Page 29 of Gone With the Wine

“Yeah, there is a lot of chemistry. But you know, there’s no substitute for experience. Most winemakers I’ve worked with use the science but also the taste and feel of the grapes.”

I was more of a science girl.

Last night I learned so much about Bianca Martinelli. I thought she was a smoke show that night I met her, but after listening to her rattle on so passionately about wine, about a dog wearing a bow tie, even about destroying her teacher’s shed, I’m even more attracted. She’s fun. Interesting. Seriously bangable. Also, young. Too young for me.

She’s not immature, though.

“I don’t have that kind of experience,” Diego says regretfully. “Are you hiring a winemaker?”

I shake my head to refocus. “Yeah. Working on it. How close do you think we are to harvest?”

“The forecast is for warm weather. So it could be a matter of days.”

“Shit. I won’t find someone that quickly.”

“Probably not. This isn’t the best time of year to be hiring someone. And after we harvest, there’s a lot of work to do. Testing, checking sugar and alcohol levels, making adjustments. I can do that, but it’s a lot for one person.”

“Okay.” I rub my forehead. I have to quit fantasizing about a winemaker and actually run my goddamn winery.

“We also need to get the reds bottled,” Antonio says. “Unless you want to let them age even more.”

Hell if I know. “How do we know when they’re ready?”

“They’re ready when the cork goes in the bottle,” he says.

Diego laughs.

Ah. That was a joke.

“Seriously, it’s the same thing—experience. Tasting the wine. Deciding if we want to blend any of it, or bottle them as single varietals.”

This I understand now, thanks to Bianca.

“Okay. Leave it with me for a bit.”

They both nod.

I make my way back inside. The person who really runs the business is Carol. She’s the accountant for Take Flight and luckily stayed on. She does a million other things, too, though. I stop in the door to her office. “Hey, Carol. How are you?”

She smiles. I think she’s about sixty, but her deep ochre brown skin is unwrinkled and her smile is youthful. Curly hair bounces around her face when she talks and moves. “I’m good, thanks, boss.”

I smile at being called boss. “How was your dinner last night?” She told me yesterday that her son and new daughter-in-law were having her and her husband over for the first time in their new home.

“It was really nice! Isabella cooked us a lovely dinner. The chicken was a little dry.” She makes a face. “But I didn’t tell her that. And they’re settling into the house.”

We chat a bit more and then I go into my own office and sit at the desk.

Bianca gave that dipstick her number last night. Lucky for me, I have a good memory when it comes to numbers. I pull out my cell phone and look at it for a few minutes.

Am I really calling her for business reasons?

Or am I calling her because I want to give her the business?

Heh.

Might as well be honest. It can be both.

No. This has to be strictly business.

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