are you doing it?”
“Because people who work for you deserve their money.”
I leaned back.
“And because I don’t confuse mercy with allowing somebody to keep hurting other people.”
He signed.
Grayhaven would close in forty-five days.
But I had one decision left.
The cottage overlooking the east vineyard.
The one I had intended to give Ethan and Caroline as a wedding present.
That evening, Ethan came to my house.
He looked terrible.
“Can I come in?”
I opened the door.
He saw the gift box sitting on my kitchen table.
“What’s that?”
I looked at it.
“The wedding gift I planned to give you.”
He slowly reached for it.
Then stopped.
“Planned?”
I nodded.
His hand fell.
“What was it?”
“The deed to a cottage at Grayhaven.”
His eyes widened.
I slid the box away.
“But I’m not giving it to you.”
May you like
He stared at me.
And I waited to see whether my son had finally learned the difference between love and entitlement.
