Chapter Nine #2
"Yeah." He glanced at Caleb. "I probably shouldn't admit this, but House of St. James are my favorite wines…" He pursed his lips. "We've built our business to be one of the biggest."
"And the best," Caleb chimed in.
Aaron nodded. "But this place…" He looked around again. "In my mind, House of St. James wines scream quality over quantity. As long as we can hammer out the details, I think there's a perfect fit with our new exclusive line."
"But we're not going to skip any of the details," Caleb added.
"I don't expect you to," Reaves said hurriedly.
Caleb had already proven himself to be a stickler for details, while Aaron was more the visionary of their operation.
"And the branding's an issue," Caleb added. "We're only going to be pushing a handful of labels in this top-shelf tier, our new Provenance line, and currently…"
"I understand completely," Reaves told him. "And as Dad made clear, we are working on it. I'm sure you guys know Delaney Morgan."
Aaron chuckled. "Enough said. If Delaney's in charge, there shouldn't be any issues at all. Right, Caleb?"
Caleb gave him a rueful smile. "Probably not." He turned to Reaves. "But I won’t make any commitments until we're sure." He glanced back at the house. "I won’t offer false hope if we're not going to follow through on it. Your father doesn't deserve that."
"Thanks. But I think you'll see that between Delaney and Alara—she's a very talented designer we've brought in—the new branding will be exactly the kind of aesthetic you need."
"I hope so," said Aaron. "House of St. James is part of Napa’s history. If we can nail the branding…"
Caleb checked his watch. "I’ll follow up once we’re back in the office; we’ll be traveling for the next couple of weeks. Tell Delaney we’re all expecting her to work her magic."
"I will." Reaves knew Delaney was good, but he was hoping that Alara would work her magic.
He watched them jog back down the steps and climb into Caleb’s Volvo. Then he hurried back to his dad’s study.
"What do you think?" Charles asked. "Are we in with a chance?"
"Of course we are. I'd say it's a good chance. But if it doesn't work out, they're not the only distributor. We'll keep going until we find the right one."
Charles ran his fingers over his knuckles, and Reaves noticed how gnarled they were. A heavy weight settled in his stomach. His dad wasn't getting any younger. He'd already fallen behind the times with the winery. He couldn't be expected to catch back up all by himself—he needed help.
"We'll see how it all shakes out. Thank you for coming. I hope I haven't kept you away from anything?"
"No! I told you, I have a quiet week—there's nothing on the schedule yet. But, Dad, I need you to understand that you come first. If you need me, call me." He frowned. "You shouldn't even have to do that. I should be here helping you. I need to do more."
"No, you don't. I'll admit that I haven't done a great job lately."
"Don't say that."
"I always speak the truth, and we both know it's true.
Not the wines—I don't doubt their quality, or my ability when it comes to the wines—but the business side of things has never been my forte.
It didn't matter as much thirty years ago; the wines sold themselves.
Even ten years ago. But these days… the pace of change has sped up so much, and perhaps I'd grown a little complacent. "
Reaves shook his head. "You've been carrying the whole place—everything—by yourself, and you shouldn't have to. I want to do more, Dad. I want to help."
"I know you do. But it's not your passion. It never has been." He paused. "I was thinking that if we get this deal set up, I could see about hiring someone. Someone to manage the business side. What do you think?"
Reaves slumped down into the chair opposite him.
"Honestly? I think that's a horrible idea.
You don't do well with strangers sticking their nose into your business—and whoever you hired would be a stranger.
The whole nature of the thing is that they'd have to learn your entire business inside out.
You do need more help; I can see that. But I'll do more.
I don't know enough yet, but I can learn. "
His dad gave him an indulgent smile, as if he were still a little kid promising he'd do better at school.
"We'll see," was all he said.
They both turned when Faye appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray. She set it down on his dad's desk. "I thought you'd be ready for a nice cold drink after your meeting," she said with a smile.
"Thank you, Faye. I am."
"How did it go?" she asked, making Reaves smile.
"I think it went all right." Reaves nodded when his dad looked to him for reassurance. "Yeah. When I walked them out, I got the impression that things might work out."
"Well, that's good then." Faye smiled at his dad. "I told you it was just a little blip. Never did like that other guy. He wasn't good enough for your wines."
His dad chuckled. "Thanks, Faye. I know you have every faith in this place."
"Not just in this place, Charles. In you." She straightened. "Now, I'm heading back to my kitchen. Will you be joining us tonight, Reaves?"
He wanted to. Of course he did. But he suspected his dad would want to hole up in his study this evening to think things through.
"Do you want me, Dad?"
"Of course I do. I always do. But to answer the real question—I'm not sure I'll be very good company this evening. Although I know two young ladies who'd be happy if you were to stay."
"Alara's sleeping at the moment," said Faye. "I poked my head into the office and she was fast asleep at her desk. I checked on Zia first, because she was playing in her room—I thought I could entertain her for a while, but she wasn't there."
Reaves took a step toward the door. "I'd better—"
Faye chuckled. "There's no need. She's taking a nap herself, on the sofa in the office. I expect she went down to see her mom."
"In that case, I'll head home," he said. Of course he'd like to stick around and see them when they woke up, but he'd call Alara later.
After Faye had gone, he got to his feet and went to rest his hand on his dad's shoulder. "I'll stick around if you want me."
"We already covered that, son. Get on home, and I'll see you soon."
"You will. You'll see me tomorrow."
"Thanks."
Once he was on the road, he called Jacob. He didn't expect him to pick up—he only wanted to leave a message to thank him.
"Hey, Reaves, how's it going?" Jacob answered on the second ring.
"Yeah, great. All the better, thanks to you."
"How did it go? I thought it might be a bit much, springing a last-minute meeting on your dad like that. But I saw the opportunity while Caleb and Aaron were here, so I had to jump on it."
"I'm glad you did. Thanks, Jacob. And I know Dad's grateful too."
"It feels strange to have his gratitude. Strange, and wrong. Your dad's like an institution in his own right in this town. He shouldn't be in the position he's in."
That heavy weight in Reaves's stomach settled a little deeper. Jacob was right, of course. "I know he shouldn't. And I'm gonna do what I can to help him. I should have been doing so much more."
"Hey, that's not what I meant," said Jacob.
"No, I know. But it's true, and we both know it."
"No, don't give me that. You never wanted to go into the business."
"Exactly. I went off and did my own thing and left Dad to struggle by himself. That has to change now."
He didn't say the rest, but surely Jacob had to understand. Jacob had stepped up at twenty-nine to take over the Jacobs estate after his parents died. He hadn't abandoned their legacy the way Reaves had.
"Stop giving yourself a hard time, bud," said Jacob. "If you want to do more now, I'm sure your dad will love it. But only do it if you want to. If you don't, there are other ways. I'll help you guys find a general manager, if that's what your dad wants."
"He suggested it, but I know he'd hate it."
Jacob chuckled. "Yeah, you have a point there. He doesn't need someone to take over. But… he's a winemaker, not a businessman."
"I know. That's the part I'm gonna have to learn."
"Well, if that's the route you decide to take, you have the kind of contacts most people in the business would kill for." Jacob chuckled. "Not to toot my own horn or anything. And of course, there's Bentley."
"Thanks, Jacob. I appreciate it. I have a feeling I'm gonna need to start picking your brain soon."
"Sure. The offer's there anytime." A pause. "Are you saying you'd give up the flying?"
Reaves swallowed. "If it comes down to it, then yeah."
"You really are serious, then."
"I am."