Chapter Ten
Ollie threw the ball and watched the dogs take off after it, running at full speed down the avenue between the vines.
He'd brought them out early this morning because he'd been awake for hours.
Reaves was coming over later, and they'd said they'd take the dogs out then — but it wasn't as though the dogs would mind two good runs in one day.
In fact, if the day shaped up to be as warm as promised, they could take them down for a swim again.
The dogs came racing back to him. Peanut had the ball in her mouth and Butter ran alongside her. In Ollie's mind, Butter was Peanut's bodyguard, but he doubted anyone else would see it that way.
He held his hand out, and she gave him the ball. He threw it again and watched them take off after it. He already knew that this time Butter would be the one to bring it back.
Dobermans were renowned for being intelligent dogs, but he felt that his two were a cut above even the rest of them.
When it came to fetching the ball or any kind of game, they took it in turns.
When it came to anything that required strength, Butter took over.
And when stealth was needed, Peanut took the lead.
He checked his watch. He should think about getting them back up to the house. Reaves would be here soon.
He took his phone out and checked it again. Still nothing from Callie.
He shouldn't feel so disappointed; he hadn't texted her until later last night. Maybe she was already asleep by that time. He wished that he'd just gone ahead and called, though, without texting first. Even if he only got her voicemail, it would have been nice to hear her voice.
The dogs came bounding back to him, and Butter pushed the ball into his hand.
"Thanks, big guy. What do you say — want to head home?"
Peanut met his gaze for a moment before slipping away between the vines into the next row over.
"Hey, lady," he called after her sternly. "You get back here. We're not playing that game again."
The two of them knew that when they came out to walk the vines, they stuck to the row they were on. That's why it had been such a surprise when he brought Callie out here that they'd snuck off the way they had.
He had to chuckle when Peanut stuck her head back between the vines and whined at him.
"No, come on," he told her.
Butter gave a gruff-sounding woof.
Peanut came back to them and hung her head.
"It's okay." He gave her ears a rub. "We'll get to play again later. Reaves is coming."
At the mention of his name, two sets of ears pricked up, and they set off for the house ahead of him.
They were always eager to see Reaves, and of course Ollie was too. But there was more to it this morning. He was concerned about Charles's situation.
He found it hard to believe that the distributor had dropped the House of St. James wines. He wished that Jacob was here. He would have called him by now if he were. But then again, Reaves would have called him himself, no doubt.
As the CEO of Jacobs Estate, Jacob was one of the biggest names in Napa, and he was the one who ran Stratton Wines for Ollie.
Well, Luigi was in charge of operations here, but when it came to the business, Jacob took care of everything.
But considering that he was on his honeymoon, Ollie was just going to have to wait a week before he could talk to him.
He could talk to Bentley — as CEO of DuPont Wineries, Bentley was as well-respected as Jacob.
But Ollie felt a little awkward about that.
Not because Bentley was his employer, but because he kept thinking more and more lately that he should find a way to run at least part of Stratton Wines through Bentley's company.
He blew out a sigh as he approached the house. Apart from anything else, none of it was his decision to make. It would be up to Reaves if they even suggested looking for help, and most importantly, it was for Charles to decide what he wanted to do.
"Get back here, guys," he called to the dogs when he heard Reaves's truck coming up the driveway.
Peanut and Butter came bounding back to him and sat at attention by his side when he stood still to watch Reaves pass. They hurried over to greet him as he climbed out of his truck.
"Hey, doggies." Reaves greeted them, and they fawned over him for a few minutes before he nodded at Ollie. "Hey, how's it going?"
"Yeah, I'm good. How about you? And how's your dad?"
Reaves shook his head. "He's... okay. And I think that worries me more than anything. He's kind of accepting his fate."
"That's not like him," said Ollie.
"No. I know. That's what worries me." He met Ollie's gaze. "I feel like shit, Ollie. I should have been doing more to help him."
"What could you do, though?" Ollie asked.
"I don't know, but I should have been figuring it out and learning how, shouldn't I?"
"I guess so. Come on inside — do you want coffee?"
"Yeah, I'd love one, thanks."
Ollie led them into the house, but when they had their coffee, they came back outside to sit on the terrace by the pool. It was too nice a day to stay inside.
"So, what do you know about the whole deal?" Ollie asked. "What exactly happened?"
"All I know is that he had his regular meeting with the distributor.
And when he came back, he didn't say a word.
He went into his office, closed the door, and I didn't see him till the next morning.
" He shrugged. "I really don't know much more than you do.
He keeps muttering about that word — vibe — and what the distributor said. "
"What does that even mean when it comes to wine, though?" asked Ollie.
"Damned if I know," said Reaves. "I wanted to talk to Bentley. Or maybe Cameron. But I figured I should wait until we got together." He smiled. "We can figure it out between us, can't we?"
"You bet your ass we can. I was thinking the same thing. My first thought was Jacob, but of course—"
"Yeah," Reaves agreed. "I don't think he'd appreciate us calling him on his honeymoon."
"Not a lot."
"There's Bentley."
Ollie made a face. "I feel kind of bad about the whole Stratton Wines deal, though. And if I ask him about your dad's company when I've never run anything about this place past him... I'd hate for him to think..."
Reaves nodded. "I doubt he would, but I can see where you're coming from." He gave Ollie a wry smile. "I'll say it even though you don't want to. The House of St. James is small potatoes compared to this place, isn't it?"
"Yeah." Ollie felt bad agreeing, but it was true. "But only in terms of size," he said. "This place is so much bigger, but when it comes to quality over quantity, the House of St. James is everything."
"Right," said Reaves. "That's why I don't understand.
I mean, maybe this distributor's just not marketing it right, or not approaching the right kind of retailers, or.
.." He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know the first damn thing about wine.
And I feel so bad about that now. I've been thinking for a while that I should do more to help Dad out, but. .."
"Don't beat yourself up about it," said Ollie. "We both could have done more, but all that matters is that we do now. So, where do you want to start?"
Reaves shrugged. "Maybe we should call Bentley. If you're okay with it. The thing is, if you feel bad about not letting him deal with Stratton Wines, it's only going to be worse if we don't go to him about my dad's deal either."
"That's true. Okay, Bentley first, then."
Reaves nodded slowly. "Yeah, but is he even the right one to talk to about.
.." He shook his head. "I keep going back to that word, the same as my dad did.
Vibe. What does that even mean? I mean, that's more like marketing stuff, isn't it?
It's not like he's saying the wine isn't good.
We all know it's excellent. It's a matter of marketing. "
Ollie grinned when a thought struck him. "Is it really a question of marketing, or is it branding?"
Reaves made a face. "Hell if I know. What's the difference anyway?"
"I'm not sure I know either," said Ollie, "but we both know someone who does."
"We do?"
Ollie nodded. "We sure do. Do you remember Willow's friend Delaney? The one who seemed to have caught Elliott's eye."
"Oh, right, yeah. She's Hannah's friend, isn't she?"
"I think she's friends with all of them. And yeah, now that you mention it, I think she and Hannah used to work together when Hannah still lived in LA. The point is, she's a luxury branding specialist."
Reaves's face fell. "My dad's place isn't exactly..."
"But that's it, Reaves. The House of St. James should be a high-end luxury boutique.
.." He searched for more words in the same vein but couldn't find any.
"You know what I mean? Niche market. The cream of the crop and all that.
If it were branded that way, he could probably up his prices ten times over. "
Reaves's eyebrows shot up. "You really think so?"
"I'd like to." Ollie made a face. "It sounds good and it feels right.
I mean, think about it. Most of the wines around here are produced on a larger scale.
Marketed to the masses. That's not right for the House of St. James, is it?
It's boutique. It's legacy. It's all those other words I can't think of.
But you know damn well what I mean, don't you? "
Reaves nodded slowly. "Yeah, but how would we even—"
"We talk to Delaney, that's how," said Ollie.
Reaves made a face. "I'm not sure my dad would get along with her, you know."
Ollie got to his feet. "You might be right about that. And I wouldn't blame him. Not saying I don't like her, but Delaney's... a tough cookie. But if your dad's not keen on her, you can act as a buffer between them."
"I will. It's not about who she is. It's about her ideas and her expertise. And from what the rest of them were saying, she's the best at what she does. You think we should talk to her, then?"
"I do."
"Do you have her number?"