The Feud (Bluegrass Empires #1) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Bluegrass Empires Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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I stick out my hand in gratitude. “I really appreciate you taking time tonight. I can’t imagine how difficult your job is but to show this level of interest in Sylvie goes above and beyond. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

Marcie’s hand is warm and soft but her grip is sure. “Treat that child like a princess, and you will have repaid me. Because that means things will have worked out in the end.”

“You have my promise.”

I see Marcie out the door and don’t close it until she’s in her vehicle and pulling down the driveway. After locking up, I join Sylvie in the kitchen where I find her sitting at the butcher-block table. Two glasses of lemonade sit there along with the cookie tin. She has a half-eaten sugar cookie in her hand.

I pull out the chair opposite her, take a moment to enjoy a sip of lemonade, and as I’m setting it down, I ask, “How did things go?”

It’s like Sylvie grew up or matured in the time she’d been gone. She doesn’t glare at me or look away. Her gaze locks on me. “Ms. DeLeon has convinced me to give you a fair shot. I understand that I am stuck here and that if the judge is going to take me seriously, I have got to show him that I made an effort. So, I’m going to.”

I drum my fingers on the table. “It was that simple? Haven’t I been saying the same thing to you?” I try for levity, but it seems to fall flat because Sylvie’s expression remains stoic and unapproachable.

“She also pointed out that things weren’t exactly better over at Lionel and Rosemund’s house. The truth is, I know them only slightly better than I know you. Neither situation is good for me. Ms. DeLeon said that you might be willing to take me back to France to visit. I know the Mardraggons would not.”

I would absolutely take her back to France to visit as much as she wants and as my schedule allows. Hell, my parents love traveling and they would happily take her back there frequently… possibly even for an entire summer. But I don’t promise that right away. I’m more curious about something else.

“Why would Lionel and Rosemund not take you back to France? They own the winery there.”

Sylvie looks conflicted for a moment, then she admits, “They only care that the winery makes money. They never went to visit it. I overheard them talking to Uncle Gabe that they wanted to sell the winery after Maman died.”

I don’t know how I feel about that but admittedly, the way Sylvie referred to Alaine tugs at my heartstrings. That is the first time she’s referenced her mother like that and there was so much love and longing in her tone, my heart aches for her.

As for selling the winery, I’m adamantly opposed to the Mardraggons having any measure of success. I’m not sure whether selling the winery would be a failure or a good business maneuver, but a bit of sadness is what strikes me. “But that’s your legacy.”

Another first happens and Sylvie actually shows some positive emotion.

Gratitude.

I can see it swimming in her eyes that I understand something about her.

“Maman taught me everything she’d learned about wine making. She always told me that I’d be running the winery one day. I’ll be very sad if it gets sold because no matter what happens, I want to go back there one day.”

I hate the Mardraggons as much as they hate me. I can’t fathom doing anything that would ever put a dime of my money into their pockets but for some strange reason, I have the overwhelming thought of buying the winery for Sylvie to take over one day. My entire family would call it foolish but apparently rationality isn’t always at play when you’re a father.

I push that thought aside with a note to get up with Todd Gillam and find out what the deal is with the ownership interest there. In particular, why the Mardraggons would ever want to sell it when making alcohol is in their blood.

Instead, I say, “I’m not saying this so you give me more of a chance than the Mardraggons… but I can absolutely promise you that if you stay with us, we will get you back to France to visit your friends as often as possible. My parents love to travel and they can take you during school breaks and over the summer. I’ll make time to take you myself.”

Disbelief washes over Sylvie’s face but she quickly brushes it aside. She also blinks her eyes repetitively, indicating that my offer may have touched her deeply.

Again, she gives me one French word. “Merci.”

Even if she gets up from the table and walks to her room right now, I’ll consider this evening a solid win. But I feel the need to say more. “Sylvie… I know this is hard on you and I think you’re a smart girl and you can understand that it’s been hard on me too. But I don’t want this to be difficult for either one of us. I appreciate that you’re going to give this an honest effort and I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. If you need something I’m not providing, please let me know. I will do whatever I can to make this work for you. And that includes if, in the end, you want to go back and live with the Mardraggons. I will help you do that too.”


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