Something in the Wine Read online
Page 6
Oh, yeah, sure. Annie couldn’t even count anymore how often she had heard that sentence in her life. She sighed. “I’ll go and get started on the attic. Just come up whenever you’re done.”
Without looking away from her easel, her mother nodded.
When Annie—sweating and dusty—climbed down from the now clean attic four hours later, her mother was still painting.
* * *
“In three hundred feet, turn right on Taylor Road,” the female voice of Annie’s navigation system said.
Annie passed a golf course, turned right as instructed, and continued on an empty two-lane road. Vines grew to either side of her, long rows stretching into the horizon, and she wondered whether any of them belonged to Drew. She slowed down to enjoy the beauty of the area for a while longer.
A large sign announced “Corbin Vineyards and Winery,” and the navigation system led her onto a gravel road that was getting narrower as it climbed up the hills. She steered the car around a bend.
To her left, the afternoon sun reflected off a small lake. An artificial waterfall pattered down on lotus and water lilies. At the edge of the lake, a large farm-style house lay surrounded by vineyards.
Oh, how beautiful. Annie stopped the car and stared for a few moments. Part of her wanted to stay and watch the waterfall create little rainbows where the spray hit the lake, but then she gave herself a mental shove and drove up to the house.
She pulled into a small parking area in front of the house, parked beneath a large oak, and lifted the framed print out of the trunk.
The doors of a glass-enclosed patio were open, but no one was in sight.
Hesitantly, she walked up the three steps. She lingered in the doorway that separated the veranda from the inside of the house. “Hello? Drew?”
“Come on in,” Drew called from a room to the right. “I’m running a bit late.”
As soon as Annie stepped inside, a large dog raced up to her, wagging its tail.
Annie froze. Oh my God! Is this a dog or a pony?
The dog circled her and sniffed every inch of her slacks, taking special interest in her calves, where Amadeus had left a bit of hair. She held the print in front of herself like a shield. “Um, Drew?”
Drew stuck her head around the doorjamb. “Oh. I’m sorry. I forgot I left the door open. He’s supposed to guard the barrel room.” With a dish towel across her shoulder, she strode toward Annie and the dog. “Cab, sit! Now say a proper hello.”
Without hesitation, the dog dropped to his haunches and offered Annie his paw.
“Aw. Hello there.” Annie set down the print and carefully gripped the dog’s paw, then let go and stroked the large head. “What kind of dog is he?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. His mother was a black Labrador. His father might have been an Irish wolfhound, but we’re not sure.”
“And his name is Cab?”
Drew gave a rueful smile. “Short for Cabernet, my father’s favorite wine.”
“You won’t get any teasing comments from me. I named my cat Amadeus, after my father’s favorite composer.” Annie petted the dog one last time, then straightened and handed Drew the framed print.
“A gift? For me?”
“Well,” Annie shrugged, “I couldn’t bring a bottle of wine, so I brought this.”
A cold nose nudged Annie’s hand, and she caressed Cab’s floppy ears while she watched Drew unwrap the gift.
The paper fell away, revealing the print.
Drew stared at the image of frost-hung vines. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a print of one of my mother’s paintings. When she heard that you’re a fan, she thought you might like it.”
“I love it.” Drew cradled the print between both hands. “Thank you. And please tell your mother thanks from me too.” She carried the print into the living room.
The dog trotted after her.
“Come on in,” Drew called over her shoulder, still looking at the print.
Annie followed her and took in the living room.
Oak furniture and a large worn leather couch clashed with a bright red armchair. Dozens of DVDs stood next to leather-bound books, and a large flat-screen TV towered over an old record player. Gold-lettered certificates and black-and-white photos hung side by side with modern art. Above the fireplace, a painting portrayed a sunrise over an old farmhouse.
Annie wasn’t an expert on art by any means—though God knew her mother had tried—but something about the brushwork seemed familiar. When she looked at the initials in one corner of the painting, she realized it was one of her mother’s. It seemed Drew really was a fan and hadn’t just said so to get into Annie’s good graces.
She took another step into the living room and let herself be surrounded by its subtle smells. They, too, were an interesting combination: wood, leather, freshly baked bread, and Drew’s perfume. The living room was a curious mix of masculine and feminine, old and new, traditional and modern.
It made Annie wonder whether Drew shared the large house with her parents.
What will her parents think if they come in and find me here? Will they think I’m her lover?
“Make yourself at home.” Drew gestured to the couch. “I’ll go put the cheese back in the fridge, then I’ll take you on a tour.”
On the way to the couch, Annie let her gaze trail over the black-and-white photos. In the pictures, people were pressing grapes by stomping on them. It seemed the vineyard had been owned by Drew’s family for decades already.
When Drew walked away, Annie sat on the couch.
Cab jumped up after her and laid his head on her thigh.
Annie flinched. His head was big—and so were his teeth. “Are you allowed on the couch?”
But when he looked at her with his brown eyes while his tail thumped against the couch, she couldn’t resist petting him.
Drew returned. She shook her head at the dog. “Cab, off. Don’t bother our guest.”
Cab looked at Annie with mournful eyes and then jumped down from the couch.
“He’s not bothering me,” Annie said.
“I thought you were a cat person?”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t like dogs. I don’t know much about them, but I like them.”
Drew looked at Cab. “Lucky you.”
“He’s very friendly for a guard dog,” Annie said.
“He’s an attention whore.” Drew patted the dog with one hand. “Let’s start the tour while the sun is still up.”
Cab bounded after them as they left the house and strolled up a hill. To their left and right, neat rows of vines trailed up the rolling land. Most of the vines were empty, but a few bunches of purple grapes hid behind the autumn foliage. Leaves crunched under their feet. The setting sun warmed Annie through the cotton of her blouse, and they climbed higher while the sun crept toward the horizon.
Drew touched a golden leaf here and picked a forgotten grape there. Annie watched her connect with the vines in silence. Even though this place was so different from Annie’s world, she didn’t feel out of place wandering the vineyards with Drew. Maybe it was because Drew was in her element here and radiated contentment. Drew’s relaxed mood was contagious.
At the top of the hill, Drew paused.
Annie stopped next to her and peered at the sea of golden vines below. Symmetric rows of vines stretched over rolling hills, reaching to the horizon, only interrupted by groups of scrub oaks. “I’ve lived in the area for six years now, but I never really paid attention to how beautiful it is,” Annie murmured and only then became aware that she had spoken aloud.
Drew looked around like a proud parent. Her gaze caressed the surrounding hills and vines. “You grew up in Fresno, right?”
Annie nodded.
“How did both you and Jake end up living in Paso Robles?”
“My parents own a house on Lake Nacimiento. As kids, we spent every summer at the lake. Jake became obsessed with water skiing and wake boarding, so he
moved here after college.”
“Then why did he end up opening a rock-climbing gym instead of renting out water skis to tourists?” Drew asked.
“You know Jake. He’s got a new brilliant business idea, a new passion, and a new girlfriend every month.” Sometimes, Annie couldn’t believe that he was related to her.
“Oh, yeah, I know. So what drew you to the area?” Drew grinned. “It wasn’t the water skiing, was it?”
Annie shook her head. She wasn’t into sports. “One of Jake’s ex-girlfriends worked for Cargill & Jones. When she told me they had a job opening for an accountant, I jumped at the chance.”
“But wouldn’t working for a bigger firm in Fresno offer more career opportunities?” Drew asked.
Annie hesitated. Drew didn’t seem to think anything of asking such personal questions so soon after meeting, but to her, it felt like revealing too much of herself. But Drew was right, of course. If they wanted to convince Jake they were in love with each other, they needed to become more familiar with each other’s lives. She took a deep breath and said, “I’m not in it for the big bucks or to make partner.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Just to do a good job and earn enough money to lead a comfortable life. A small firm appealed more to me than a larger company in a big city.”
“I can understand that,” Drew said. “I focus on quality too instead of trying to make more money by producing larger quantities of wine.” She picked a few grapes. “But if you’re not in it to earn a lot of money or make a career for yourself, why do you work so much?”
Lately, Annie had asked herself the same thing. She ran a hand through her wind-blown hair. “My colleague Sarah thinks it’s because I have a problem saying no.” She surprised herself by answering honestly. “If a client needs an urgent appointment or my boss has some extra work he needs done, I have a hard time turning them away.”
Drew nodded slowly. “When I took over the vineyard, I struggled with the same problem.”
“Really?” Annie raised both brows. As relaxed as Drew always seemed, Annie had assumed that she balanced her work and private life effortlessly, but maybe they had more in common than she had thought.
“I was working almost twenty-four/seven,” Drew said. “A customer wanted to bring twenty more guests to a wine tasting and a neighbor asked for help with the harvest, and I kept saying yes because I wanted to prove myself as helpful and dependable. But I learned very quickly that if I don’t take care of myself and my needs, no one else will.”
“Hmm.” Annie tugged on her earlobe. She knew Drew was right, but being the reliable one had always been her role in life.
“Here.” Drew handed her one of the grapes she had picked. “This is one of our Zins.”
Cab leaned against Annie’s side and nudged with his nose to get at the treat in her hand, nearly making her stumble down the hill. She grabbed for Drew’s arm to keep her balance.
“Cab!” Drew steadied Annie, then withdrew her hands and glared at the dog. “Stop it.” She turned to Annie. “Don’t give him any grapes, no matter how he looks at you with those soulful brown eyes of his. Grapes are poisonous to dogs.”
Wide-eyed, Annie nodded and wiped the bluish grape on her pants before she put it into her mouth. The sweet taste of the ripe fruit exploded on her tongue. She moaned. “This is good.” She lifted her hand to lick a drop of grape juice off her finger. When she looked up, she found Drew’s gaze on her.
Drew cleared her throat. “Just wait until you taste our Zin.” She set them off down the hill.
“Did you always want to be a vintner?” Annie asked. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Drew in any other profession.
“As a child, yes, but not as I got older. I grew up here, and my father always said I have grape juice running through my veins. But there was a time when I was trying to find my own way, independent of the generations of Corbins before me. I went off to college and got my MBA, not sure what I would do with it once I finally had it—anything but take over the family business. I didn’t want to follow the well-trodden paths.”
If anyone could understand that, it was Annie. After it had become clear that Jake’s interests didn’t lie in music or art but sports and having fun, her parents had set all their hopes on Annie. They had sent her to piano lessons and encouraged her to try her hand at drawing, but Annie had no interest or talent in either. As soon as she was old enough to make her own choices, she escaped into the well-ordered, logical world of numbers.
“I almost went into business with Jake when he opened his rock-climbing gym,” Drew said.
“Really?” Annie stared at her. “I didn’t know you were that close.”
“Well, we’re not best friends, but he’s a fun guy to hang out with. And a rock-climbing gym is as far from a vineyard as you can get without entering a convent.” Drew stopped and turned and whistled at Cab, who was digging in the earth.
Annie let her gaze trail over the vines and then to Drew’s tan face. “Yet here you are.”
“Here I am,” Drew said with a smile. “I tried to fit in with Jake and his partying friends, but I never did. So I came home and stopped running from who I am.”
Drew’s contentment warmed Annie as much as the rays of the setting sun. She’s bonded to this land. It must be incredible to be so sure about who you are and where you belong.
“Hey, why the sad face?” Drew stopped at the bottom of the hill and tilted her head to look at Annie.
Annie forced a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad you’re happy with your life.”
“And you aren’t?”
“Of course I am,” Annie said. “As I told you before, I love my job.”
“But life is more than just work, isn’t it?”
The wind rustled through the leaves behind them.
Annie wrapped her arms around herself.
“I’m sorry,” Drew said. “That was too personal.” She gently touched Annie’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s go to the tasting room.”
Annie gave her a reluctant smile. “You think the wine will loosen my tongue?” She tried not to tense up at the thought.
Laughing, Drew directed her toward a small building next to the house. “We’ll see.”
* * *
Annie looked around the tasting room, taking in the wood floor, the large windows overlooking the lake, and the fireplace opposite the long bar. Small tables that looked like wine barrels were placed at discreet distances from each other, but all of them were empty.
Almost six o’clock on a Saturday evening. Shouldn’t the tasting room be brimming with people? She looked at Drew, who had taken up a position behind the bar. “Are you closed on Saturdays?”
Drew glanced up from the bottle of wine she had just uncorked with efficient movements. “Just today. I promised you a private wine tasting, so having other customers around wouldn’t do, right?” She grinned, her white teeth flashing against her tan face.
Annie gaped at her. She closed the tasting room just for me? When she had told Jake that she would be going to a private wine tasting, she hadn’t expected it to be this private.
“Here.” Drew poured an ounce of white wine into a glass and slid it across the bar.
“What about you?” Annie asked.
“I never drink when I pour. We’ll take a bottle and sit on the patio after you decide which one you like best.”
“I can’t have too much,” Annie said. “I still need to drive home.” Besides, she was a lightweight when it came to alcohol and didn’t want to get drunk in front of Drew.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to get you home safely. Come on, try this one.”
When Drew kept looking at her expectantly, Annie stepped up to the bar and lifted her glass. “I have no clue how to do this properly.” Heat crept up her neck at the admission. She had wanted to do some research on the Internet so she wouldn’t embarrass herself, but then her mother had asked her to drive to Fresno and help her clean the
attic, so Annie had run out of time. “I like wine, but I’m not a connoisseur or anything.”
“First, you tilt the glass and look at the wine’s color,” Drew said.
Annie tilted her glass toward herself.
“The other way.” Drew reached across the bar and turned the glass away from Annie. Their fingers brushed against each other; then Drew pulled back. “Do you see the greenish-yellow color? That means it’s a younger wine. White wines tend to get darker with age. Okay, now swirl it around. The swirling releases the aromas of the wine.”
Gently, Annie moved the glass in tiny circles. She had always wondered when she had seen people do that but never wanted to embarrass herself by asking. Again, she realized that Drew often went out of her way to make her comfortable and not make her feel stupid.
“Go ahead and smell it,” Drew said.
Annie bent, held the glass up to her nose, and inhaled. She lifted her brows and looked at Drew. “It smells like freshly mowed grass.” That couldn’t be, could it?
Drew leaned on the bar and grinned like a proud teacher whose student had gotten the answer right. “Yes, it does. Now take a sip and let it roll around your mouth.”
The wine left a sharp taste in Annie’s mouth as she swallowed.
“What do you taste?” Drew asked.
“Uh ... wine?”
Drew laughed. “Close your eyes.”
Annie hesitated.
“Come on.” Drew flashed the charming smile that probably got her whatever she wanted most of the time. “Try it. Close your eyes and take another sip.”
Slowly, Annie lifted the glass to her lips again and closed her eyes. She focused on the layers of flavor as the wine wet her tongue.
“What do you taste?” Drew asked again.
When Annie opened her eyes, she met Drew’s gaze. “It tastes a bit like lime.”
“Very good.” Drew beamed at her as if she had predicted the winning lottery numbers. “Are you ready for the next wine?”
* * *
Half an hour later, they had progressed through three more white wines and four different red wines.
Drew smiled as she watched Annie. With every sample Drew poured, Annie’s cheeks reddened more and her eyes became more glazed. She had repeatedly told Annie that it was perfectly fine if she wanted to spit out the wine after tasting it, but Annie apparently thought it impolite to spit out wine with the vintner watching.