“Someone with your experience...why not do it all for yourself?”
“Own my own vineyard? Hell no. Not only is it too expensive to get started, but I like going home at the end of the day.”
“Like tonight?” I asked, knowing full well Brien had been here since the sun came up.
He smiled. “True. But it’s different, being the owner.” He quickly added. “I don’t mean to scare you or anything. Some people are cut out for it. I’m just not one of them.”
“No worries,” I assured him. “I’m not married and have no kids, so this is my life for the foreseeable future. That makes a big difference.”
He wanted to ask why. Everyone did. But this was the twenty-first century. A woman could be unmarried without kids at age thirty without some big back story, right? No broken engagements or anything dramatic. I just hadn’t found the one and refused to feel panicked about that.
“To answer your question,” he continued, nodding to the path in front of us. We began to walk away from the docks where some staff were still working, finishing up our popular Sunset Cruises. With a fleet of eight decent-sized boats, it was what set Sunset Vineyards apart from the competition. “Sales is the thing I like least. I’ve done it for years, for various vineyards, but it’s not really my thing.”
“Good to know.”
We chatted all the way up to the tasting room. Climbing the stairs to the deck, Brien and I made our way inside. With neither of the owners living on property, the second-floor apartment had been kept empty, which meant a short commute ‘home’ for me.
“Thanks again for the tour,” I said as he prepared to leave. “You’re doing such an amazing job here, Brien. We’re lucky to have you.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Watson.”
“Rae, please.”
“Alrighty then. Rae.”
I’d always liked this guy, but now I knew for certain how Jerry and my father had managed to make Sunset thrive despite neither of them living here or knowing diddly squat about running a vineyard. They were just two guys who loved wine and saw this place as an investment. But it was a hell of a lot more than that.
“I hope we can talk more this week with Jerry when he gets here,” I said.
There it was. The shadow that crossed his features that told me Brien cared for our boss just as much as me. We’d be getting along splendidly. Brien just didn’t know it yet.
“Sounds good. Evening then,” he said, walking out.
Heading behind the bar, I poured myself the driest wine that I could find. Unfortunately, Sunset wasn’t known for dry red. Then, heading back onto the deck, I plopped myself in an Adirondack chair and pulled out my phone, already missing Alanna, who’d headed back home earlier today.
Refusing to think about Marco, despite the stubborn memory of the way he sauntered across that bar to talk to me becoming a recurring and unwanted thought, I called my father and put him on speaker.
Alone at last.
“Hey sweetie.”
He tried so hard. If only he’d done that about fifteen years ago.
“Hey Dad. Do you have a second?”
“Of course. How’s it going there?”
Time to be blunt. “Well, let’s see. The operations manager is keeping this place afloat, but if he doesn’t quit in the near future, the man’s a fool. He’s doing the jobs of three people.”
Silence.
“And honestly, the last thing we should be doing right now is expanding. Also, I haven’t talked to one person who doesn’t look like they swallowed a frog when I bring up Jerry’s name.”
My dad sighed. None of this was a surprise to him, I was sure. “I’m leaving all of that up to you and Jerry. You know I only did this for you.”
By ‘did this’ he meant going into business with Jerry in the first place. I never asked him to buy a vineyard for me.
“Dad—”