I was starting to get the feeling Grado Valley Vineyards was one of the top vineyards on Lake Seneca for a good reason. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Neither your father or his partner have ever shown interest in working with us. Sunset Vineyards is one of the only on the lake not in the Seneca Lake Wineries Association. We work side by side with virtually all of our neighboring vineyards and wineries except Sunset, and that isn’t at all because we aren’t willing. In fact, it’s always a win-win to cross-promote. Bringing in new business for each of us, especially being neighbors, could be beneficial to both.”
I didn’t know what to say. Was it really that bad around here?
It took me all of two seconds to answer my own question. Of course it was. My dad deferred all Sunset dealings to Jerry, and he was arrogant enough to think he could waltz in here and do it his way. This wasn’t the city, these vineyards owners not his typical cut-throat associates. But Jerry was a savvy businessman too. Of course it made sense to cross-promote businesses. People didn’t usually come to just one winery.
Now how to answer without throwing the dickhead under the bridge.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ll be honest too. For my father, this was purely a financial investment. It just so happened I started my sommelier certification around the same time as his business associate (calling Jerry a friend didn’t reflect well on my father) had the idea to purchase Sunset Vineyards.”
“I see,” she clearly didn’t. My explanation in no way excused Jerry’s behavior. And I wouldn’t dream of doing so. Best to ignore him altogether as much as possible. “Of course it makes sense to work together. I’m here provisionally as the new proprietor, but can assure you, while I’m here, things will be different.”
“Provisionally?”
There was no reason not to be honest with her if we were doing business together. “I’m an attorney by trade, so this is a second career for me. Before we make it official, and my father signs his share over to me, I want to be sure it’s for me.”
As it was a lot to take in, I gave Dominica a minute with that information. I could see her wheels spinning. “Well, I hope you stay on. I really do think we could both benefit, and it's a great region to live and work in. I’m happy to take you around a bit if you don’t know the area. Introduce you to the town and such.”
No way in hell I’d turn down that offer. “I’d appreciate that. The staff here has been great but...”
Dominica smiled. “You don’t have to explain. I’ve met them.”
Not one person who worked at Sunset was under fifty. I adored them all so far but wouldn’t complain to have someone my age to introduce me around town. The quicker I got to know Dominica Grado, the quicker I could repair what was obviously a bad relationship between our two businesses.
“You feel okay with that, conflict of interests aside?”
She waved a hand at me. “There’s no conflict of interest. Technically speaking, we are competitors. But honestly, the fact that Sunset and Grado are neighbors makes us even less so than some of the others. On the east side of the lake, we work together very closely. Like I said, bringing in new business helps everyone. Take ‘Pasta and Wine Weekend’ last month. Eighteen of us participated, and every one saw new customers because of someone’s promotion. Sending people next door is even easier than working with someone on the southwest side of the lake.”
For the first time since I came, genuine excitement bubbled in me. For every moment of ‘this could actually work’ a countering doubt crept into my brain. I loved wine, but didn’t grow up on a vineyard. I was smart, but not a business owner. Not to mention I had less than zero experience running a vineyard and winery. Which, my father would tell me, didn’t negate the possibility of doing it well. I would fill my knowledge gaps with those who knew more than me, like Brien. He was the true goldmine of Sunset Vineyards.
This meeting could not have been more fortuitous.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Her smile wasn’t fake. Dominica, clearly as excited as I was about the prospect of a new working relationship between our businesses, beamed from ear to ear.
“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”
“I think I can guess,” I said, thinking of Jerry. But now wasn’t the time or place to talk about him. “I’m not sure how long you have, but I’d love to know more about Grado Valley Vineyards.”
Dominica stood. “It’s much easier to show you. Want a tour?”
Knowing how much knowledge she had to offer, and that this could potentially be the start of a lucrative partnership, maybe even friendship, I didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”
“I have my car outside. There’s no easy way to walk here.”
That seemed silly. Our tasting room was at the very edge of the property butting just up to the edge of Grado Valley. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot,” I said, wanting to talk to Brien quickly first.
By the time I opened the passenger door of Dominica’s car a bit later, it was too late to realize that by agreeing to head over to her property, there was a potential of running into Marco. Hopefully I’d do better with my other monthly goal.
“Our great grandfather came to Geneva, New York from Italy in 1931,” she said as we began to drive. “He bought over two hundred acres and named it Grado Valley. Mostly used for farming. Unfortunately, in the early fifties the recession forced him to sell all but sixty-five acres, which we still retain today.”
“When did it become a vineyard?” I asked as we pulled onto Grado’s long driveway that led to the estate.
“In 1983, my parents took a trip to Napa Valley. Despite being raised in the Finger Lakes, it wasn’t until then that the idea of turning the land into a vineyard took shape. They came back, hatched a plan, and cleared the land, planting chardonnay, riesling, pinot noir and gewürztraminer vines. My grandparents passed within a year of each other just a few years ago, so they were able to see what the land had become, which is the best part. It all started with an old barn and folding table for tasting and sales.”
“So they sold wine from the beginning?”