Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
MARISSA
Marissa followed William to the winery.
Of course he drives a Range Rover.
She couldn’t get a read on William Graff.
He might claim not to embrace a life of privilege, but from his car, expensive clothes, and friend group, there was no escaping his financial status.
He had impressed her with how he treated everyone they’d interacted with.
And Olivia liked him, which meant he couldn’t be all bad, but every time she changed her mind about William, she realized they were worlds apart.
Smith Rock Winery was located about twenty minutes from downtown Bend, named after the famous rocky prominence visible from the winery’s expansive outdoor deck.
Marissa navigated the two-lane highway. Granite clouds hovered on the skyline, threatening more snow, shrouding the view of Smith Rock and the seven peaks of the Cascades in the distance.
The flat plains of the high desert were buried in two feet of fluffy white tufts.
She had to pay careful attention to keep her car in the two icy ruts carved through the packed snow.
The irony that William’s friend—or was Parker something more?
—owned Smith Rock Wines wasn’t lost on her.
The vineyard’s wines were out of Marissa’s price range.
She’d visited once for a bridal shower and experienced sticker shock over the tasting fee, which cost more than she’d ever spent on a bottle.
Needless to say, she hadn’t frequented Smith Rock Wines.
A Charles Shaw red from Trader Joe’s was more her speed.
When she pulled into the parking area in front of the red barn that housed the tasting room, William was waiting for her with one arm propped up against his Range Rover.
He looked ridiculously handsome with his gray-and-maroon-striped scarf, down jacket, and black leather gloves.
He could have been posing for a holiday ad for the vineyard.
The grounds were absolutely stunning, especially in the snow.
The restored barn had a sloped roof adorned with a giant wreath.
Vintage golden yellow bulbs were strung across the entrance, creating a patchwork of twinkling lights that reflected off the barn and onto the snow.
But it was William who took her breath away.
She let out a small breath and willed her heart to stop flopping in a fluttery rhythm as she stepped out of the car.
“Are they open yet?” Marissa asked, scrunching her face to try to see the signage on the door as she caught up with William.
A vintage wagon with Christmas trees, wine barrels, and sprigs of holly was parked next to the barn.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? We won’t get in trouble for asking for help, will we? ”
“I texted Parker. She’s here.” William waited for her to go first and then rapped on the barn door. “And no. Why would we get in trouble? Plus, who would ever know?”
Marissa didn’t like involving Parker, but they were here now, so she had no choice.
Parker answered right away. “Wills, kiss, kiss.” She leaned in and planted a kiss on each of his cheeks. Then she caught Marissa’s eye. “Oh, hello, nice to see you again. Mary? Marcy? Do come in. It’s freezing out there.”
“It’s Marissa,” William said with a touch of irritation.
“Yes, such a darling name.” Parker flashed a toothy smile at Marissa, her eyes quickly assessing Marissa’s outfit without attempting to disguise her disdain.
Marissa hoped this wasn’t going to take too long. Come to think of it, if William had texted Parker, why couldn’t he have just asked her about the clue instead of making them drive all the way out here?
Probably it’s an excuse to get to see her.
Parker shut the door behind them and showed them into the tasting room.
An entire wall of rustic wine barrels was draped with tiny golden lights.
The open-concept space was cold and not because of the temperature.
There was a sleek aesthetic from the smooth cement floors to the intentionally weathered bar that almost gave off a vibe like Smith Rock Wines was trying to match its rugged ancient volcanic environment, but it lacked a soul.
Not even the red paper star lights hanging above the bar or the miniature potted evergreen trees in the tasting room did anything to warm up the space.
Parker moved behind the bar. “What can I pour for you?”
William declined. “Nothing for me.”
“How about you?” Parker scanned rows of wine racks.
“Have you ever tasted our reserve pinot? It’s an old-world wine made with estate grapes.
We are the only vineyard in the region with clones of Vitis vinifera.
” She slipped into a heavy French accent.
“Oh, sorry. I spend so much time in Paris going to the wine shows, and then, of course, we must stay in Bordeaux and the Loire Valley, that it’s such a struggle to be back in America when you’ve been speaking French and drinking French wine for weeks. Wills, you understand.”
Could she be more awful?
“When were you in France?” William asked.
Parker poured three glasses of their reserve. Marissa didn’t even want to think about how much a glass of the premier wine must cost.
“September.” She handed Marissa a glass. “Have you spent much time in France?”
“I’ve never left the country,” Marissa replied truthfully. She wasn’t going to let Parker intimidate her.
“Well, let me tell you, in the world of wine, we are in a highly unique growing region in Oregon. Our colleagues in France are envious of our dry, arid soil. It’s absolute perfection for growing old-world French grapes, better known as Vitis vinifera.”
Marissa wanted to gag. Parker’s exaggerated French accent and her affected tone were an attempt to elevate her status even more. It was hardly necessary. The woman owned a vineyard and apparently spent extensive time in France, so much so that English was challenging when she returned home.
Marissa stifled a giggle.
Parker gave her a sharp look. “Do you find something funny about our pinot?”
“No, not at all.” She took a sip of the wine and responded truthfully. “This is delicious.”
“You should taste notes of oak. We double age all our wines in wooden barrels.” She swept a manicured hand to the wall of barrels. “This glass is about as close as you can come to tasting ancient French wines.”
“It’s good.” Marissa took another sip. She wasn’t sure what else to say. William had brought them here, supposedly, to see if Parker could provide input on the next clue. She hadn’t expected they were going to be doing a private tasting.
“Try it, Wills. You haven’t been out here at all this season. I would love your tasting notes. This is one of—if not our best—pinot in years. We had a couple of rough seasons with wildfire smoke, but last year was a dream for the grapes. A cold winter, wet spring, and dry, hot summer.”
William took a small sip and swished the wine in his mouth.
“Nice.” He caught Marissa’s eye and must have sensed her irritation because he set his glass on the distressed wood bar and got to the point.
“We were hoping you might be able to give some insight into our next clue in the scavenger hunt.” He took his phone from his jacket and showed Parker the photo of the mural.
Marissa couldn’t be sure, but she thought that Parker’s face held the briefest flash of disappointment.
“What do you think I can tell you?” Parker asked after giving the photo a cursory glance.
“It seems like the next clue involves something with the Starlight Parade, and since you’re a sponsor, I wondered if there might be a connection with the vineyard.”
Parker laughed. “You think there’s a clue buried at the bottom of my wine bottles?”
“No, but that’s not a bad idea for business.” William raised his eyebrows. “Are you doing a float in the parade again?”
“We are.” Parker nodded but didn’t elaborate.
“And do you need help with the float?”
Parker chose her words carefully. “I do not need help here with the float.”
“But you might need help somewhere else?” William offered.
Parker studied him with a knowing smile as she sipped her wine and batted her long, fake lashes at him. “Perhaps, but only for you, Wills.”
William looked at Marissa.
Marissa wanted to escape. Watching Parker fawn over William made her want to throw up.
“But you don’t have anything for us here?” Marissa asked through clenched teeth.
“I do not.” Parker shook her head. “Like I said last night, Wills, why are you playing this silly game?”
“I have my reasons.” William reached into his jacket. “What do we owe you for the wine?”
“Darling, it’s on the house.” She flicked her wrist and tipped her head coyly. “Always. You know that.”
“I’ll be back in a few,” William said to Marissa. “Have to hit the bathroom before we go.”
Marissa considered following him. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck with Parker alone.
“So you and Wills are hitting it off on your little quest?” Parker rinsed a wine glass in the sink.
“I wouldn’t say that. We’re teammates. We have a common goal.”
Parker turned off the water and walked up to the counter. She lowered her saccharine voice and plastered on a fake smile. “Can I offer you some advice, woman to woman?”
Marissa clenched her jaw so tight she thought she might crack a tooth.
Parker didn’t wait for her to answer. “Wills is out of your league. You get that, right? He tends to do this. He likes to adopt pet projects—people he can save to make his do-gooder heart feel better. It’s the same with his teaching. It won’t last.”
Marissa inhaled through her nose. It took every ounce of self-control not to reach across the counter and slap her. Marissa had never slapped anyone but there was a first time for everything.
A pet project?
That’s what she was to William?
“I’m not sure why you’re telling me this,” she replied evenly through a smile.
“Because I can see you have a crush on him. I understand. He’s tall, dark, handsome, and the richest bachelor in Bend, but I would hate for you to have your heart broken.
” She tried to pat Marissa’s hand, but Marissa yanked it away.
“We’re sort of intended for each other. Our families have known one another since we were young. You might say he and I are destined.”
“Great. Good for you. There’s no need to worry. William and I are teammates. Nothing more.” Marissa stood up. She didn’t have to take this kind of abuse.
William returned from the bathroom at that moment, his gaze drifting from Marissa to Parker. “Hey, did I miss anything?”
“Nope. Nothing at all. Just some girl talk.” Parker shot Marissa a conspiratorial smile. “I’ll be seeing you at the gala later, yes?”
“I don’t know.” William hesitated and glanced at Marissa again. “It depends on how long it takes us to figure out the next clue. We’re on a tight timeline.”
“I can’t imagine a scavenger hunt for kids and families could take that long. Be there,” Parker demanded. “It’s going to be the talk of the town, and William Graff must make an appearance. Everyone expects it.”
Tension had built in the tasting room. It was so palpable that Marissa could almost grasp it in her hand.
She wanted to disappear. Whatever was going on between William and Parker was none of her business.
Ever since she was young, she had been able to pick up on emotions, to read the room.
Her mom had claimed it was Marissa’s superpower.
It didn’t always feel that way to her, like now.
She wanted to slink to the floor to avoid being in the middle of the stiff conversation.
William returned his phone to his pocket. “Thanks for the input and the wine, Parker.”
“Don’t bail on the gala, Wills,” Parker warned as William headed for the exit.
“The wine was delish,” Marissa agreed, following William.
“Oh, that reminds me, I’d still like to discuss your catering services,” Parker said. “We love to support the small business community and give locals a leg up. This could be a very lucrative opportunity for you. You’d be catering to a very posh crowd. These are the best of the best in Bend.”
“Thanks,” Marissa replied through clenched teeth as they headed out into the cold. There was no chance she was taking a gig with Parker. She’d rather drag herself back to her old job and beg on her hands and knees.
“I’m sorry about her,” William said, walking with her to her car.
“Sorry about what, Wills?” Marissa mimicked Parker’s affected tone.
He flinched. “Please don’t call me that. I hate it.”
“You do?” Marissa was genuinely surprised.
“Look, Parker and I have—uh—well…” He trailed off. “Anyway, it’s complicated, but she’s not as snobby as she comes off sometimes.”
“Would it have been easier if we had spoken in her native francais?” Marissa butchered an attempt at a French accent.
William cracked up. “It is hard if you spent a week in France three months ago. The challenge is real.”
“I don’t get it.” Marissa felt a touch of relief that at least he wasn’t completely oblivious to how obnoxious Parker was. “Why do you hang out with her?”
He changed the subject as a form of a reply. “Do you think we should go out to the fairgrounds? The float staging and setup are there. Maybe that’s what Parker meant by not needing help here.”
“Sure.” Marissa unlocked her car. “I’ll follow you.”
“Sounds good.” William gave her a salute and got into his car.
Marissa was more confused than ever. The interaction between him and Parker had gone from flirty to icy, but there was more between.
She was sure of it, and she was equally sure that she wasn’t going to be his pet project.
The sooner they could finish Passport to the Holidays and go their separate ways, the better.