Page 100 of Que Será, Syrah

His lips roll in and he shakes his head, but before I can tell him that no amount of head shaking will change those facts, my sisters converge upon us.

“Oh, good; there you are,” Rosa sighs in relief. “I was starting to worry.”

“About what?” I reply, eyeing her sharply, feeling a stab of guilt. “Where’d you think I’d gone?”

“Thank you, Clay,” Bee interrupts brightly as she steps forward. She slips her arm through mine and begins to draw me away. “We can take it from here.”

She looks super excited, and I transfer my frown from Rosa’s face to hers. “Okay. What’s going on? You look like you know something?”

“Me? No.” Bee blinks innocently. “Of course, not. What would I know?”

“Yes you.” Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Clay’s been buttonholed by Rosa. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were arguing. “You and Rosa. You’re both being so weird right now.”

Bee shrugs. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“For starters, you can tell me why you look like someone with a secret. Like you know something that no one else— Omigod!” I dig in my heels and pull her to a stop. “Is that it? Did you hear back from the committee? Did you get the award?”

Biting her lip, Bee glances around, making sure no one can hear, before whispering, “Nothing’s been announced yet, and I don’t know the exact results but…”

“Yes, and…?” I urge impatiently.

“Well, don’t quote me, but I heard we made the short list, so at the very least we’re one of the finalists...”

I squeal and give her a hug. “Oh, you so got it. I know you did; your wines are amazing.”

That’s no lie. The single biggest reason why Caparelli’s re-opening has been such an incredible success is our wines; they’re already winning awards. “Nonna would be so proud of you!”

“She’d be proud of you, too,” Bee replies, eyeing me strangely. Or maybe not so strangely; my nose is suddenly sniffly and I think I might cry. But I know she’s right. Because the second biggest reason for our success is the fabulous branding I’ve done, the sensational buzz I’ve created (today’s overblown article aside) that’s all been me. And it’s all about to be at least partially undone now, thanks to this stupid decision to rename the winery.

Don’t fix what isn’t broken, right? I mean, seriously; who does that? What the hell are they even thinking?

I remember the day I’d first found out about the name change. How I’d walked into Rosa’s office annoyed because the order I’d place for new Caparelli-branded glasses had been cancelled without my knowing.

Those original glasses (the ones I’d unearthed the first day I was back) are kind of sacred, you know? I get teary eyed thinking about how Nonna actually handled those glasses, drank from them, probably washed them—right there in the same, small sink behind the bar that I use.

I didn’t want to wait until they’d all been broken to buy more. Or to settle for generic glasses, even if that makes better sense from an economic standpoint. I wanted to take a few out of circulation, to put them away for safekeeping. But that’s hard to do when there are already days when we’re so busy we run out multiple times, and people have to wait for another load to be washed…

* * *

“Why can’t I order new glasses?” I ask as I burst through the office door, only to find both of my sisters intently studying something on Rosa’s computer, something they clearly don’t want me to see—judging by their startled expressions and the way Rosa immediately closes the screen.

I frown suspiciously. “What are you looking at?”

“Crop reports,” Rosa answers immediately.

“Oh, it’s just the latest numbers from the—” Bee says at the same time. She shoots Rosa a disbelieving look and finishes lamely, “Crop reports.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” I drop into a chair near the desk and say, “Now, about the glasses, we’re running low.”

“Just hold off on buying any new branded ones,” Rosa says soothingly. “Okay?”

“For how long?”

“Not long. Just until after the grand re-opening.”

“But that’s like… Six weeks?”

“That’s not so long, is it?” Bee asks hopefully.

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