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The phone on her desk blared It was probably the kitchen wondering if Gabe wanted a lightly poached egg with his breakfast Polly glared at it before pressing the speakerphone button

‘Polly Rafferty’

‘You’re horizzled, curt tones

‘Hello, Grandfather I hope you’re feeling better’ He at least hadn’t expected her to go back to Hopeford before returning to work But then Charles Rafferty had never actually taken a holiday—his bucket list probably read ‘spend more time in the office’

Her grandfather et down to some serious work after your little holiday’ Polly bit back the obvious retorts; it hadn’t been a holiday, she had left the co weekend off in the last five years

But as the point? Words wouldn’t change him

‘Have you met Beaufils yet?’

Polly couldn’t stop her eyes flicking towards the cloakroo man’

‘He’s Vincent’s boy, Gabriel You know Chateau Beaufils of course, we’ve been their exclusive UK stockist for decades He’s the only son’

‘That doesn’t explain why he’s here’ Her voice was sharper than she had intended

She didn’t want her grandfather to kno much Gabe’s presence had shaken her

‘Oh, he’s not here because of the vineyard although that’s a good connection of course Man did sos at Desood balance for you’

‘Good balance for h or cry Balance or replacerandfather want this young man instead? Just how much did she have to do before he finally accepted her? ‘I really think I should have been consulted’

‘No’ Her grandfather’s ansas as sharp as it was unequivocal ‘Vice CEO is a board decision We need soths frohshod over’

Talk about the pot and the kettle Polly glared at the phone