Champagne and Daisies

by SJ McCoy

He laughed. “Neither can I, but fortunately for me, neither could Laura. I think the reason we make a good couple is that neither of us really knows how to be a couple. We’re just two strong individuals who like to live alongside each other.”

  “Aww, I love that. That sounds like my perfect relationship.”

  “Do you think you might find that with him?”

  Chelsea shook her head.

  “Too early?”

  “Waaay too early.”

  Smoke smiled. “You take your time.”

  ~ ~ ~

  After Smoke and Laura had left, Grant and Chelsea took their lunch outside and sat on the little deck behind the cottage.

  Chelsea unwrapped her sandwich and smiled. “How did you know I like Reubens?”

  “I wish I could claim that I pay attention, but I have to admit, I asked Laura.”

  She laughed. “Fair enough. At least you get points for honesty.”

  He smiled and took a bite of his own sandwich. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”

  She shrugged. “We could still go for a drive if you want?”

  He nodded. “We could.”

  “Or, we could go into Zosca.”

  He grinned. He’d been hoping she’d say that.

  “You want to?”

  “I do.”

  She made a face. “What for?”

  “I just like the idea of us going in there, now we’re together. It’ll make it a lot easier to go through everything, to talk about your options.”

  “Phew. That’s what I was thinking, I want to show you everything, now that you’re not the enemy.”

  He laughed. “You saw me as the enemy?”

  “Not really, but I wanted to—at least in the beginning.”

  “I was never the enemy. I’ve always wanted to see you succeed.”

  She smiled. “I think I know that, but now I know that you’re more likely to listen to me—to make an effort to understand what I’m doing.”

  Grant nodded; it was true. His priorities had shifted. This wasn’t a normal turnaround job. It hadn’t been since he knew Chelsea was the one managing the place. His main priority was no longer improving the bottom line—it was helping her. He’d always thought that helping a business was the same thing as improving the bottom line. In this case, he understood that it wasn’t. He could help Chelsea achieve her goals, not steer her toward a goal she didn’t value.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was a beautiful afternoon, and once they reached Zosca, it seemed even more beautiful. The place was quiet with none of the weekday bustle. Grant got out of the car and stretched his legs. “I love this place.”

  She came around the car and smiled at him. “I do, too. There’s something special about it. It’s not just another vineyard, just another winery, it has a feel all of its own. It’s destined for greatness, and it knows it.”

  He laughed. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  She nodded seriously. “I do, and I think you finally understand that when I say greatness, I don’t mean huge financial success. I’m not against that, I wouldn’t mind it in the least, but if it happens, it will be a side effect. If Zosca ever does become a financial success story, it will be because my wines are a success. My goal is to create amazing wines, and if I manage that, the money will follow.”

  Grant pursed his lips.

  “What, you still think I should focus on the money, first?”

  He shook his head. “No, I think you’re right to focus on the wine first, but I think you’re blind if you believe that the money will just follow. It isn’t magic; there’s no automatic financial success that comes from great wine. You still have to take care of the money.”

  She frowned.

  “Don’t look like that. It’s true, and you really need to wrap your head around it. I’m sorry if I’m peeing on your parade, but you worry me when you talk like that. That’s the way my grandad thought. He truly believed that his success at making great wines would translate to financial success. And you know how that turned out.”

  She nodded sadly. “Dawson Dale wines won all kinds of awards and accolades. They were fabulous, by all accounts.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  She shrugged. “Okay, so I may have read up about them—and about your grandad.”

  He smiled, pleased that she was interested.

  “I didn’t understand how the winery went out of business when he was making such wonderful wine.”

  “Because he didn’t take care of the business side. That’s what I’m saying. There’s no magic. Look at all the mediocre mass-produced wines that do so well commercially. A good business brain can make that happen. A great business can make a success of mediocre wines, but great wines can’t make a success of a mediocre business.”

  Her eyebrows came down and her lips pressed together. He didn’t mean to piss her off, but he had to say it. It was a truth she needed to understand. She heaved a big sigh and unlocked the door of the office building.

  He followed her through to the break room waiting for her to speak. She went to the fridge and pulled out two sodas. He took the one she offered without a word. She went and flopped down on one of the sofas and opened her drink. He went and sat down beside her, beginning to wonder if she was going to say anything at all. Eventually, she shook her head and met his gaze.

  “Do you realize you’ve just blown my secret business plan out of the water?”

  “Your secret business plan?”

  She gave him a rueful smile. “Yeah, the one where I make great wines and take care of my people, and because of that everything else falls into place.”

  It was his turn to sigh.

  “Don’t look like that. I know it’s dumb, I know there has to be more to it than that, but I just don’t know what. It seems to me that everything that goes into making a good business goes against what I want to do in terms of my staff and my wines.”

  “No. It doesn’t have to go against it; there just has to be compromise.”

  “What kind of compromise?”

  “Like we talked about the other day, you have to take care of the business before you take care of your employees.”

  “But when I take care of them they take care of the business.”

  “Do they buy you new equipment? Do they invest in Zosca’s growth?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t mean like that. I mean they do their best.”

  “Like José?” He knew it was a low blow, but he needed her to face facts.

  She nodded sadly.

  “I’m not picking on him, I’m just making the point that them doing their best isn’t going to save Zosca, let alone help you grow it. But say, for example, you took even just half the money you pay out in bonuses and invested it instead. For example, if you were to buy a new bottling machine, you’d increase efficiency and save time. That would help in a much more real sense. You’d be able to grow and bring more money in. Do you see that?”

  She nodded again. “I do, I’m not stupid, but it’s hard. How could I take away half the bonus? What would I tell them?”

  “That you’re putting the money to better use, growing the company, ensuring their future. Even you know that halving the bonus would be way easier than telling them they’re out of work because you can’t afford to keep the place going.”

  She nodded sadly. “I know you’re right, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”

  Grant closed his eyes for a moment. There was no point pushing it and pushing it, not right now. He’d leave the thought with her, let the reality sink in. He knew she wasn’t stupid; she was just like so many other managers who didn’t want to face harsh realities. She needed time to get used to the idea.

  She shrugged and smiled. “Anyway, do you want to go out and walk the vines?”

  “I’d love to.”

  He followed her outside and up into the fields. He loved to walk the v
ines. He’d done it so often as a kid with his grandad. It brought him a sense of peace and a sense of purpose at the same time. Chelsea seemed lost in thought, and he took hold of her hand. He wanted to see her smile, but more than that he wanted her to feel hopeful. He wanted her to know that she could make Zosca a success.

  She looked up at him with a smile. “Thank you.”

  “What for?”

  She laughed. “For not going on and on at me, for letting me process it all.”

  He nodded. “I don’t need to ram it down your throat. I know that. You need to noodle it all through. In your own time. In the meantime, there is something I’d like to ask you.”

  She looked wary again.

  “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to do with business. At least, not how you run it.”

  She relaxed. “Okay, then. What do you want to know?”

  “About the name. Why’s it called Zosca? Did you come up with that? What does it mean?”

  She laughed. “I did. Dad didn’t like it much to start with, but it’s grown on him, or at least he’s stopped complaining about it—probably because there are so many other things he likes to complain about.”

  He gave her a stern look; he was trying to steer her away from dwelling on all of that.

  “Sorry, the fun part is what it means.” She chuckled. “It doesn’t actually mean anything. I made it up, even though I didn’t think I did.”

  “Huh? I don’t follow.”

  She chuckled again. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to name a winery? There must be hundreds of thousands of them, and all the good names are taken. Anything to do with a place or a myth or just about anything you can think of—they’re all being used. Can you think of anything in Napa that isn’t already associated with a wine label? No? Me neither. So, you research what goes into naming a winery, coming up with a label. According to most sources, you need to have something memorable, distinctive, protectable, positive … there’s a whole list of criteria. In the end, I decided to search for some obscure star name—since I liked the image of a shooting star. I trolled through lists and lists, and eventually, I found Zosca.”

  Grant smiled. “I like it.”

  She laughed. “Other than the fact that it starts with a Z—which is far from ideal from a marketing point of view. Don’t worry, I am aware of that. I got so frustrated that I even considered naming it Aardvark Wines, but someone already snagged that name!”

  Grant chuckled. “It might get you first place on any alphabetical listing, but that’s about all that name has going for it.”

  “I agree. So, I stuck with Zosca, but then I went back to further research my little star. I wondered if there were any interesting tidbits of information about it that I could incorporate into the brand. But I never could find it again. I must have made it up. The closest I found was a star named Zosma.”

  “And you didn’t want to change to that?”

  She laughed. “No. For one thing, I don’t like the sound of it as much. And for another, I read somewhere that Zosma means loin cloth!”

  Grant laughed with her. “Yeah, probably not the connotation you’re looking for.”

  “Nope, and then lastly, but by no means least, it’s part of the Leo constellation, and I don’t like Leos.”

  “Oh.”

  She sat up straight and looked him in the eye. “Don’t tell me you’re a Leo?”

  He chuckled. “I am, but I don’t know why you don’t like that. We Leos are loveable.”

  She made a face. “You all think you are. You’re egotistical and have to be the center of attention.”

  “That’s not exactly true. We like attention because we like to love and be loved. We’re fun and adventurous.”

  She shook her head. “Controlling.”

  “No. Responsible, and therefore, we like to make sure things are done the right way.”

  “Like I said, controlling.”

  He laughed. “You’re not going to dump me for being a Leo, are you?”

  She smiled. “No, but I’m glad I know. I’ll tread more carefully now.”

  “You don’t need to do that, just be nice to me?” he winked at her.

  “You mean tread carefully around your huge ego?”

  He rolled his eyes. “If you say so.”

  ~ ~ ~

  It was dark by the time they got finished. They’d walked the vines and then gone into the offices. Grant had talked her through the changes she could make. She was thrilled. She could see all kinds of ways to make her operations more efficient now—and without making uncomfortable sacrifices. She was excited to talk to her dad and to get things going with Smoke so that she could buy the place. Grant was right, there wasn’t much point in continuing on with the three-month period. He’d already done more than she’d have believed possible.

  She locked the door behind them, and Grant took hold of her hand as they made their way back to her car. She stopped and looked up at him. “Thank you.”

  He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

  “I’d love to. If you’re okay with that?”

  “I am. I don’t mind who sees us, and I don’t think us dating will get in the way of anything. Do you?”

  “I don’t. Especially if you’re going to kick me out of Zosca now.”

  She laughed. “I’m not kicking you out. Part of me wishes you’d stay.”

  He smiled. “Part of me wishes I could, but there’s nothing left for me to do.”

  “Maybe not in finding things that need fixing, but I know you could make it all run smoothly. I know my great wines would have a great business behind them if you were running it.”

  His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head quickly.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know that’s not what you do. Just forget it? Come on, let’s go to Molly’s.”

  Molly grinned at Chelsea when they walked in. “Hey! It’s good to see you.” She turned to Grant. “And it’s good to see you, too. Are we here for business, or pleasure?”

  Chelsea laughed. “Pleasure. And to save you from wondering, yes, we’re on a date.”

  “That’s awesome. I have to tell you, you look great together. So, how about I give you a table by the window? That way when the tourists walk by, they’ll be able to see that this is where the beautiful people hang out.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Okay.”

  Once they were seated and Molly had gone to get their drinks, Grant reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “So, this is our first official date?”

  She nodded. “Strange as that may be.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Considering we’ve already spent two nights together.”

  “Yeah. We didn’t get off to a conventional start, but I’ll try to make it up to you.”

  “There’s nothing to make up for. I like the way we started.”

  “Me too. All I mean is that from here on out I want to wine you and dine you and court you properly.”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Do people still do that? Do they even use that word?”

  “What, courting?”

  “Yeah. It sounds so old fashioned.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe it is, but I like it. It’s better than dating. It’s more …”

  Molly arrived back at their table with their drinks “Are we ready to order?”

  Chelsea shook her head. They hadn’t even opened their menus yet. She was more interested in hearing what Grant had to say about courting. She liked the sound of it. She wanted to know what it meant to him.

  “Sorry, I’ll be back.” Molly shot her an apologetic look as she retreated.

  Grant opened his menu. So, he wasn’t going to finish what he was saying? Chelsea watched him for a moment, hoping that he’d look up and tell her about what courting was to him. He didn’t, and it didn’t seem
right to ask. Instead, she picked up her own menu.

  Once Molly had been back and taken their order, Chelsea reached over and took hold of Grant’s hand. She liked where they’d been, and wanted to go back there. “Do you think it’s okay to sleep together on a first date?”

  He chuckled. “I think I’d have to say normally, no. But in our case, I think it’d be madness not to.”

  “Oh, good. I was hoping you’d say that. Do you want to come back to the cottage again?”

  “I’d like that, but I’ll have to stop by the hotel first and pick up a change of clothes.”

  She smiled. “And then we’ll go back to the cottage if we make it out of your room?”

  “I can be a gentleman. I don’t have to ravage you just because we’re in my hotel room.”

  “I might have to ravage you, though.”

  He smirked at her but didn’t say anything while the server arrived with their food.

  Chelsea was shocked to see that it was eleven o’clock by the time they were ready to leave. That meant they’d been sitting there for three hours, and she hadn’t noticed the time go by. They’d talked and laughed and told each other stories; they’d talked about wine and people and all kinds of things. She’d enjoyed every minute of the evening, and she was glad that she already knew it wasn’t over yet. They said goodnight to Molly, and Grant opened the door for her. He slid his arm around her shoulders as they stepped out onto the street.

  “Do you want to walk back to the hotel?” asked Grant.

  “I’d love to; it’s a lovely night for a walk, but by the time we got there and came back for the car, it’d be really late before we got to the cottage.”

  “You’re right. Unless you want to stay with me instead? I’ll drop you back at your car in the morning?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  After he dropped Chelsea back at her car, Grant decided to take the long way to work. He’d loved spending most of the weekend with her, but he needed a little time to wrap his head around everything. He needed to figure out what he was going to do. Chelsea had said she’d love him to stay at Zosca and, in a way, that appealed to him very much. He had a nasty feeling that that was motivated by emotion, not business sense. Yes, he could help Zosca. Part of him was excited at the prospect of going in on a permanent basis, not just to turn a company around and point it in the right direction, but to stay with it and ensure that it stayed on course. He knew a larger part of him was more interested in getting to be around Chelsea every day. He couldn’t bank on that feeling lasting though. He couldn’t stake his professional future—or the continued success of Zosca—on him and Chelsea working out. It wouldn’t be right, no matter how much he hoped it could be a huge success.