Page 49 of Let It Breathe
She nodded, still uneasy. “I don’t understand—you check these barrels every day. So do I. How could we not notice something like this? A little leakage or something?”
Eric stood up and held out his hand, and Reese let him pull her to her feet.
“It can happen suddenly sometimes,” he said. “I saw it once when I was interning in France. This is one of our older barrels—I don’t know, maybe it just gave.”
Reese shook her head. “What are we going to do?”
“Where’s Larissa?” Axl asked. “She’s gotta be able to put a good PR spin on this.”
“On three hundred bottles of spilled wine?” Reese shook her head. “I doubt that.”
Axl grunted. “Unless you’re planning to get a turkey baster and suck it up off the floor, I can’t think of another option.”
She gritted her teeth and looked up at Eric. “Okay, you’ve got that other barrel of Reserve, right? The one we were planning to roll out for the Memorial Day event next week? That’s the same vintage.”
“Right, but it’s not the exact same wine. The members will know the difference.”
“We’ll have to tell them, obviously.”
“So what do we serve the VIP guests at the event?” Eric asked. “It’s going to cut into our profits for that.”
“What choice do we have?” Reese asked. “We’ll write a letter to the club members explaining what happened, and offering to substitute the other Pinot. We can use one of the younger wines for the event. The 2023 has been aging nicely, right?”
“Sure, but that’s gonna leave us with that much less next year.”
Reese sighed. “I don’t know what else to do, Eric. That’s the best I’ve got.”
He grunted and shook his head but didn’t say anything else for a while. “Dick over at Larchwood is going to love this,” he muttered at last. “A hundred bucks says he hears about it and makes it a point to tell everyone who comes through his tasting room for the next month.”
Reese grimaced. It really wasn’t the money—though in light of the added cost for materials in the new building project, the money hurt.
No, the worst of it was the loss of the reputation she’d worked so hard to build. “We’ll look like hacks,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“Get out of here, Peanut Butter Cup,” Axl finally said. “You’ve already had a rough day with Leon. Eric and I can stay here and clean this up.”
“No, it’s my responsibility,” Reese argued. “I should have been here.”
“What for?” Axl snapped. “You think you should sit here twenty-four hours a day with your ass parked on a wine barrel waiting to stick your thumb in a crack?”
“I don’t?—”
“Go!” Axl insisted. “Go take care of the damn camel.”
Reese hesitated, then nodded. “Thank you, Axl. I’ll talk with Larissa when she comes in tomorrow. She can work her PR magic, figure out the best way to explain this to the members.”
She started to turn around, then realized Clay was still standing there looking lost. Or looking forlorn over the wasted wine, she really couldn’t tell.
“Clay—I offered you dinner earlier, didn’t I?”
He tore his eyes away from the wine and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got enough on your mind. If someone could show me where the mop is, I’d be happy to help clean this up.”
“No, really,” Reese insisted. “I feel like I owe you for your help with Leon. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t gotten Dr. Wally out here.”
Clay shook his head. “Really, Reese, you don’t have to feed me.”
“I insist. My place, one hour. Be there. I’ll throw something simple together.”
Eric looked up sharply. “You’re cooking? Count me in. Sheila’s working late tonight. What do you have?”
