The Vineyard at Painted Moon Read online

  “Buy a winery?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Because going to work for someone else was just more of the same, and wasn’t she tired of that?

  Maybe Rhys was pushing her, but that didn’t mean his advice wasn’t sound. Especially about Bruno. She’d always respected him, and what she knew about him, she liked. If nothing else, she knew he would give her honest advice.

  “You’re right about talking to Bruno. I’ll get that set up right away.”

  He smiled at her. “You’re going to do great.”

  “I could fall on my butt.”

  “It’s never going to happen. You’re too good and you work too hard.”

  She hoped he was right about that. Since graduating college, she’d only ever had one job for one company and that was a family business. Did she even know what the real world was like?

  Not that it mattered, she told herself, because she was about to find out.

  eleven

  Barbara reviewed the stack of checks in front of her. Lori handled the day-to-day bills, but every quarter, Barbara insisted on a review of all payments. There were also larger checks that she signed herself, such as the property tax payment and the royalty checks to Mackenzie.

  “You’re sure these are right?” she asked automatically, not bothering to look at Lori seated on the opposite side of the desk.

  “Yes.”

  The review complete, Barbara signed the checks. She lingered over the one to Mackenzie, telling herself not to feel bitter about the money. For every dollar her daughter-in-law made, Bel Après made four, so that was a win. Still, she shouldn’t have taken the bet, she thought, feeling mildly resentful.

  “Knock!”

  She looked up and saw Catherine standing in the doorway to her large office. As always, the sight of her youngest made her tense. Just the outfit alone—a hideous, shapeless dress with giant printed flowers—was enough to make her wince.

  Catherine had so much promise. She was smart and creative. If she’d shown the slightest bit of interest, Barbara would have been thrilled to teach her about the business. She suspected that of all her children, Catherine was the one with the gift for winemaking. But like Stephanie, Catherine hadn’t wanted anything to do with Bel Après. Instead she played with paints and clay, claiming art was her destiny.

  “I wanted to let you two know I left baskets of blueberries in your kitchen.”

  Barbara took off her reading glasses. “There’s a perfectly good farmer’s market not three miles from the house. Why do you waste your time on that ridiculous garden?”

  Catherine smiled. “Mom, given how much you love the vineyards, I would think you would be pleased that I want to grow something.”

  “The vineyards serve a purpose.”

  “So does my garden. It’s important for my children to understand where things come from. There’s magic in planting a seed and watching it become a carrot or a blueberry. Mother Earth is a great blessing to us, and we should respect that.”

  For the millionth time, Barbara wondered where she’d gone wrong with her youngest. She’d never been dropped on her head, so there wasn’t an injury to blame.

  Jaguar was far more grounded—he worked for a farm-equipment repair company. If it was big and had an engine, he could fix it. Barbara could respect his abilities and his work ethic. She might question his taste in women, but he was basically a good man. Honest and steady. But Catherine was another matter.

  “I’ll make some muffins,” Lori said. “We can freeze them.”

  “How delightful,” Barbara murmured. “Was there anything else?”

  “That’s all I have, Barbara. Enjoy the berries.”

  With that, Catherine left. Barbara shook her head. That girl. But aside from her youngest, she had to admit everything else was going very well, especially with Bel Après.

  “Your father would be proud of what we’ve accomplished,” she said aloud.

  Lori looked slightly startled, then nodded. “He would. The winery has grown so much. You’ve done a great job, Mom.”

  “Thank you. I believe you’re right. Now, what’s next?”

  * * *

  One quick trip to Seattle and a five-thousand-dollar retainer later, Mackenzie had a divorce lawyer. Ramona Spencer had walked her through the process and agreed that if she and Rhys could come to terms on the settlement, it would be easier for everyone. But, her lawyer had warned her, people got weird about money, so she shouldn’t get her hopes up that there wasn’t going to be a hiccup somewhere. The postnup agreement would help, but divorces could be tricky.

  Mackenzie had tried to explain that Rhys was a really great guy and that they’d already talked everything through, but Ramona’s pitying look had stopped her midsentence. She’d returned home with a stack of paperwork to fill out and a list of online articles about how the divorce would proceed. She’d left Ramona’s contact info with Rhys so he could share his lawyer’s information with her and they could get the divorce started.

  If she thought about the divorce as if it were a project, she was fine. It was only when she allowed herself to realize that it was actually the death of her marriage that she had a difficult time. Adding to the stress was the fact that Barbara didn’t know and Mackenzie didn’t want to tell her. While she thought of Barbara as a surrogate mother, she wasn’t sure their relationship was up to the strain of a divorce—especially if Mackenzie decided to also leave Bel Après.

  And it was a big if. Her head told her staying wasn’t an option, but her heart wasn’t ready to walk away from her home, her family and her life. But staying meant surrendering to a paycheck every two weeks and nothing else. If she had the ability to make her dream come true, shouldn’t she go for it?

  Fortunately for her scattered mind, it was midsummer and there was less for her to do at work. She continued to monitor the vineyards. She’d completed a barrel tasting a couple of days ago and had reported her results to Barbara. Facing her mother-in-law wasn’t easy, but Mackenzie had tried to act as normal as possible and Barbara hadn’t seemed to sense anything was wrong.

  Mackenzie drove to the house and went into her small office. After booting up her laptop, she created a file for the divorce, then downloaded the files her lawyer had sent her. After scanning them, she saved them, then opened a separate folder—this one on Bruno.

  She’d started researching him after Rhys had mentioned him as a possible business partner. At this point she knew about as much as she could for $49.95. He was single, wealthy and successful. There weren’t any bankruptcies, liens or pending lawsuits. He’d never been arrested. He owned several properties—some houses, some commercial. His private jet was leased.

  On paper he seemed like someone she would be comfortable doing business with. But real life was different. Messier. Or maybe her hesitation was more about being scared.

  She looked from the screen to her phone and back, then swore softly as she picked up her phone and searched her contact list, before pushing the button to call the number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Bruno. It’s Mackenzie.”

  He was silent for a second. “How nice to hear from you. Surprising but nice.”

  She heard the smile in his voice and smiled in return. “Yes, I know. I don’t usually call.” Actually she never had before. She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if maybe the next time you’re in town we could talk. Away from the winery. And if you could not say anything to anyone, well, that would be great.”

  She closed her eyes and thought that she should have really thought the conversation through before getting in touch with him.

  “It’s not bad,” she added quickly. “It’s a, um, business thing.” She paused, not sure if she should mention an NDA or not. How exactly did people work that into the conversation? And speaking of an NDA, where on earth
was she going to get one? Could she just find one online?

  “I’m here right now,” he said. “I can meet you in an hour.”

  “Oh. That’s great. Thank you. I’m not sure where would be a good place. I don’t want to be seen with you.” She groaned. “Sorry. That came out wrong. It’s not just you. I don’t want us to be seen together.” Crap! “I’m saying this all wrong.”

  He chuckled. “Now I’m intrigued. Let’s meet at my hotel. We’ll have privacy in my room. And before you start to freak out, I have a suite. We’ll be in the living room. I’m not trying to lure you anywhere.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” she told him. She so wasn’t the “lure” type. “Where are you staying?”

  She expected him to mention the Marcus Whitman Hotel or one of the upscale B and Bs, but instead he said, “I’m at the Marriott Courtyard.”

  “Really?”

  “You sound surprised. I like the hotel. Summer is busy and sometimes it’s hard to get a room, so I rent one for July and August. They take good care of me here.” He gave her the room number.

  “A man of surprises. I will see you at the Marriot Courtyard in an hour.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  He hung up. Mackenzie did the same, then wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Maybe she was taking on too much. Once the divorce was final, she could think about making other changes. Like in a year or two. If she left now, she would miss harvest. She loved harvest. Without her, what would happen to all her grapes? They needed her.

  She rested her arms on the desk and her head on her arms and told herself to either grow a pair or accept she was stuck at Bel Après forever.

  As soon as the thought formed, she straightened. Stuck, she thought in surprise. Was that how she felt? And if it was, then doing something about it was the only option.

  * * *

  Feeling like a third-rate actress in a high school production of a mystery play, Mackenzie drove to the hotel and parked. Nerves battled with fear and apprehension. She had no idea what she was doing and yet here she was—doing it. Whatever “it” was.

  Talking, she told herself as she walked inside and headed for the elevators. They were going to be talking. She would ask for information and hopefully he would give it to her. Then she would know more than she had before.

  After exiting on the top floor, she followed the room numbers to his, then knocked.

  “Mackenzie,” he said, as he opened the door.

  “Hi.”

  He stepped back to let her in.

  She had a brief impression of a sitting area, a small table and chairs, and a closed door leading to what she would guess was the bedroom.

  This was so weird, she thought as she sat at the table. Bruno settled across from her, his expression curious, his posture relaxed. It was only then that she realized he was in suit pants and a dress shirt, while she had on jeans and a T-shirt. No doubt there was mud on her boots, and she wasn’t sure she’d combed her hair even once since getting up that morning. Maybe she should start paying more attention to her wardrobe, she thought glumly. Dressing up for meetings. Only she hadn’t known there was going to be a meeting and Bruno had met her dozens of times. She knew she was very—

  “Mackenzie?”

  She jerked her attention back to the room. “Sorry. I’m a little scattered.”

  He nodded politely.

  She considered how to start, then remembered that she was supposed to have an NDA for him to sign. She really was going to have to get one of those.

  “Can I have your word that what we’re about to talk about remains confidential?”

  One eyebrow rose. “Of course.”

  “Like NDA confidential?”

  “You have my word, Mackenzie. Nothing you tell me will leave this room.”

  “Thank you.” She hesitated. “I’m leaving Bel Après.”

  She spoke without thinking, then realized what she’d said. Her plan had been to tell him about the divorce, but apparently that was not what was most on her mind.

  “You look shocked,” he said mildly. “Did you just surprise yourself?”

  “I did. What I meant to say was that Rhys and I are getting a divorce and that I was thinking about leaving, but maybe it’s more than that.” She pressed a hand to her chest and tried to relax. “Assuming I do leave, I don’t know what to do with my career. I keep coming back to having my own place. I have all these ideas.”

  She paused. “Everyone has ideas, of course, but I think mine are pretty grounded. I know how to make good wine. I have some money, so buying a place is an option, only I don’t want to do all the business stuff.”

  She met his steady gaze. “Bel Après is all I know, so the whole thing is scary, but it’s exciting, too. You’re the most successful person I know, so I thought maybe you could give me some advice.” She stopped there, not sure how to mention the potential partnership thing. Asking him about that seemed presumptuous on her part.

  “What do you want in a winery?” he asked.

  “I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “That’s not true. You’ve been thinking about it your whole life. Tell me.”

  She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the perfect place. “Lots of land. More land than I would need at the beginning. Good vines. Healthy and strong. I want something established, but not so defined that there isn’t room to play, you know? I have techniques I want to try. Wine can be trendy. At the same time, classic is wonderful and I wouldn’t want to lose that. I want to make something great.”

  “So you’re smart to think about buying an established vineyard. Building one from the ground up would take years and millions of dollars.”

  “I only have two million.” Only. She tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement.

  “Where have you looked?”

  “I haven’t. I don’t know where to start and I haven’t told Barbara anything, so there’s that. Rhys knows. He’s the one who said I should talk to you.”

  “Would you consider taking on a partner?”

  Oh, so that was how it was done. He made it look easy. “I would. I’d want someone who would handle the business end of things, including marketing. I want to be left alone to do what I do.”

  “Would you consider going into business with me?”

  She felt her eyes widen. “You’d want to do that with me?”

  He smiled. “Mackenzie, you’re the most talented winemaker I’ve ever met. You’re smart, you’re intuitive and you work hard. You create magic. Yes, I’d very much like to go into business with you.”

  “That would be great. Sure. How would it happen?”

  “First I’d want you to really think about it. This is a big deal. Everything would be different. We’d be fifty-fifty partners. You’d put in your two million and your talent, and I’d front the other money. I’m thinking about six million.”

  She held in a gasp. Eight million dollars in total? For that, couldn’t they buy a small state?

  “That would allow us to purchase something we could work with,” he continued. “Something in the area, because you know the land here.”

  “Who would run the business?”

  “I would.”

  “But you don’t live here.”

  “I’m looking to settle somewhere,” he told her. “If we did this, I’d stay here, in town.”

  “But we’re so small.”

  The smile returned. “I’d adjust. Tell me what you’re thinking. I’m not asking for a commitment, just if you can see yourself saying maybe.”

  “I’m very maybe.”

  “Good. Then I know a winery that might be coming up for sale. A winery that would meet all our criteria.”

  Did they have criteria? “Okay, which one?”

  “Painted Moon.”
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br />   She nearly came out of her seat. “Herman is going to sell Painted Moon?” She supposed it shouldn’t be a surprise—he was in his eighties and his kids had never wanted anything to do with the business, but still.

  “It’s amazing land,” she said. “Not just the acres on Red Mountain but the rest of it. Although the Red Mountain land is perfect. At the base, so it has centuries of runoff. All those nutrients. His cabs are incredible. I was sorry when he reduced wine production and started selling the grapes instead. I wonder what his library is like. It could be tens of thousands of bottles. He always cellared well. I’d want to know what’s contracted from the harvest. We’d want to keep as many tons as possible because I can work with almost anything and—”

  She realized she was doing all the talking. “Too enthusiastic?”

  He laughed. “No. You’re the perfect amount of enthused. He has wine in barrels, by the way. We’ll have to sell that.”

  “Is it any good?”

  “You’ll have to tell me.”

  “He hasn’t really been selling any retail and I don’t think he has a wine club,” she said. “It could be difficult to get distribution on finished wine.” They would need to sell it regardless, she thought. Depending on the size of the barrels, they were talking thousands of gallons, which translated into hundreds of thousands of dollars.

  “I already have that figured out,” Bruno told her. “Give me a high-quality blend and I have a waiting customer.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s more a where. I know a distributor in China. They want great wine that’s exclusive.”

  “Then I can make it great. We might have to buy from other wineries, but with the right blending, I can do it. Herman knows how to make wine.”

  Bruno nodded. “Want me to make a call and set up an appointment for us to talk to Herman?”

  Her head was spinning, but she liked the sensation. “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll also have my attorney draw up a preliminary agreement for you to consider. You’re going to need to have your lawyer look at it. Run it by Rhys, as well.”