Chapter 23

Twenty-Three

Gia

A fter we made up, I spent most nights with Silas. We couldn’t seem to get enough of each other and, on some level, needed to be close. Since we’d declared our love for each other, I felt freer. Like I could do anything.

Thankfully, Matteo and Carlo took Leo’s lead and were okay with my relationship with Silas. I suspected they might have threatened retaliation if Silas ever hurt me, but he wouldn’t admit it to me.

Today, we were meeting with the Monroe family to discuss the possibility of Ireland holding her wedding there. I was prepared to campaign hard for her. I knew she wanted to get married and have a holiday wedding, and I wanted the Monroes to see that a partnership would be advantageous to both of us.

My plan was to go in there and act as if the wedding was going to happen. I wouldn’t let them make any excuses or put us off anymore. This was their last chance to work with us. I wouldn’t make any more offers.

I hadn’t discussed my plans with Silas because I was confident my approach would work, and if it didn’t, I was ready to walk away. There was nothing more effective in business than when the other person knew you were willing to leave the deal on the table.

I drove to the farm and parked next to Ireland’s car, outside the red barn that doubled as a shop for the holiday season. The rolling fields of trees in various stages of growth, in their even and orderly lines, solidified my desire to secure the venue for Ireland.

I got out of my car and went over to Ireland, who’d already gotten out.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Ireland asked nervously.

“If it doesn’t, then I’m going to walk away. It’s important that they know that. There’s nothing more important during negotiations than your willingness to walk away.”

She licked her lips. “But I thought you really wanted this partnership?”

“At this point, I’m feeling like they’re not ever going to go through with it. No matter what Lori told us in the beginning, her sons run this place. It’s their decision that matters, and I don’t think Emmett will change his mind.”

Ireland blew out a breath. “Yeah, he’s stubborn and completely against holding weddings on the farm.”

“Today, we’ll go in there and act like the wedding is going to happen, but if they say no, that’s it. I’m done.”

“Is that a bluff?”

“Nope. I’m done with the Monroes after this conversation. I reached out to several other Christmas tree farms, and a few are interested in working with us. They’re farther away, but I’d be willing to talk to them.”

Ireland nodded. “We have options. Got it.”

For me, it wasn’t just about Ireland’s wedding. I wanted to make her dream come true, but not being underestimated in this business deal was more important for me. I didn’t give in, especially when this had gone on as long as it had.

“Let’s do it,” I said.

At Lori’s request, we went inside the barn, where Emmett, his brothers, and Lori waited by the counter. This was the first time we’d seen his brothers.

“Thank you for coming,” Lori said, making her way to us for hugs.

I heard a snort, and I was positive it was Emmett.

Lori stepped back. “These are my sons. You’ve already met Emmett. This is Talon, Heath, Sebastian, and Knox."

I shook each one’s hands. All five of them were larger men, with barrel chests and scruff on their face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You said you have a proposition for us,” Lori prompted me.

“Is there somewhere we can sit? A meeting room perhaps?”

“I have a craft room in the back. It’s big enough for everyone.” We followed her to the dark room. She flipped on the lights. There was a large table in the middle and wall-to-wall cupboards on the walls.

“Emmett made these. He’s good with his hands.”

Emmett stiffened.

Ireland’s cheeks flushed, and I barely restrained the twitch of my lips at Lori’s unwitting innuendo.

We sat around the table, Ireland and me on one side, and the Monroes lined up on the other. Emmett remained standing.

“Sit down. I don’t want to crane my neck to talk to you. I’m sure these ladies don’t either,” Lori admonished him.

Emmett crossed his beefy arms over his chest. “I don’t much care what they think.”

Lori lowered her voice and spoke in a tone that could only be described as a mother who shouldn’t be messed with. “You will sit while we are talking. It’s the polite thing to do.”

Emmett finally sat in the chair at the end of the table, which was telling for me. As the eldest, he was the one who’d make the final decision.

“Do you work the farm year-round?” I asked them, curious if the holiday season was their sole moneymaker.

“Sebastian is an accountant and our bookkeeper. Emmett has a furniture business on the side, Knox has a landscaping business, and Talon is an artist of sorts; he makes things out of metal.”

“Are you the one who makes the metal trees that are displayed in the shop?” I asked Talon.

“I do those because my mother wants me to provide something to the store, but I usually create lighting and other decorative items for the home. They have an industrial feel.”

“I’d love to see them sometime.” I wondered if there was something we could use for weddings in Lily’s barn.

“Heath bartends in the off-season, and a few of their cousins work here during the busy season too.”

“The business isn’t sustaining the family year-round?” I asked, needing a better view of what I was working with.

“That’s none of your business,” Emmett interjected.

“It’s okay, Emmett. We make a good living those few months, but with all of us working here, we need more. That’s why they have side businesses. I think there are ways we could increase our income, and that’s why we agreed to meet with you today.”

Irritation flitted over Emmett’s face. “Say whatever it is you have to say.”

His gruffness didn’t get to me. Yet Silas never failed to set me off in conversations. With a professional expression and tone, I said, “Ireland’s getting married, and she would love to have the wedding on your farm. It’s her dream.”

Emmett arched a brow, his entire body stiff as he looked at Ireland. “You’re engaged?”

Ireland smiled and lifted the sparkling diamond on her finger. It was huge, probably a testament to her fiancé’s bank account. Ireland came from money, and her fiancé came from the same social circle. I had a feeling once they were married, she’d quit working for me. She probably wouldn’t need the income, and working as an event planner was beneath her social status.

Emmett shifted in his seat. “You want to get married on my farm?”

I had a feeling that Emmett was attracted to Ireland, and his reaction only confirmed that suspicion.

Ireland was thoughtful for a few seconds. “It’s my dream to get married on a Christmas tree farm. I think it would be romantic.”

I believed her when she said she wanted to get married on a Christmas tree farm. I wasn’t so sure her fiancé would agree with the venue. But my job was to secure the farm for future Happily Ever Afters weddings, not inquire as to Ireland’s relationship with her fiancé.

Emmett leaned his elbows on the table. “Weddings are a one-day party. Marriages are forever.”

Her cheeks flushed. “What are you saying?”

Emmett waved a hand in her direction. “Brides don’t understand what they’re getting into. They get so caught up in the one-day party, they forget they are pledging themselves to someone for life.”

Ireland leaned forward and asked shrewdly, “Are you talking from personal experience?”

Emmett flinched at her comment, and Lori looked uncomfortable.

I’d bet anything that Emmett had been jilted by an ex. Was he left at the altar? What would that do to a person? Was that why he was reluctant to allow weddings on his property?

Desperate to get this back on track, I continued as if Emmett hadn’t revealed anything. “I’m proposing that Ireland’s wedding be held here as a trial. We can have it early in the season, maybe Thanksgiving weekend.”

“That’s one of the busiest weekends of the season,” Emmett bit out.

“Is there a quiet weekend we can hold it in December?” I asked sweetly, already knowing the answer.

Talon shook his head. “It only gets busier.”

“That’s why I’m proposing Thanksgiving weekend. It will be holiday themed for Ireland, but it allows you to have most of the season without any weddings, if that’s what you choose. Then you can decide if it’s worth it to hold more. It doesn’t make sense to say no until we give it a shot. We have ways to reduce parking issues and crowds.” I slid my proposal across the table to Emmett. It was a power move, one acknowledging that I knew he was the one making this decision, not his mother or even his brothers.

“You’re used to getting what you want,” Emmett said.

“And if I don’t, I walk away. This is the final offer. You won’t see me on your farm again.” My heart was pounding hard, but I kept my expression smooth.

Emmett’s gaze flashed to Ireland. “What about you, sweetheart? I thought you had to have your wedding here?”

Ireland’s eyes widened at the label. “Gia’s reached out to other farms. I love your place, but there are always other options. I’ve even reached out to Longwood Gardens in Pennsylvania.”

Lori sucked in a breath. “You would get married at Longwood?”

It was obvious that Lori knew the gravity of Ireland’s statement. She had options and the money to back it up.

Ireland hadn’t confided in me, and I had a feeling it was James who wanted to get married there. I couldn’t even imagine what renting the Dupont Estate would cost at Christmas when it was decorated, and so many people visited to see the lights. “That would be amazing.”

Ireland smiled at me. “That’s where James wants to hold the wedding.”

Emmett slapped the table with his bare hand. “Would you mind leaving the room so we can discuss it as a family?”

I smiled, knowing that we’d done what we intended to. “Of course.”

We filed out of the room, and Emmett closed the door behind us.

“Well? What do you think will happen?” Ireland turned to face me.

I smiled triumphantly. “You closed the deal with your talk about Longwood.”

Ireland slowly shook her head. “Oh, that wasn’t talk. James wants to hold the wedding there.”

My forehead wrinkled. “I can’t imagine what that would cost—”

Ireland smiled tightly. “Money isn’t something we’re worried about.”

Ireland’s take on money was so refreshing. She’d mentioned over the years that money gave you freedom, not happiness. She was grounded despite the size of her trust fund or the way she grew up.

“If money is no object, and you could get married anywhere in the world, is this the location you would want?”

Ireland opened her mouth to answer, but the door to the craft room opened and Emmett walked out.

His jaw was tight, his expression guarded as he handed me the contract. “You’ve got yourself a deal. But Ireland is my point of contact.”

I scanned the document to ensure it had been signed. Looking up from the paperwork, I asked, “Do you want to plan your own wedding?”

Ireland shrugged. “I can do it.”

“Well, you have us as your assistants. Whatever you need.”

“You want to walk the grounds and pick the location?” Emmett asked, and I wondered what had changed his mind and why he was being so accommodating.

“We’ve taken a tour before, and there’s a map of proposed locations.”

A muscle in Emmett’s jaw ticked. “I think the bride should walk the grounds again and make her choice.”

Ireland was nodding before I could make sense of Emmett’s insistence. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

I checked my phone. “I have to meet with my dad soon. Can you handle this?”

“Of course,” Ireland said, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Emmett wanted to deal with her personally, so it didn’t make sense for me to stay. “Call me if you need anything,” I said to Ireland.

I shook Emmett’s hand. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already do,” he mumbled as I walked away.

I was thrilled that Ireland got what she wanted, and hopefully, it was the start of a profitable business relationship with the Monroes. I was confident that once Ireland’s wedding went smoothly, they’d come around to the idea and see the advantage. It would build and expand their brand, especially if their mother wanted to extend their busy season to other holidays.

I was flying high as I drove toward the original pizzeria in Annapolis. When I got there, Leo said, “Papà and Mamma are in the back.”

“Wish me good luck,” I said with a self-deprecating smile.

“You won’t need it. It will be fine,” Leo said with confidence as he resumed filling the condiments at the tables.

I shook my head, not believing that things between me and my father would ever be great, and continued in the direction of the office.

Leo stopped me when he said, “Oh, I wanted to say I’m happy for you.”

My forehead wrinkled as I turned to face him. “For what?”

Leo dipped his chin. “For giving Silas a chance. He’s a good guy.”

I wanted to argue with him for old times' sake, but it felt good to tell him the truth. “He’s the best.”

“I’m glad you found each other,” Leo said sincerely.

“How do Matteo and Carlo feel about it?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Once they see that you two are happy, they’ll be fine,” Leo said.

I chuckled without any humor. “I hope so. I don’t need any more tension in the family.”

He waved his hand toward the back. “Go talk to them. They’re waiting for you.”

I nodded and made my way to the back. My heart rate kicked up as I got closer. Would this be one more time when we wouldn’t agree? Would Papà tell me he was disappointed in me?

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door, which was slightly ajar. “You wanted to talk?”

Mamma hugged me. “We’re so happy to see you.”

I looked at Papà to see if that was true.

His expression was pained, and at Mamma’s nod, he said, “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting.”

My entire body softened. I couldn’t believe he’d admitted that he was different with me. “I haven’t been the best daughter either.”

Papà held up his hand. “Let me finish. I would love for you to work with me. You’re brilliant and hardworking. But it was wrong of me to pressure you to come back, to make you think I wasn’t proud of you and your business.”

“You are?” I asked, a little surprised.

Papà nodded. “I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

“But you said no one would ever pay for an event planner,” I said, feeling more than a little confused.

“I was wrong. You’ve obviously made a name for yourself, and you’ve built a successful business.”

“Thank you.” I couldn’t believe he was saying the words I’d been striving to hear for so long. It was funny because I’d stopped believing I needed them, but they still felt good.

“If you wanted to come back and work here, I wouldn’t let you,” Papà said.

“Why?”

“You have built something special, and I think you should focus on that.”

I chewed my lip for a few seconds, wondering how I could express what I was feeling. “I thought you were disappointed in me.”

Papà hugged me and said gruffly, “Never. I could never be disappointed in you.”

I returned the hug, relaxing in the knowledge that my family was okay with what I was doing. When he stepped away, I asked, “Did you know I’m writing a book?”

“I didn’t hear anything about that,” Mamma said.

“I want passive income. My business is service based, and no matter how much we try to streamline things with packages, it’s a lot of work.”

“It’s the same with the restaurant.”

“That’s why I decided to offer a digital course on wedding planning to other planners and write a book outlining my struggles and successes. I have so much information to share; it just made sense. There’s not much offered in the wedding planning space.”

“I don’t understand what you mean by a digital course.”

“It’s a big thing in the online world,” Mamma said. “I’ve heard about it. People offer courses in their expertise.”

I was surprised by her confession. “Nonfiction books are supposed to be easier to sell than fiction and complement a course nicely. Plus, you can self-publish now, and you don’t have to go through the hoops of a traditional publishing house, and you can keep a higher profit.”

As we talked about my plans, it was clear Papà didn’t understand the value of the course, but he understood what it meant to write a book. He seemed proud of me, and I hoped we’d fixed the rift between us.

When I was ready to head out, Papà gruffly said, “You know that boy loves you.”

“Boy? You mean Silas?” When Papà nodded, I said, “He’s hardly a boy.”

“He’s a good man. I told him he was lucky to have you.”

“Well, of course, he is,” Mamma agreed.

“Are you saying you’re okay with me seeing him?” I asked them both.

“He’s good for you,” Papà said.

In the past, I would have bristled at a comment like that, but now, I appreciated it. “I think so too.”

“You’re open to love now,” Mamma said, and it wasn’t a question.

“I am.” I wasn’t afraid to admit it.

“I want you to be happy,” Mamma said.

“I am happy, but not because of Silas. He helped me see there was more to life than work. That I could work less and make more.”

“I’ve been trying to tell your father that for years, but he doesn’t believe me.”

“I like working. My favorite part is talking to the customers, reminiscing about when my children were tagging along behind me,” Papà said with affection.

Papà made Giovanni’s special. Without my parents, Giovanni’s wouldn’t be the same.