Page 77 of Reclaimed Dreams

“The kids did a great job with it,” Jo demurred, and offered her a glass of the red wine she’d opened for the late afternoon meeting.

“I can’t wait for the show to air. I’d love to talk more about how to use that publicity for the good of our community.”

This woman’s networking game was on point. No wonder she was the president of the local wine association.

“I’m going to put you in touch with my soon-to-be son-in-law, Jake Ryland, about that. When I met you at that garden show a few months ago, I knew you’d be just the right person to ask for help. Frankly, this all feels a little overwhelming.”

Camelia James tucked her blonde hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward. “I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

Jo smiled and took a sip of her own glass of red before admitting near-blasphemy in wine country: “I don’t want to run a winery.”

“Well, um. I can see how that could be a problem.”

Jo laughed at the way the younger woman’s face carefully blanked and tact infused her voice.

“My darling husband bought this property on a lovely whim, but we know nothing about winemaking. And I refuse to spend my retirement—sorry,” she leaned into Dom and put a hand on his knee, “our retirement taking on a completely new industry.”

“Understandable.”

“But I do not want to sell this place. I can see the potential from the hospitality side, from the wine business side, and from the property rental side. It’s a good investment, and like you said, we’d like to spread the attention and wealth into our new community. But we cannot do this on our own. We need advice on how to make it all happen and have it not completely consume our lives.”

“So, a few questions. Do you or your children intend to cultivate the grapes yourselves?”

“No, at least not in the short term. We can help keep an eye on things, but backyard gardening is my current level of expertise.”

Camelia pulled out her cell phone and began tapping in notes. “Do you want to make a Valenti Vineyards label wine? Or would you just prefer to sell the grapes to the highest bidder to be incorporated into established wine brands?”

Jo looked at Dom and could see the thought in his head before he said anything.

“Yes, I think we’d like to have bottles of our own wine made.” She took his hand in hers, and he squeezed his agreement.

“Do you plan to distribute them widely or just keep them for the estate?” Camelia asked.

“I hadn’t thought about that. How many bottles of wine do you think we’ll have?”

“Given the acreage, depending on yield, you could have anywhere from five thousand to twenty-five thousand cases. The last owners didn’t take very good care of it, and still sold a hundred tons a year to my father. If you ever change your mind on bottling your own, I’m sure he’d be open to renewing a contract.”

Jo’s jaw dropped. Holy cow! She hadn’t imagined that level of scale. “I…I’m not sure.”

Camelia tapped more on her phone. “That’s fine. This is enough to get us started. I’m texting you the contact numbers for Julio Marcano, a local lawyer who works with the winegrowers association, Garrett Carter, who is the best vineyard manager around, and my cousin Jocelyn Meyer who runs a women-owned custom crush facility just a few towns over.” She tapped her phone again, and Jo’s buzzed in her pocket.

“See? I knew she was the person to ask.” Jo elbowed Dom playfully. “We can ask smart questions, make some smart decisions, and then let very smart people follow through on those decisions.”

“I guess,” Dom groused. “But I still want to learn more about the process.”

“That’s a given if you’re going to be in the wine industry,” Camelia reassured him. “But these folks will be able to coach you through that process while you’re getting started. And each year, you’ll have the opportunity to make new decisions and try new avenues. Nothing in this business is forever.” A shadow passed over her face and Jo wondered, but didn’t ask.

“Thank you for this. This is exactly what we needed. We didn’t know what we didn’t know.”

“My pleasure. As property owners, you both are automatic members of our local wine association now, and we have monthly meetings both to continue education and foster these connections. We might not be as well known as Napa yet, but we’re working on it. Having another rental property plus wedding venue in the area, tied to a popular TV show and family wine brand, would be wonderful.”

Dom bumped Jo’s shoulder this time. “See? Someone appreciates my genius marketing scheme.”

“I’d appreciate your genius a whole lot more if it would talk to me first before making major financial decisions.”

“Touché,” Dom conceded.

Jo turned back to Camelia. “Let me give you a tour of the grounds and get your opinion on what type of venue would best serve the area.”

“Lead the way!”

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