Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Sebastian
I swirled the contents of the pinot noir I was about to taste in my glass. After a healthy inhale, I could tell I would be impressed with the flavors; however, like everything I’d encountered at this place, I wouldn’t get my hopes up until after I sampled it.
Luckily, my assumptions were correct, and the flavor of the light red was to my satisfaction—finally, something was going right around here. Like most wines from Saratoga Valley, it offered a unique expression of the elegant grape from which it was created. Like our winery on the coast of Normandy in France, Saratoga’s wineries boasted delicate red fruit flavors and subtle earthly tones, primarily due to the cooler climate where these grapes were grown. Of course, France and California’s vineyards were worlds apart—that was obvious to anyone whether they knew their wines or not—but there were very subtle similarities I could pick up on, and I was impressed.
This pinot had a beautiful balance between fruitiness and complexity with notes of cherry, raspberry, and hints of spice. It perfectly represented the vineyard where its grapes were grown and harvested. The wine had been aged only three years, and since it could usually take between two to eight years for a good wine to be produced after harvest, I was truthfully impressed that, in my opinion, the wine had reached its full potential in a short amount of time.
Finally, we had some promising potential for this place. The new fermentation tanks were coming next week, and we’d be harvesting by the end of September, close to three months from now, which meant I’d have plenty of time to work with the marketing team to expand and distribute more wine than this place had ever done. Once that was in place, we could likely start seeing a return on our investment here in as little as four years.
If Darcy Burke hadn’t come up with her ridiculous plan to help recoup losses quickly, I would have been proud of how rapidly I’d managed to turn this shit show around and get the numbers into the black again, and bringing in an enormous amount of cash flow that would make everyone happy they invested in this place.
Speaking of that little devil, her high-spirited ass came home—all smiles and laughter—last evening while I was having dinner with Billy and Tina Burke for the first time since the day I’d arrived.
The family was fascinating, to say the very least. We didn’t discuss anything personal, just small talk about how we would progress and how I was increasingly impressed with the staff’s professionalism since we’d reopened the tasting rooms yesterday. I loved to see that the supply and demand system our marketing team put in place had worked to fill up the calendar and book this place solid for the next two months.
Slowly but surely, and with the right skill in play, we were getting the Burke Wines brand out there. Feeling a bit lighter in my mood because of that, I decided to share that exciting news with Billy and Tina over dinner, and it didn’t take long before Miss California breezed into the dining area, practically skipping with a newfound sense of excitement.
Little did she know that the breakfast I’d invited her to this morning by the poolside bar was meant to extinguish her smug happiness about me being auctioned off like a broodmare.
“Hey,” she said, wearing a soft pink floral camisole that enhanced the tan of her freshly sun-kissed skin. “I know you didn’t miss me, so I’m not sure why you invited me to breakfast.”
“Why wouldn’t I miss you?” I said with a smile of my own, knowing that the tables of excitement were about to turn.
“Well,” she pulled the omelet Antonio had just set down toward her and thanked him before returning her attention to me, “I guess you did?” She chuckled and took a sip of juice while I forked a cube of cantaloupe and popped it into my mouth. “I must say that I was shocked to get home and find you were having dinner with my parents.”
“That’s because we were discussing the excellent progress being made here. Contrary to what you might think, I offer good news as well. It isn’t only critiques.”
“Tell me something,” she said, staring at me with her usual combative expression.
“Okay?” I said after sipping my coffee and forking a slice of strawberry.
“You say you’re not only about giving critiques, but everything that’s come out of your mouth since you got here has been nothing but that, yes?”
“A fair statement.”
“So, what did you do to make you finally offer my parents good news about something? I’m sure it wasn’t because you found something you liked that was already in place.”
“I’m not sure I follow you?” I said, confused by her accusation.
“There’s nothing you haven’t critiqued here, so the fact that you were finally sitting down with my parents and offering them good news is suspicious. Seems obvious that if you had good news, it had to come from something you did.”
I grinned at her insult because it was mostly true, “If you must know, I found the vineyards and the way the grapes are being grown—their location, irrigation, and all of that—to my liking.”
“Yeah, right,” she nodded, eating her omelet and barely tolerating me.
“It’s true. I’m impressed. Your father knows his grapes, and that was something I wasn’t too sure about.”
“Now you understand why he does well in this business and why it was a good investment for your family,” she said with a cockiness she was about to lose in a few moments.
“Well, I didn’t say that he was a good businessman,” I said, “and because of his lack of sense there?—”
“No,” she stopped me, bringing her cloth napkin to her lips. “I will not sit here, eating breakfast with you, and allow you to insult my dad.”
“I paid him a compliment first. Is it wrong of me to set the record straight after you praised his business acumen?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t need you correcting me,” she exhaled. “In fact, while we’re on the subject of my dad and his horrible business acumen… ”
She paused, and I smiled.
“Go on. Perhaps you’re going to tell me that you could run this place better than me?”
She folded her arms and placed them on the table. “Perhaps,” she smiled. I assumed she thought her plan to auction me off for a date night hadn’t gotten back to me.
“Ah,” I baited her more. “And how would you propose to save a failing winery with amazing wine and no one to market it?”
“Well, you bring the winery to the wealthy people who have never heard of it before,” she said with a knowing arch of her eyebrow.
“Indeed?” I smiled. “But how would you accomplish something like that when the last thing the wealthy want is to be intruded upon?”
“Well, I’m sure they’re up for tasting wine, specifically something new. Especially…” she paused, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh.
“Especially what?”
“Especially Sebastian Aster’s wine.”
I watched her cover a smile, utterly amused by her secret plan. If I hadn’t had a trick up my sleeve to turn this around on her, I’d be outraged by the young woman’s presence. But I had my plan to checkmate her ass, and because of that, I found this exchange entertaining.
“Ah, I see,” I answered her. “Of course, you must know there’s more to it than marketing. Like I said, the wealthy do not like to be bothered with nonsense and solicitors.”
“Right, they must want to invest,” she challenged. “And they can only want to invest if they taste what Sebastian Aster is offering.” She sat back in her chair, “I believe there are hundreds, if not more, of people of your status who would pay anything to sample a piece of you.”
I met her challenging expression with an arch of my brow, “You believe that, huh?”
“I know that,” she said too proudly.
“Of course you do,” I said. The time for her games was over, and now it was my turn to flip the script. “But how would you know anything about what people of my status would feel about me enough to want to sample a piece of anything I had to offer?”
Her confident expression started to falter, “Well, it’s obvious. You’re a good-looking man with a lot of money.”
“A dime a dozen. People of my status want more than that,” I lied.
Obviously, people of my status were attracted to wealth and success before anything else. Still, I lied for a reason, which was unfolding before my eyes as I watched confident and cute Darcy turn into timid and concerned Darcy.
“Forgive me, I forgot, they want status and success too. Tell me,” she seemed to grow flustered, “why are we even having this conversation, and why did you ask me to breakfast?”
“Why did you accept my invitation?” I smiled.
“I asked first.”
“Well, to answer your first question, we’re having this conversation because you boldly proclaimed that you could run a business better than me.”
“Well, not better than you. Who knows, maybe I could.”
“Perhaps you could. If you researched business models and planned things well in advance, your feisty, competitive nature, which I find myself combating daily, would do very well.”
“I do my research,” she answered.
“Not well enough,” I dabbed the corners of my mouth. “Certainly not as well as I would, and that’s a fact.”
“You seem confident in that,” she challenged.
“If I weren’t confident, I wouldn’t have challenged you to counter that truth.”
“Well, my latest business plan, which I proposed for a quick return on your and Jim Mitchell’s investment in the winery, proves that I’m better at ROI than you could ever be.”
Bingo. It didn’t take long for me to get this conversation where I wanted it. Now, she was agitated, flustered, overly confident, and about to be blindsided about her stupid plan.
“Oh? What did you come up with? You act like you’ve set some plan into action, and my father and Mr. Mitchell have adopted it.”
“You mean to sit here and tell me that you know nothing about it?” she questioned with confusion.
“Perhaps we now know your reason for accepting my offer to join me for breakfast?”
“Huh?” she said with irritation, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You came to see how upset and concerned I was about this little business plan you proposed to Jim and my father?” I said with a roll of my eyes.
Her smile returned, “It seems you’re not too thrilled about it?”
“Oh, when you learn my plans, you will be the one who is not too thrilled about it.”
“There’s no way you’ll be able to back out of this. You know this winery needs money, and you know?—”
I cut her off before she could finish her sentence. I was done hearing about me being the grand prize at this obnoxious bachelor benefit.
“I know the bachelor , Maxwell Barbison, won’t fetch as much money as you’ve pitched to Jim and my father.”
“I wasn’t expecting him to. I knew that you would, though.”
“Well, I’d have to be an eligible bachelor to participate,” I said, “and I’m not.”
“Oh God,” she rolled her eyes. “What, did you snag Steph as a girlfriend to avoid this while I was gone?”
“No. You are my new girlfriend, whether you want to be or not.”
“Never going to happen,” she laughed as if I were joking.
“Never say never, sweetheart,” I smiled.
“ Never .”
“Perhaps you’ll reconsider when I tell you that I’m willing to give you any details you’d like about me and my personal life for your cute little gossip column?”
The color drained from her face.
“What?”
“You see, it’s as simple as this. The thing those vultures want most, even more than to date me, is to know every detail about me. I’m sure you already knew this in your line of work?”
“Yeah,” she said unconvincingly.
“Well, by allowing you to write a tell-all article about me, you will bring in an insurmountable revenue to your magazine and that spying billionaire chump you unfortunately work for, and it will also bring in peak interest to this estate, far more than auctioning me off ever would.”
She paused for a long time, probably weighing pros and cons like no one ever had.
“All I have to do is pretend that I’m your girlfriend to keep you from getting auctioned off?” she said, as if this deal was worse for me than I would make it for her once we started fake dating .
“Correct. You stand in as my girlfriend, who I fell head-over-heels for soon after I arrived here, and I’ll give you everything you need to know for your column. It’s a win-win.”
“I’m no fool,” she said. “You’re a businessman, and you will always be the one to come out on top.”
“No,” I simply stated. “But it needs to be believable, so if I see that you’re not playing your role for everyone to see, the deal is off.”
“What if I insist the deal is off?”
“You wouldn’t do that. I’ve researched you, and of all those bottom-feeding dumbasses you’ve been writing about, this will be your biggest story by a mile.”
Her expression told me I was right.
“You need this as much as I do,” she said.
“Do I?”
“Hmm,” she said in an exhale of nervousness and frustration. “Fine, but this is only to help my parents.”
I grinned, knowing she had no idea what she was in for, “Excellent. Now, I will inform my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell about how we’re in love—you more with me, of course?—
and remove my name from their roster of stallions to be auctioned.”
“No,” she instantly shook her head. “Jim and Avery can’t—well, Avery can’t know about this.”
“They must know about this. They’re attending your ridiculous event. Everyone will know about this,” I said somberly.
She was nervous, and I was already enjoying watching her squirm in her hatred of me for ruining her plans, “You don’t understand. Avery and I were talking, and?—”
“Oh?” I smiled. “Perhaps she was already predicting a love affair blossoming between a grieving widower, such as myself, and a spoiled brat, such as yourself?”
She didn’t like that. “Oh, you know that, huh?”
“That’s what women do, isn’t it? They see fairytales in every situation.” I stood, “However, I am no goddamn prince, and I will be rescuing no one. I’m just trying to survive this horrific life since my wife died , all while people are trying to take advantage of me and force me into brutally uncomfortable situations.” I picked up my phone from the table and slid it into the inside pocket of my suit coat. “You will stand in as my fake girlfriend, Darcy Burke, and you’ll play your role. Our first double date will be with The Mitchells and the people in their circle, and you’re going to make sure everyone knows that you positively adore your new boyfriend.”
“And your parents?” she said through gritted teeth, standing up and looking like she wanted to punch me in the face. “What will they think of you dating someone like me?”
“They will be outraged and disgusted. I do not doubt that,” I said. “That just gives me more fuel to go through with this business plan of mine, which is more successful than yours because, unlike you, Darcy, I do my research. I know everything before I throw out ideas and hope they will stick.” I slid my hands into my pockets, watching her seethe and feeling the same. “I hope you’re proud of yourself for involving me in your petty little game because if you hated me before you left to go chum it up with all those people, you will despise me now.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she snapped.
“You shouldn’t be,” I answered her outburst of frustration. “But what you will be is miserable until after that ridiculous event. That should concern you more than fearing me.”
“Go fuck yourself,” she said. Her rage replaced every comeback she wanted to give me, but she couldn’t think.
“Perhaps I’ll have you do that if you try to pull anything else like this on me again.”
“Ugh,” I heard her say after I left her to process everything I’d roped her into.
I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that everyone who’d planned this, thinking it was in my best interest, would soon find out it was the worst thing to expect me to do. If that’s how they wanted to play it, I would ensure everyone was as uncomfortable as me.
No one had any regard for my grief because they’d decided it was time for me to move on. The outrageous part was that they thought the best way to open me up was to make a joke out of me, standing me on a stage and auctioning me off like a prized hog.
Fuck no. I had more self-respect than that, and everyone was about to find that out, especially Darcy Burke.