The Proposed Deal

The notion that Cole Montgomery wasn't finished with me persisted. I got the impression that he was the type of man who rarely heard the word "no." It was more than just his wealth or influence; it was the way he gazed at me as if he were trying to solve a conundrum.

However, I had more pressing issues than figuring him out. Neither the vineyard's debt nor the restless nights were going away. My chest constricted each time I imagined my father's dream vanishing.

When my phone buzzed, I was working on paperwork. I normally disregarded news alerts like this one, but this one had Cole's name prominently displayed in the headline.

• "Billionaire Cole Montgomery and his ex-fiance are embroiled in a public scandal."*

I clicked on the link out of sheer curiosity. He was standing next to a woman with cold eyes and a phony grin, seeming as professional as ever. The piece continued by describing his ex's accusations that he was cold, cunning, and incapable of love. It seems that some of his investors were beginning to doubt his stability as a result of the affair.

I nearly felt sorry for him. Nearly. However, the thought of Cole Montgomery being exposed felt as weird as a July storm.

I heard tires crunching gravel outside later that evening. I moaned when I peered through the window. Talk about the devil. Cole Montgomery, who appeared to be the owner of the establishment, emerged from a slick black sedan that had just come up.

Why was he in this place?

Before he could knock, I crossed my arms and opened the door. "Now, what do you want?"

He grinned, obviously amused. "Good evening, Miss Bennett, to you as well."

I tried to speak steadily as I said, "I thought I made myself clear at your office."

He said, "You did," and entered without waiting for an invitation. "However, I have a fresh idea for you."

I scowled as I shut the door after him. "If the vineyard is involved, I—"

"It's not," he cut in, his voice now solemn. "This is... distinct."

I waited for him to explain while I observed him. He appeared more agitated than normal as if he was struggling with something he didn't want to express.

"I will make a guess," I said. "You're here to tell me that by not selling, I'm making the biggest mistake of my life?"

He stepped closer, his eyes meeting mine, ignoring my sarcasm. "I need your assistance."

I was surprised by that. "Pardon me?"

His voice was low as he uttered, "I dislike repeating myself." But all right. Aria, I need your assistance.

His pronunciation of my name chilled me to the bone.

"Why would you require my assistance?" Sincerely perplexed, I inquired.

With a sigh, he combed through his well-combed hair. "I assume you've seen the news? Regarding my former fiancée

"Hard to miss," I acknowledged.

His jaw tensed as he added, "She's not just a disgruntled ex." She's attempting to destroy me. And not only will my reputation be at stake if she is successful, but also my company, my investors, and all I have worked so hard to build.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

He paused, as if unsure of how to express what he was going to say.

At last, he declared, "I need a fiancée."

I wasn't sure I heard him correctly for a second as the words lingered in the air between us.

"You what?" I squinted as I asked.

With a forceful tone, he reiterated, "I need a fiancée." "Someone who can assist me in tidying up this mess and persuade everyone that I'm not the cold-hearted jerk my ex portrays me as."

"And you believe that I'm the best candidate for the position?" I couldn't contain my disbelief as I said.

Without hesitation, he declared, "You're perfect." "You're intelligent, self-sufficient, and unconcerned with my wealth or influence. You are credible because of that.

I shook my head and laughed. "There must be a joke here."

With serious eyes, he stated, "It's not." "I'm making you an offer. For a few months, pretend that you are my fiancée. I'll settle the loan on your vineyard and give you the land back in exchange.

The thought made my heart skip a beat, but I brushed it off right away. "You're not serious."

"Totally," he replied. "Consider it. I get to repair my reputation, and you get to save your father's vineyard. It benefits both parties.

I tried to understand what he was saying as I looked at him. It sounded crazy. Utterly crazy. But I could tell he wasn't kidding by the way he was staring at me as if he wasn't going anywhere without a response.

"This is absurd," I eventually replied. "You're not even familiar with me."

"That's true," he said. However, I am aware enough to recognize your desperation. I am, too.

I couldn't ignore his remarks, even though they hurt.

"And what happens if the media discovers it isn't real?" I crossed my arms and asked.

"They won't," he declared with assurance. "We'll see to that."

I paced the room while shaking my head. This was excessive. Too crazy. The foreclosure letter on my desk, however, sprang to mind next. the bills I was unable to pay. I can't seem to grasp the vineyard.

Am I capable of doing this?

I turned to face him and said, "Let me get this straight." "You want to save the vineyard in exchange for me lying to the world and acting as though I love you?"

With a slight smile pulling at his lips, he answered, "Exactly."

"And you expect me to trust you?"

"No," he replied plainly. "But you don't have to believe that I'll accept the offer."

I detested the way he presented it as logical.

I eventually said, "I need time to think."

He said, "You don't have much." "I need to demonstrate stability to my investors at their meeting next week."

My mind was racing. When I opened the door tonight, this was the last thing I anticipated.

"You're crazy," I whispered.

"Perhaps," he answered, taking a step forward. "But if you believe you can save the vineyard by yourself, then so are you."

I didn't want to acknowledge how badly his remarks affected me.

He looked back at me as he stopped in the doorway on his way out. "Aria, consider it. You stand to lose what?

With my heart racing, I watched him make his way to his car.

What was at stake for me? More than I wished to acknowledge.