Chapter 581 Gwen's POV I woke up at six in the morning, before my alarm even went off. The mix of anxiety and excitement had barely let me sleep at all. By seven, Nick and I were in the shed, taking stock of what we had to work with. Old wood that was still solid. Empty wine barrels. Rope. Tools that were rusty but usable. At eight, we were in town buying what was missing. Solar LED lights. Paint. Brushes. A few meters of sturdy fabric for picnic blankets. Cheap terracotta pots. Lavender seedlings.

Nick paid for everything in cash, counting the bills carefully, and I saw the way his jaw tightened when the total was announced. It wasn't much. But for someone in his situation, it probably felt like a small fortune. I placed my hand briefly on his arm. "It'll be worth it," I whispered. He nodded but didn't say anything. Back at the property, we got to work. Nick, I, and two employees who usually worked in the vineyards but had volunteered to help. We started with the tables. Improvised ones, made from wooden planks resting on sawhorses and barrels. They weren't perfect.

The surfaces weren't completely level. But they had rustic charm, especially once we covered them with the fabric we'd bought. "Hold this end," Nick said, handing me one of the tablecloths. I took it, and our hands brushed for a second longer than necessary as we stretched the fabric. Our eyes met. He smiled faintly before stepping away to secure the other side. Next came the signs. We painted simple phrases: Tonight at 7 p.m., Follow the Lights. We fixed them along the path leading up to the hilltop.

Nick painted with steady, precise movements, the tip of his tongue appearing slightly at the corner of his mouth when he concentrated. I caught him watching me more than once, and every time our eyes met, that familiar warmth crept up my cheeks. "You've got paint on your face," he said at one point, stepping closer. "Where?" He lifted his hand, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek to wipe the smudge away. "Here," he said softly, his eyes locked on mine.

way he was looking at me like- "Nick!" one of the workers called out. "I need help over here!" He stepped back, wiping his hand on a rag, and went to help. But not before giving me a look that made it very clear he'd felt the moment too. The lights went up next, placed carefully. Along the path. Around the

everything was set up. It wouldn't be perfect. We'd need to improve a lot later, add finishing touches, make adjustments. But for a first experience, it was more than enough. The tables were set with simple but pretty place settings. Candles in glass jars waited to be lit. The lavender pots added pops of color and a soft scent. The

uniquely his. "We did," I agreed. At exactly five o'clock, we started bringing the guests up. Some chose the tour truck, with Paula driving. Others took the bicycles. I went by bike as well, leading the small group and making sure

bellissimo!" "This is absolutely incredible," the American woman said to her husband, already pulling out her phone to take pictures. Martina arrived soon after with Nick, carrying the food in thermal containers. The incredible smell of meat pasta, fresh bread, and herbs immediately filled the air. As everyone settled at the tables, I moved among them like a hostess, making

my best professional smile, "if you post photos on social media and tag Valemont Estate, you'll automatically be entered to win a free weekend stay here with us!" Phones came out instantly. Photos were taken from every possible angle. The grapevine arch framed by the colorful sky. The mountain views. The beautiful plates of food. Selfies. Group shots. Exactly like Zoey had said it would

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