"Excuse me, Miss?"
An unfamiliar male voice pulled Anna from her thoughts, prompting her to turn with another warm, practiced smile—the kind expected from the hostess of such an event.
"Yes?" she responded politely, taking a moment to assess the man who had approached her.
He appeared to be in his early fifties, tall and impeccably composed. A full head of silver-streaked hair crowned his head, and his neatly trimmed beard framed a face that had aged with striking grace. Despite the years, his features remained sharp and undeniably charismatic.
He wore a tailored ensemble consisting of fitted black trousers, a sleek black shirt, and a matching vest fastened with gilded buttons. His broad shoulders and confident stance made it clear—this was a man who had never stopped taking care of himself.
"I hope I'm not intruding," he said, his voice smooth yet slightly hesitant as he noticed the intensity of Anna's gaze. "But are you Miss Chloe Dumas—the owner of this vineyard?"
