A Lot like Love
Page 69
Jordan threw him a look. “It’s a wine tasting, Nick. You’re not exactly being tortured here.”
“Anything that keeps me from being alone with you is torture, Rhodes.”
She shook her head. “Ha—that’s not going to work this time.” She pointed. “Behind those gates is what’s rumored to be a new cabernet that rivals some of the best in all of Napa and Sonoma. I love cabernet. I’ve been in the Napa Valley for”—she checked her watch—“two hours and thirty-eight minutes and I haven’t had a drop of wine yet. Don’t get me wrong, I love earth-shattering sex as much as the next girl, but right now we are going inside and trying that wine.”
“What happens if I say no?”
“You can pretty much kiss spit or swallow good-bye.”
Nick was out of the car in a flash.
Jordan watched with amusement as he walked around the car, opened her door, and held out his hand, all gentlemanly.
“Ms. Rhodes.”
“Mr. Stanton.” She slipped her hand into his, looking forward to the day when he was once again simply Nick McCall.
Their driver nodded at them as they passed through the gates. “Enjoy the wine. I’ve heard good things.”
Jordan checked her watch. She and Nick were scheduled for a four o’clock appointment, the last tasting of the day. “We’ll probably be about an hour and a half.”
“Take your time,” the driver said, with the easy grin of a man who was paid well by the hour.
With her hand in Nick’s, they strolled through a beautifully landscaped Mediterranean-style courtyard with a fountain.
“Okay, tell me what I need to know about this place,” he said.
“They’re new—their first vintage will release next month. They’re not a large vineyard, only about forty acres. They produce exclusively cabernet sauvignon. They’re very eager to compete with the top wineries in the market, and at only a hundred dollars per bottle, have priced themselves well to do that.”
Nick shot her a look. “Only a hundred dollars a bottle?”
“For the big boys of cabernet, that’s not a bad price. If I can get them to lower their bulk rate, I plan to make them one of our May wine club wines. Assuming I like what I taste.”
At the end of the courtyard, they came to a set of enormous oak doors—at least fifteen feet tall—that led into a two-story winemaking facility. The doors were open, and a professionally dressed woman in her late twenties greeted them warmly.
“Welcome to Barrasford Estates, Ms. Rhodes,” she said.
Jordan smiled and shook her hand. “Call me Jordan. This is Nick Stanton.”
“I’m Claire,” she said, shaking Nick’s hand next. “Follow me.”
They made small talk, and Claire asked them about their trip while leading them through the wine production facilities. In sharp contrast to the warm Mediterranean style of the outside grounds, everything inside was modern and pristine stainless steel—except for the twelve massive French oak fermentation tanks that were roughly fifteen feet high by ten feet wide.
“Explains the size of the doors,” Nick noted.
Claire nodded. “Moving those tanks in here was quite an adventure, I can tell you.”
The tour of the facilities was shorter than many Jordan had been on at other wineries, and she wondered about that until Claire explained.
“We do things a little different here,” she said. “We like people to see all stages of our wine-making process as it’s actually happening, so we’ll be showing you a short documentary film that covers everything from harvest to bottling.”
She led them into a large conference room with one wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that captured a view of the valley and the Mayacamas mountain range. Claire invited them to have a seat at the marble-covered table, and opened a bottle of wine.
She explained as she poured two glasses. “So this is our estate cabernet—which will make its debut this coming May. The grapes were harvested two and a half years ago, then the wine was aged for eighteen months in oak barrels.” She handed Jordan and Nick each a glass. “Enjoy the wine while you watch our film. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes and would be happy to answer any questions you might have.”
After Claire left, Jordan swirled her glass, releasing the aromas of the dark red, fragrant wine.
“This is more formal than I’d expected,” Nick said. “Are all wine tastings like this?”
“It varies. Some take you on a tour of the facilities or bring you out to the vineyards. Others are more casual and you just pull up a chair and drink. Barrasford Estate apparently has a movie.” She took a sip. The wine was lush and full, exactly what she liked in a cabernet. “Now that’s a mouthful.” She winked at Nick as the lights in the room dimmed and a screen dropped down from the front of the room.
After the film ended, Claire came back and asked what they thought of the wine. Jordan had explained who she was when she’d made the tasting appointment, so they knew she was there on business. She praised the wine and raised the idea of introducing it to her store’s club members.
“Your cab would be slightly outside my usual price point, but I’m hopeful we can work something out given the size of the order I would place,” she said to Claire.
“I don’t have the authority to handle any sort of negotiations with respect to price,” Claire said apologetically.
“Anything that keeps me from being alone with you is torture, Rhodes.”
She shook her head. “Ha—that’s not going to work this time.” She pointed. “Behind those gates is what’s rumored to be a new cabernet that rivals some of the best in all of Napa and Sonoma. I love cabernet. I’ve been in the Napa Valley for”—she checked her watch—“two hours and thirty-eight minutes and I haven’t had a drop of wine yet. Don’t get me wrong, I love earth-shattering sex as much as the next girl, but right now we are going inside and trying that wine.”
“What happens if I say no?”
“You can pretty much kiss spit or swallow good-bye.”
Nick was out of the car in a flash.
Jordan watched with amusement as he walked around the car, opened her door, and held out his hand, all gentlemanly.
“Ms. Rhodes.”
“Mr. Stanton.” She slipped her hand into his, looking forward to the day when he was once again simply Nick McCall.
Their driver nodded at them as they passed through the gates. “Enjoy the wine. I’ve heard good things.”
Jordan checked her watch. She and Nick were scheduled for a four o’clock appointment, the last tasting of the day. “We’ll probably be about an hour and a half.”
“Take your time,” the driver said, with the easy grin of a man who was paid well by the hour.
With her hand in Nick’s, they strolled through a beautifully landscaped Mediterranean-style courtyard with a fountain.
“Okay, tell me what I need to know about this place,” he said.
“They’re new—their first vintage will release next month. They’re not a large vineyard, only about forty acres. They produce exclusively cabernet sauvignon. They’re very eager to compete with the top wineries in the market, and at only a hundred dollars per bottle, have priced themselves well to do that.”
Nick shot her a look. “Only a hundred dollars a bottle?”
“For the big boys of cabernet, that’s not a bad price. If I can get them to lower their bulk rate, I plan to make them one of our May wine club wines. Assuming I like what I taste.”
At the end of the courtyard, they came to a set of enormous oak doors—at least fifteen feet tall—that led into a two-story winemaking facility. The doors were open, and a professionally dressed woman in her late twenties greeted them warmly.
“Welcome to Barrasford Estates, Ms. Rhodes,” she said.
Jordan smiled and shook her hand. “Call me Jordan. This is Nick Stanton.”
“I’m Claire,” she said, shaking Nick’s hand next. “Follow me.”
They made small talk, and Claire asked them about their trip while leading them through the wine production facilities. In sharp contrast to the warm Mediterranean style of the outside grounds, everything inside was modern and pristine stainless steel—except for the twelve massive French oak fermentation tanks that were roughly fifteen feet high by ten feet wide.
“Explains the size of the doors,” Nick noted.
Claire nodded. “Moving those tanks in here was quite an adventure, I can tell you.”
The tour of the facilities was shorter than many Jordan had been on at other wineries, and she wondered about that until Claire explained.
“We do things a little different here,” she said. “We like people to see all stages of our wine-making process as it’s actually happening, so we’ll be showing you a short documentary film that covers everything from harvest to bottling.”
She led them into a large conference room with one wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that captured a view of the valley and the Mayacamas mountain range. Claire invited them to have a seat at the marble-covered table, and opened a bottle of wine.
She explained as she poured two glasses. “So this is our estate cabernet—which will make its debut this coming May. The grapes were harvested two and a half years ago, then the wine was aged for eighteen months in oak barrels.” She handed Jordan and Nick each a glass. “Enjoy the wine while you watch our film. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes and would be happy to answer any questions you might have.”
After Claire left, Jordan swirled her glass, releasing the aromas of the dark red, fragrant wine.
“This is more formal than I’d expected,” Nick said. “Are all wine tastings like this?”
“It varies. Some take you on a tour of the facilities or bring you out to the vineyards. Others are more casual and you just pull up a chair and drink. Barrasford Estate apparently has a movie.” She took a sip. The wine was lush and full, exactly what she liked in a cabernet. “Now that’s a mouthful.” She winked at Nick as the lights in the room dimmed and a screen dropped down from the front of the room.
After the film ended, Claire came back and asked what they thought of the wine. Jordan had explained who she was when she’d made the tasting appointment, so they knew she was there on business. She praised the wine and raised the idea of introducing it to her store’s club members.
“Your cab would be slightly outside my usual price point, but I’m hopeful we can work something out given the size of the order I would place,” she said to Claire.
“I don’t have the authority to handle any sort of negotiations with respect to price,” Claire said apologetically.
