Greg arrived at the farmhouse just after five on Thursday. Samantha was with him, along with his father, Richard. Ben called from the main gate to tell me they were waiting, and I asked him to direct them to the farmhouse rather than the stone house.
Miriam was still with me.
I'd asked her to stay because I wanted the discussion to remain focused on the property arrangements. I knew Samantha would be upset, and I expected Greg to argue, but I wasn't prepared to negotiate legal documents while everyone was shouting.
Greg entered first.
He looked immaculate in a navy jacket and expensive shoes. Samantha followed, her eyes red from crying. Richard came last, carrying a leather portfolio.
Greg didn't sit down.
"Andrea, this has gotten completely out of hand."
I looked at him.
"What has?"
"You've locked us out of our house, canceled the venue, and started calling my business partners."
Miriam spoke before I could answer.
"The house hasn't been transferred, and Andrea has not authorized any business arrangement involving the property."
Greg glanced at her.
"I was told the gift was unconditional."
I looked at Samantha.
"Your mother intended to give you the estate," Miriam clarified. "The documents remained under review and were not executed."
Greg shook his head.
"We have a wedding in less than forty-eight hours."
"Then I suggest we discuss your plans for it," I said.
Richard placed his portfolio on the table. He introduced himself formally, as though we hadn't met several times before, and explained that his family's hospitality company was exploring a promising investment opportunity.
He described The Ridge at Marlow as an exclusive destination that could attract affluent visitors, provide employment, and increase the surrounding property's value.
I listened.
Then I asked why his investors had been told I supported the project.
Richard hesitated.
Greg answered.
"Because you were giving us the estate."
"The stone house and its adjoining parcel," I replied. "Not the entire vineyard."
He waved his hand.
"The additional land arrangements were preliminary."
I opened the proposal to the map showing the event pavilion and access road.
"Did you consider asking me before putting these on land I own?"
Greg looked irritated.
"Andrea, you're not going to use every acre forever."
I felt my expression change.
"What?"
"You're sixty-five. At some point, you'll want to simplify your life. This would give you an excellent opportunity to realize the property's value."
I stared at him.
David and I had spent decades developing that land. Greg had been visiting for barely eighteen months, yet he was speaking as though the vineyard were an outdated possession waiting to become useful under his management.
Rosa and Ben were preparing for the next growing season. Our employees depended on the business. We had distributor agreements, production schedules, and customers who had placed orders months in advance.
Greg seemed unaware of any of it.
"I'm not planning to sell my vineyard," I said.
Richard leaned forward.
"Andrea, no one's asking you to make a final decision this evening."
Miriam turned toward him.
"Then why did your investor receive a proposal describing the sale?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Greg reached for the folder.
"Those were conceptual plans."
"Did you prepare the owner's letter of support?" Miriam asked.
Greg looked toward Samantha.
She stared at him.
"What letter?"
I slid a copy across the table.
Samantha read the first paragraph, then looked at the signature.
"Mom, did you sign this?"
"No."
She turned toward Greg.
"Where did this come from?"
He said someone on his development team had assembled the documents from earlier correspondence and that the signature was intended to show support in principle.
Miriam asked him to identify the correspondence authorizing that representation.
He couldn't.
Richard suggested the letter could be withdrawn and replaced once the final ownership documents were completed.
I looked at him.
"There won't be a replacement. I haven't agreed to this project."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Greg turned toward Samantha.
"Tell your mother what we discussed."
She looked frightened.
"We discussed using the stone house for events someday."
"And the cottages?"
"You said we might build a few if the property allowed it."
I watched her face.
She was beginning to realize the plans she'd heard about were different from the proposal Greg had shown investors.
Miriam opened the next page.
The investor presentation included a projected sale of additional vineyard acreage and the creation of development access rights across the existing farm.
It also referred to a possible future acquisition of the entire vineyard if I decided to retire.
Greg had included that possibility in his financial projections.
Samantha looked at the page.
"Why does it say Mom's planning to sell?"
Greg exhaled impatiently.
"Because eventually she will."
I felt my stomach turn.
He hadn't discussed my retirement with me. He had simply assumed I would step aside once the property became more valuable to him.
Then Richard spoke.
"Andrea, you need to understand that Greg has already spent a considerable amount developing this proposal."
I looked at him.
"That was his decision."
"Investors have committed resources."
"Based on representations I didn't authorize."
Richard's expression hardened.
He said I was placing the Whitmore family's reputation at risk and that canceling the wedding would create unnecessary uncertainty about the property's future.
I almost laughed.
They were worried about the reputation of a development company that had been presenting my land as though it were available without my agreement.
Samantha looked at her fiancé.
"Greg, why did you tell me the deed was finished?"
He frowned.
"I said it was being handled."
"You said the house belonged to us."
"It will, once your mother stops making everything difficult."
Samantha looked down at the key she'd been carrying since the lunch on the terrace.
I felt sorry for her.
I also remembered her telling me I wasn't welcome at her wedding.
Both feelings could exist together.
I wasn't going to abandon her because Greg had misled her. But I wasn't going to give her an eight-million-dollar estate while she continued treating me as an embarrassment.
"There's something I want to understand," I said.
Greg looked at me.
"Why wasn't I supposed to attend the wedding?"
Richard shifted in his chair.
Greg answered that his mother was concerned about the differences between our families and wanted the event to feel sophisticated.
I looked around my farmhouse.
The antique dining table was polished. Fresh flowers stood beside the windows, and the vineyard's award-winning wines were stored in the cellar beneath us.
"Was I supposed to stay inside this house while two hundred people celebrated outside?"
Samantha began crying.
Greg sighed.
"Andrea, no one was trying to humiliate you."
I looked at him.
"Then tell me what you intended."
He didn't answer.
Finally, Samantha spoke.
"Vivian said the investors would be there, and she didn't want anyone asking why you were wearing your work clothes."
I looked at my daughter.
"Did you think I was going to attend your wedding in work boots?"
She wiped her face.
"No."
"Then why didn't you defend me?"
She stared at the table.
Greg interrupted.
"This isn't productive."
I turned toward him.
"It wasn't supposed to be."
For the first time, I understood why his family wanted me absent. The wedding was an opportunity to impress investors, and my presence might lead to questions about the actual ownership of the estate and the operating vineyard.
I was the person who could contradict the image Greg had created.
They didn't need me to be unsophisticated.
They needed me to be invisible.
Miriam closed the proposal.
"The wedding arrangements and the property transaction are separate matters. Andrea has withdrawn permission to hold the event here. She has also declined to proceed with the proposed property transfer at this time."
Greg stared at her.
"You can't just take back an eight-million-dollar gift."
Miriam explained that any enforceable rights would depend on the actual documents and circumstances, but the proposed deed had not been executed or delivered. She wasn't going to debate the matter in my kitchen.
If Greg wanted to make a formal claim, his attorney could contact her.
I stood.
"I think this meeting is finished."
Richard collected his portfolio.
Before leaving, he warned me that I might regret destroying my daughter's wedding over a disagreement that could have been settled privately.
I looked at him.
"The wedding could have happened here. All Samantha had to do was want her mother present."
He had no answer.
Greg walked toward the door.
Samantha remained beside the table.
For a moment, I thought she would ask to stay.
Then Greg called her name.
She looked at me.
I wanted to reach for her.
Instead, I let her make her own decision.
She followed him out.
After the cars left, I walked onto the terrace. The sun was setting behind the western vines, turning the hills gold.
Miriam joined me.
"You handled that carefully."
I shook my head.
"I wanted to scream."
"I know."
I looked toward the stone house.
"Do you think Samantha understands what he's doing?"
"She has information now. What she does with it is her decision."
I knew Miriam was right.
But the thought of Samantha marrying someone who'd misled her about a transaction involving her own future frightened me.
That evening, I received a message from Greg.
He said his attorney would address the property dispute and that I needed to stop interfering with his business.
Then another message arrived.
It contained a photograph of a document titled Preliminary Investment Commitment.
I opened it.
The document described a substantial investor deposit that Greg had apparently negotiated against the proposed hospitality development.
The investor expected certain property arrangements to be confirmed shortly after the wedding.
If those arrangements couldn't be completed, Greg's development company might have to return money it had already received or spent.
I called Miriam.
She asked me to forward the document immediately.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
"Andrea, if he's already used those funds, the pressure on Samantha may be much greater than either of you realizes."
Click here to continue reading: PART 4: The Wedding Vendors Learned Why the Vineyard Was Closed, and Greg’s Mother Tried to Make Me Pay for the Celebration Anyway
My Daughter Said I Wasn’t Welcome at Her Wedding, So I Stopped Paying for the Celebration She Planned on My Vineyard
Part 3 of 10
