I charged my phone and waited until Miriam arrived before returning any of the calls. Greg's messages were becoming increasingly aggressive, but I didn't want to react to information I barely understood.
At eleven-fifteen, Ben called from the stone house.
Greg had arrived with two men in business clothes. They'd asked to inspect the building and surrounding grounds, saying they had an appointment to review the property's redevelopment potential.
Ben had refused access because no inspection had been authorized.
Greg demanded to speak with me.
I asked Ben to tell him all property-related inquiries needed to go through Miriam until further notice.
Ben hesitated.
"He says the house belongs to him and Samantha."
I looked at the key sitting beside my laptop.
"It doesn't. The transfer hasn't been completed."
"I thought so."
I thanked him and ended the call.
Then I drove to Miriam's office.
She had been my attorney for almost twenty years. She helped David and me reorganize the vineyard's ownership as the business expanded, and she handled the estate after his death.
She was careful, direct, and difficult to impress.
When I arrived, she had a folder waiting on the conference table.
"Tell me exactly what you gave Samantha last week," she said.
I described the lunch on the terrace, the velvet box, and the key to the stone house.
Miriam nodded.
"And what did you say about the deed?"
"That we would complete the paperwork after reviewing the property boundaries and access arrangements."
"Did you sign anything transferring ownership?"
"No."
"Did you authorize Greg to negotiate with buyers or investors?"
"Absolutely not."
She opened the folder.
The first document was a glossy investment proposal titled The Ridge at Marlow.
It included photographs of the stone house, the vineyard, the creek, and the hill overlooking the tasting room.
I recognized every image.
Several had been taken from photographs on our vineyard's website. Others appeared to have been captured during Greg's visits.
The proposal described a luxury hospitality development with private accommodation, exclusive dining facilities, and a members-only wine experience.
I turned the pages slowly.
The stone house was presented as the project's principal residence and hospitality center. The surrounding land was divided into areas proposed for guest cottages, event spaces, and landscaped grounds.
Then I saw a map.
It included more than the property I'd offered Samantha.
The proposal showed a private access road crossing part of the working vineyard and a proposed event pavilion on land I had never intended to transfer.
I stared at Miriam.
"That's our eastern production block."
She nodded.
"Greg appears to be describing rights that aren't included in the proposed gift."
I looked at the map again.
The pavilion would occupy land where David and I planted our first commercially successful vines.
Those rows had survived drought, late frost, and a difficult season when we nearly lost the entire crop.
Greg had drawn a rectangle over them and labeled it a hospitality expansion zone.
I felt my stomach tighten.
Miriam showed me another page.
The proposal identified Greg as the project developer and Samantha as the future owner of the stone-house estate.
Under a section describing property rights, it stated that the family had agreed in principle to make adjoining vineyard land and access facilities available for the development.
I looked up.
"I never agreed to that."
"I know."
"Where did they get this?"
"An investor's attorney contacted us to verify it."
Miriam explained that the attorney represented a group considering a substantial investment in Greg's proposed venture. The group wanted to confirm which property rights were available before advancing negotiations.
When Miriam asked for the ownership documents, the attorney forwarded the proposal.
Then she showed me the final page.
Attached to it was a statement titled Owner's Letter of Support.
It carried my name.
The document said I supported the proposed hospitality development and intended to cooperate with the transfer of the stone-house estate and certain additional property rights.
I had never seen it before.
At the bottom was an electronic image of my signature.
I stared at it.
The image resembled the signature from a business document I'd signed years earlier.
"Did Greg submit this?"
"We don't know who prepared it yet," Miriam said. "The investor's attorney received it as part of the proposal."
I looked down at the page.
"Is it legally binding?"
Miriam explained that the document raised serious questions, but its legal effect couldn't be determined from the investor's packet alone. She would review the underlying records and ensure the interested parties understood that I hadn't signed or authorized it.
Then she said something important.
"Whatever Greg has promised, he cannot give investors ownership of land he doesn't own."
I leaned back.
For the first time since Samantha's phone call, I felt the shape of the problem becoming clear.
The wedding wasn't simply a celebration that Greg wanted to keep socially exclusive.
It was an opportunity to bring potential investors onto my property and present a development proposal as though the required family arrangements were already settled.
And I was the one person who could contradict that story.
Miriam pointed to the guest list.
Several names Greg had added during the previous two weeks belonged to people associated with investment firms, commercial property companies, and hospitality developments.
I remembered Samantha telling me Greg had business acquaintances he wanted to invite.
I'd assumed they were friends.
Now I wondered how many had been invited primarily because Greg wanted them to see the land.
I asked Miriam what she recommended.
She said we needed to communicate clearly with the investor's attorney, the wedding vendors, and anyone relying on false representations about the property.
She also wanted the original proposal, its distribution history, and any documents containing my purported authorization preserved.
I agreed.
Then I asked about the wedding.
Miriam looked at me.
"Do you still want to host it?"
I thought about Samantha's voice.
Greg doesn't want you there.
"No."
"Then we'll address the contracts properly. Some deposits may be nonrefundable, and vendors may be entitled to payment for work they've already completed. But you don't have to continue offering your land for an event you no longer agree to host."
I nodded.
The financial loss would be significant.
But I would rather lose money on a canceled celebration than help Greg create obligations involving my property without my consent.
Before I left, Miriam sent a formal response to the investor's attorney. It stated that I remained the owner of the estate, had not authorized the purported letter of support, and had not agreed to provide additional vineyard land or access rights for the proposed development.
She also contacted Greg's attorney, requesting that no further representations be made about my property without proper authorization.
Then we turned to the wedding contracts.
The caterer had already purchased some of the food. The tent company had reserved its crew and equipment. The florist had ordered specialty flowers that couldn't necessarily be canceled without cost.
I asked Miriam to help establish the legitimate amounts owed.
I wasn't going to punish workers and suppliers because my daughter and her fiancé had treated me badly.
By midafternoon, I had a clear accounting of the deposits and potential cancellation charges. Some payments could be stopped or reduced. Others would remain my responsibility.
I accepted that.
The loss was painful, but it was manageable.
Then Samantha called again.
This time, I answered.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"I'm canceling permission to hold the wedding at the vineyard."
She gasped.
"You can't do that!"
"I can decide whether to host an event on my property."
"But everything is arranged!"
"I know."
"We have almost two hundred guests coming!"
I took a breath.
"Then you need to tell them the venue is no longer available."
She began crying.
I waited.
Then she said I'd humiliated her in front of Greg's family.
I looked at the investment proposal on my desk.
"Samantha, did you know Greg was offering investors a hospitality development involving the stone house?"
She went quiet.
"What?"
"The property I offered you. Did you know he was negotiating a commercial development?"
She hesitated.
"He said he had ideas for the estate."
"What ideas?"
"Maybe hosting private events. Something that could generate income."
I looked at the proposed map.
"Did he tell you those plans included part of my working vineyard?"
"No."
"Did he tell you he was representing that I'd agreed to give him development rights?"
She didn't answer.
Then she said Greg would explain everything once the wedding was over.
I felt a familiar ache in my chest.
She'd been willing to exclude me from my own property because Greg wanted it, but she hadn't insisted on understanding the arrangements he was making in her name.
"Samantha, I want you to ask him for the complete investment proposal. Don't settle for his description of it."
"Mom, you're making this sound much worse than it is."
"I'm asking you to read the documents."
She began crying again.
Then she said something that stopped me.
"Greg told me the transfer was already complete."
I closed my eyes.
"Did you sign a deed?"
"No."
"Did I?"
She was silent.
I explained that a key wasn't the same as a completed property transfer and that Miriam had been preparing the documents for our review.
Samantha sounded frightened now.
"Then why did Greg tell his parents the house was ours?"
I looked at the proposal.
"That's something you need to ask him."
After we ended the call, I sat quietly for several minutes.
I had expected Samantha to defend Greg.
I hadn't expected her to sound as though she was discovering the truth at the same time I was.
Then Ben called.
The men who'd arrived with Greg had left the property, but one of them had given Ben a business card before departing.
Ben read the name.
It belonged to a representative of a private investment firm.
On the back, the man had written a question for me.
Has Andrea approved the vineyard's proposed sale?
I stared at the words.
Greg hadn't merely been discussing ways to develop the stone house.
Someone believed he was preparing to sell part of my vineyard.
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: Greg Came to My Farmhouse Demanding the Deed, but His Own Investment Documents Revealed What He Had Promised Before the Wedding
My Daughter Said I Wasn’t Welcome at Her Wedding, So I Stopped Paying for the Celebration She Planned on My Vineyard
Part 2 of 10
