Page 28 of Mr. Aster
I didn’t want to dateanyonethese days. I was very happy being alone, as I’d been for the last couple of years. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, nor did I want one. So, no matter what anyone thought about a handsome, very eligible bachelor living with me and my parents, I would be the first to crush those dreams. The only thing I wanted from him being an eligible bachelor was to pimp his ass out and use other women’s desire to rake in a shit ton of money.
Chapter Twelve
Sebastian
Iswirled 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 nothingbutthat, yes?”
“A fair statement.”
“So, what did youdo to make youfinallyoffer 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 themgood newsis suspicious. Seems obvious that if you had good news, it had to come from somethingyoudid.”
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?”
