4. ENZO
4
ENZO
We follow a worried-looking Micah, and he leads us to a quiet corner outside the ballroom.
“What’s the matter?” I raise an eyebrow when we are out of earshot of any nosy passersby,
Micah has been working as a manager for my company for nearly five years now. I don’t know him to be someone who panics easily. And yet, here he is, looking as though he’s just seen a ghost.
“I’m sorry I had to interrupt you in the middle of the event, but it was urgent.”
“What happened?”
“Quality Control just told me that a batch of our wine that was shipped last week received some complaints.”
Though it was best to minimize them, complaints were a part of any consumer-business relationship. I didn’t see why Micah had gotten so worked up about it. “Was it a bad batch?”
Micah shakes his head. “It’s not just bad wine, Enzo. We suspect that something was added to the batch during preparation.”
“What do you think happened?” Valentino frowns. “If it’s a case of staff negligence, we’re going to have to lay off whoever is responsible.”
“I don’t think so.” Micah hesitates for a moment, his voice low and intense. “I suspect it might be sabotage.”
Valentino and I exchange a worried glance. For a company as established as mine, it’s rare to have incidents like this occur. I make sure to have strict quality controls at every step of the wine-making process.
Valentino’s eyes harden. “Who do you think could be behind this?”
“For now, it’s all speculation. We’re sending a sample sent in for testing. It’ll take a few days for us to get the results back. But I need some help right now working through sales records. We need to identify who else got the bad batch so we can reimburse them before word gets out.”
I glance over at Valentino. “That’s your department.”
Valentino hesitates. “We’re in the middle of the event. I can’t leave halfway. Besides—”
“It’s going to spiral into a PR disaster if we don’t act now.” Micah’s frustration grows more prominent each second.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “You should go. I’ll handle the event. Micah is right, this is far more important.”
Valentino frowns. “I just promised that influencer a private tour of the vineyard. She’ll be waiting for me.”
“Quinn?” My heart does a weird dance. What the heck?
“Dad, you’re going to have to take her on the tour instead of me. I don’t want her giving us a bad review…”
My jaw tightens. I hadn’t planned on spending the night playing host to this woman who has my body wanting things it has no business seeking. But the company always comes first.
“Fine. I’ll take care of it. Just make sure that you solve whatever the hell this new problem is.”
As I make my way inside the ballroom, I spot Quinn standing exactly where we left her.
“Change of plans.” I walk up to her, and her eyes widen slightly. “I’m going to be the one taking you on that tour.”
I don’t wait for her to respond, but she follows me out of the room. Her heels clack against the marble floor as she tries to keep up.
“I thought Valentino was supposed to give me the tour.” She finally catches up to me.
Her breath is coming out in short spurts, and it stirs a strange desire inside me.
I push the thought away.
“Consider it an upgrade. You get to have a chance to be shown around by the CEO himself.”
“I see. I hope everything’s okay with Valentino—you guys looked pretty serious.”
“My apologies about that.” I frown. “Just a minor mishap. These things are normal for a business of our scale.”
I half-expect her to probe me about what happened. Surely, she has some questions, considering how she was right there when Micah came to get us. But to my surprise, she simply shrugs it off.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
It’s not something I’m used to. Usually, girls are interested in all the drama and I have no interest in gossip.
She’s managed to impress me once again.
“It’s a bit dark out to go into the vineyard itself.”
Her face falls. “Oh, I was hoping to see it for myself.” But she quickly recovers. “No worries, though. Maybe another time.”
“I never said that it meant our tour won’t still happen. We can do a tour of the cellars, and then I’ll take you to the museum.”
“The museum?” Her eyes sparkle. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see. We do things a bit differently around here.”
The cool, musty air hits us as we enter the cellar. Not quite the luxury experience, but Quinn looks happier than I’ve seen her all day.
She breathes in the earthy scent of the fermenting grapes and moans. “You could bottle up this scent in a perfume, and I’d buy it by the dozen.”
That gets a chuckle out of me. “I’m not sure if there’s a market for that.”
“Of course there is.” She slides her fingers along the aging barrels and glistening bottles. “People like me would love it.”
“People like you?” I watch her walk ahead of me.
Her passion for the craft is hard to ignore. As is the way her hips swing with each step she takes.
I drink in the sight of her, wondering if she knows how sexy she is without even trying.
“This is where the magic happens.” I catch up to her, stuffing my hands in my pockets. A proud smile etches across my lips as I take in the sight.
These walls hold decades of craftsmanship and are proof of the business I’ve worked so hard to establish.
“I feel like a kid on Christmas,” she admits with a laugh. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Well, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
I talk to her as I show her all the places where the magic happens. “After crushing the grapes, we allow them to ferment.”
“And do you monitor the temperature throughout, or let it fluctuate naturally?”
I pause mid-step, a slight smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
She knows what she is talking about.
“We monitor it closely to control the flavor profile,” I reply, impressed by her insight.
As we reach the end, I pause at a doorway. “Just one second—I’ll be right back.”
I slip inside the small room without offering much of an explanation.
When I return, she’s looking at me. But the moment she spots the bottle in my hands, her face lights up again.
“You’ve been such a good listener that I thought you deserved a reward.” I grin before popping open a bottle. “This is one of our finest aged wines, straight from the cellar.”
“Oh my.” Her mouth is slightly agape.
I pour us each a glass, and with a gentle clink, we toast to the moment. “Here’s to Quinn.”
“To me ?” Quinn glances up at me through thick lashes, surprise in her eyes.
This woman is a goddamn stunner.
“Yes. I usually hate giving these tours, as that is more of Valentino’s department. But it wasn’t so bad this time.”
She laughs, taking a sip out of her glass.
A strange thrill passes through me at the sound.
“Well, thank you. I think?”
“How’s the wine?”
“Oh, it’s delicious.”
I can tell that she’s being genuine.
“If this was meant to be a bribe for a good review, then you might have just been successful.”
A good review?
I had almost forgotten that I am here strictly for business.
“What happened to your moral high ground?” I tease, recalling our conversation from earlier. “Weren’t you the one who said that your approval cannot be bought?”
“Through flattery, yes.” She takes another sip, savoring it before gulping it down. “But with wine that tastes as good as this, I might be able to make an exception.”
“So, I’ve cracked the secret after all.” I smile.
When she looks up at me, I hold her gaze for a moment and suddenly the air feels tense.
Neither of us says anything for a moment, and her throat bobs up and down.
I feel a strange longing toward her, and the desire to close the distance between us grows with each second until it becomes suffocating.
“Maybe,” she breathes. “Did you say that there was a museum?”
“Oh, right, yes. I’ll take you there now. I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy it.”
We’re both sounding off, and the nervousness makes me wonder if she’d been thinking the same thing.
I lead her over to the museum, which showcases a collection of artifacts and memories that encapsulate the essence of Valentina Vineyard.
She pauses, looking up at the large portrait hanging in the middle of the room.
“Who is that?”
My chest tightens, and I hesitate briefly before finally answering, “That is Valentina, my late wife, who the vineyard is named after.”
“Oh.” Her tone softens immediately, “I am so sorry to hear that.”
A surge of emotion flutters within me, but I swiftly mask it, my resolve firming like iron.
“Thank you. She’s the reason why I fell in love with the craft all those years ago.” My mouth curls into a wistful smile. “Even in her absence, she continues to motivate me and my son to carry on what she started.”
“You’re doing her legacy proud. I can see how passionate you are about your work.”
Speaking about Valentina is not easy for me, and I’m eager to move on from the topic. “Well, I can say the same for you. What made you get interested in the craft?”
“Oh, it’s a long story,” She laughs.
“I’ve got time.”
She bites on her lip, her gaze meeting mine. “Well, right after college, I landed myself a corporate job, working in sales. It paid well, but I dreaded waking up to go to work every morning.”
I nod at her to continue, intrigued.
“My co-workers and I started this thing where we would sample a new wine each Friday. It was the only thing I looked forward to each week.” Her eyes sparkled at the memory. “I’d discovered a new passion—staying up for hours just reading about all the different kinds of wines there are. Until one day, I decided I’d had enough. So… I quit and followed my passions.”
“That’s quite the leap of faith,” I comment.
In her excitement, she moves close enough that I can smell her powdery perfume. She smells delicious, but I find myself wondering instead what she’d taste like.
“I guess life’s too short to not at least try and make your dreams come true. Right?”
Her hand accidentally brushes up my arm as she speaks.
My eyes flick down, drifting to her plump lips.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out and cup her face.
“Enzo…. I—”
My lips crash into hers. And somehow, she is kissing me back just as passionately.
Her hands go to my hair, and I grab her waist, pulling her body flush against mine.
She groans in my mouth, tugging me closer.
The heat of her body radiates through the thin material of her dress.
Our mouths never leave each other’s as my hands begin to dip lower, grabbing a handful of her ass that has been teasing me all evening.
“Fuck, Quinn,” I whisper against her mouth, pulling away for a second.
She presses against the front of my jeans.
A low moan escapes my throat, as she begins to grind against me.
I want to take her right here, right now.
“Enzo,” she groans out as I my hands learn her curves, teasing her as she’s doing to me.
My mind is swimming.
But the moment I open my eyes, I freeze immediately, dropping my hands to my sides.
“What happened?” she asks, confused.
No wonder. Just a moment ago I was trying to fuck her in the middle of the room.
A moment ago, when I hadn’t noticed that my wife’s portrait stared down at us.
A wave of guilt washed over me.
“I’m sorry. This should never have happened,” I mutter, refusing to meet her gaze.
“Oh, um.”
I can hear the confusion and sadness in her voice. I don’t blame her.
“Listen, I need to go now. I’ll send someone from the staff to accompany you during the rest of the tour.”
I make my way out of there as fast as I can. Once I’m sure that I’m at a safe distance, I slow my pace down and throw my hands to my head.
How could I have lost control like that? In front of Valentina’s photo, of all places?
The strain in my jeans is proof enough that the attraction between us is immense.
She’d offered no resistance at all.
Yet, this can’t happen again.
I sigh, looking back one last time.
How I am going to spend the rest of the event in her company, I do not know.
Mixing business with pleasure is dangerous, and I know that resisting her is going to be infinitely harder now that I know just how sweet she tastes.