You Had Me at Merlot

by Lisa Dickenson

  ‘Honey, sometimes I swear you are not single through choice, whatever you might say. So you didn’t have sex with Jamie?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’m going to need something juicier than that, so tell me what you did do.’

  I relived Florence for Laurie, blushing at some memories and sliding into daydreams when I got to other bits, then gave her the scaled-down version of the evening and the morning, which she was having none of, so I was made to retrace my steps and tell her everything.

  Then I went on to what happened with Donna, and I could feel the unpleasantness rising again.

  ‘Those shit-for-brains!’ she exclaimed, indignant on my behalf. ‘And there’s no likelihood that Donna would have read the situation wrong?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. The more I think about it the more it seems blindingly obvious.’

  ‘Well, Arsing McArseburgers.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘I’ll try and get photos of them being corporatey twats at a strip club or something and we’ll get some revenge. Have you told Jamie?’

  ‘Yes.’ I went a bit red again. Sometimes I think my body enjoys dropping me in it.

  ‘What happened? Did you show him your boobies in anger?’

  ‘Not quite.’

  ‘Not quite?’

  ‘Laurie, I nearly had angry sex,’ I whispered. ‘But we stopped before anything really happened.’

  ‘Blow down my giddy aunt and wait right there – I’m going to need some wine and a step-by-step account.’

  I didn’t see Donna for the rest of the day, but I left some snacks and a coffee by her door; I knew she was in there. The afternoon was free, but the last thing I now wanted was to relax somewhere with just my thoughts for comfort, and Laurie was adamant she wasn’t leaving my side in case I did something rash in my state of depression. The only rash thing I’d done so far was nearly have sweaty, primal sex with one of the owners, and it really wouldn’t have been the end of the world if my mood led me to there again.

  ‘Yes! Via Roma, that has to be good, right? I’ll take it.’

  ‘What do I know? I’ve spent almost the whole game in prigione.’ We were sitting outside under the cool branches of a tree, playing the Italian version of Monopoly. Laurie was royally whupping my arse.

  ‘Well, that’s what you get when you stay up all night with a hunky man.’

  ‘Jail?’

  ‘Yep. Times have changed, my girl. Frankly, I expect everyone thinks you’re a harlot now. Speak of the devil: hello, Jamie.’

  ‘Hi, Laurie, how are you?’ he said, coming by the table. I looked up at his sunny face, and at those lips I had been sucking on earlier.

  ‘Hey you,’ I said.

  ‘Ciao yourself.’

  ‘Off work early today?’ As if he really had to stick to anyone’s timetable – he was a free man, working for himself. Lucky.

  ‘I just got a call from my parents; they said they need to speak to me about something. How are you feeling?’

  I excused myself from Laurie, knowing full well she’d be stuffing her pockets with money from the Monopoly bank while I wasn’t looking, and walked a short distance away with Jamie. ‘I’ll be fine. It’s still rubbish, when I stop to think about it, so I’m trying not to – I’d rather worry when I get home. Sorry about earlier; I let the crazy lady out for a while there.’

  ‘No, don’t apologise: that’s what you were feeling, I’m glad you shared it with me. It’s good to be angry when you’re angry, or sad when you’re sad, or drunk and happy when you’re drunk and happy. Besides, I’m Italian; we don’t like to keep our emotions in bottles.’ I think he meant bottled up. ‘You think I want a girlfriend who is a robot?’

  ‘A girlfriend?’

  ‘This morning you agreed to be my wife, now you don’t even want to be a girlfriend?’

  ‘It’s just … I don’t know … girlfriend?’ But I told everyone at home that I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. And besides, wouldn’t it be silly to have a boyfriend who doesn’t even live in my country? ‘That would be a pretty long-distance relationship.’

  ‘Do you see just one nationality here on the You Had Me at Merlot holiday? It can work. It is literally my business to know it can work.’

  ‘I thought your business was wine, and your parents’ was matchmaking?’

  ‘Wow, my girlfriend is such a smarty-pants.’ He put an arm around my back and leant over, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead. ‘I’ll see you in a while, okay? Carry on with your game before Laurie pulls off Italia’s biggest bank heist.’

  I walked back to the table where Laurie was fanning herself with the pretend bank notes. ‘I’m not going to lie: I took money from the bank and I took money from you, because that’s the kind of friend I am. Now, feed my fantasies with the latest on you and the hunk and I might give some of it back.’

  ‘What am I going to do with that money? I’m a jail-bird, I trade in cigarettes.’

  ‘What if I give you my Get out of Jail Free card?’

  ‘Okay. But you have to promise you won’t laugh, or go and blabber this to the ladies at home.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Hmph. I’ll tell you anyway. He was sort of … I don’t know how to describe it … telling me I should be his girlfriend.’ I cringed as I said it, feeling like a total schoolgirl.

  ‘He asked you to be his girlfriend?’

  ‘Not in so many words, but kind of.’

  ‘Hold your horses, ring the alarm, call the Prime Minister: would that mean Ever-Single-Elle has a boyfriend?’

  ‘No, and if you breathe a word to any of the other ladies I will chop your hair off in the night.’

  ‘You don’t like him?’

  ‘I do like him, he’s yummy, but it’s too soon.’

  ‘You did practically dry hump against the wall.’

  ‘Thanks for that, it was a beautiful moment. But since when did nearly doing it – or even actually doing it – immediately equal being boyfriend and girlfriend, Grandma?’

  Laurie boomed with laughter. ‘I like you in the sunshine, blood alcohol levels just always that bit too high, sudden disregard for your job. You have a bit more spice to you.’

  ‘Thank you, I think. It’s good to live my life a bit more, I suppose. Slowly does it. And we’ll see what happens later in the holiday, but no one’s calling me their girlfriend yet. On that note, I’m off for a pee.’

  ‘Do you want me to come?’

  ‘I’ll be okay. I promise not to put my fist through a mirror.’ She looked a little startled that I’d even thought of that, but still let me go off on my own.

  There was no one in the lounge; all of the other guests seemed to be out exploring, having taken themselves off in pairs or small groups, or had gone to their rooms for afternoon naps and to get out of the hot sun. I couldn’t be bothered to trek up to my bedroom, and instead went to the disabled toilet by the staircase.

  I was tinkling away when I heard raised voices through the crack of the open window – unmistakably Jamie, Sebastian and Sofia, arguing in a fluid rush of Italian and English. Crikey, I hoped they couldn’t hear me peeing. I clenched, trying to be as silent as possible.

  After I’d finished I couldn’t stop listening, which was really rude of me, but I couldn’t quite believe I was hearing it right.

  ‘It’s a success: people love You Had Me at Merlot,’ Jamie was insisting. Sofia answered in pleading Italian, but Jamie seemed to be having none of it.

  ‘It’s not giving up—’ Sebastian cut in.

  ‘Si, it is,’ said Jamie.

  There was a huge sigh, then silence for a moment, before Sofia replied and I definitely caught the Italian word for ‘supermarket’. I caught my breath. Was Bella Notte in trouble? Then all three of them began to talk over one another and I strained to make out the snippets of English.

  ‘A couple of months, it’s nothing. Just wait,’ Jamie was saying.

  ‘Perché?’ asked Sebastian. ‘What’
s going to change?’

  ‘Non lo so,’ answered Jamie, who sounded exasperated. ‘Don’t do this.’

  ‘I think we have to.’

  The argument went on for a further five minutes, while I sat helplessly on the toilet, now too self-conscious to get up and flush as they’d know I was there, and that I would have heard them. I waited, pacing the floor of the bathroom, examining my face in close-up in the mirror, wondering if the cubicle was big enough to do doughnuts if you had a wheelchair, and generally trying not to eavesdrop (though I was totally trying to eavesdrop).

  Eventually they stopped, and the sound of three sets of feet passed the toilet and went out the main door. I gave it another thirty seconds, to be safe, then flushed.

  ‘Do you have constipation, or were you crying your eyes out?’ Laurie asked me, quite seriously, when I finally rejoined her outside.

  ‘Neither, I got stuck in the toilet.’

  ‘Like, in the actual bowl? Urgh, go and shower.’

  ‘No, in the toilet cubicle. I heard Jamie and his parents arguing and didn’t want to flush until they left, otherwise they would know I’d heard them, and then they went on and on.’

  ‘What were they arguing about? You? Are you not good enough for their son now you’re an ex-con?’ She motioned at my sad Monopoly piece, still incarcerated.

  ‘I don’t really know what it was about. But I’ll find out.’

  I wondered if Jamie would come and find me to have a vent, like I had him, but when after dinner he still hadn’t shown up back at the main house I rambled down the dusk-covered vineyard to his house.

  When I went in he looked up from a desk full of paperwork, rubbed his eyes and gave me a big, friendly beam, looking genuinely pleased to see my face. ‘Buonasera, Bella, come here.’ He opened his arms and I perched on his lap, feeling like a bit of a twat and having sudden anxiety about having a too-bony bottom. Or too squishy. What hell was this? I wished I’d never sat down.

  ‘What’s all this?’

  ‘Accounts. It’s unbelievably boring.’

  ‘It looks it. Everything okay?’

  ‘Not really,’ he sighed. ‘We had some bad news today.’

  I turned to face him, running my fingers over the soft frown on his forehead. ‘What happened?’

  ‘It’s You Had Me at Merlot. It’s just not doing well enough, not pulling in enough revenue.’

  ‘What does that mean for Bella Notte?’

  ‘It means our last chance has gone. My parents have been in contact with a supermarket abroad.’

  ‘No!’ My heart thudded. This was his worst nightmare. His eyes looked sadly into mine, searching for answers. ‘Could you do more advertising or promotion, or increase your marketing budget?’

  ‘I’m looking at our costings, seeing if there’s anything we can do. Maybe I could hold it off for a month, two at the most, but then you’re getting into autumn and winter, which means much less business for us anyway.’

  ‘Why? It doesn’t have to. You just need a new angle for those seasons. Try to attract the ski crowd for a twin-centre “snow and vino” trip, or maybe you could run courses on making ice wine or something.’

  ‘I’m willing to try anything, and it’s frustrating to see Mamma and Dad want to give up, but before now they were the ones who were trying and putting so much effort into the business, while I was being the stubborn, miserable son, so I don’t think my protests hold much weight.’

  ‘You’ve definitely changed your tune. It’s nice to see you so pro-Merlot.’

  ‘I don’t know. I still think that sometimes the relationships that come from a holiday like this can bring false hope. Maybe they don’t last. Perhaps people change their minds too easily.’ He was choosing his words carefully, looking into the distance, and then he wrapped me up like I was a soft toy and pressed his face against my slightly squished head. ‘That’s why, until now, I stay away from you siren women. But despite my hang-ups, I just don’t want to lose my family business.’

  ‘You won’t. We’ll figure this out. I’m very clever, and remarkably good at all things marketing. Just give me tonight to sleep on it and we’ll have a plan by morning.’

  He smiled, but looked unconvinced. ‘A great day for both of us, yes?’

  ‘There have been parts that haven’t been too bad.’

  ‘Now that’s true. Can we forget about the rest?’

  ‘Gladly.’

  ‘Do you want to stay here again tonight?’ he asked, his question loaded.

  ‘You know I’d like to, but I think I need a little beauty sleep. Lots to recharge, lots to think about.’

  ‘All right. If you get cold in the night you know where to find me.’

  Before dawn had broken in Italy I was sitting up in bed, hair pulled out of my eyes, iPad in one hand and notepad in the other. I was overflowing with ideas to keep You Had Me at Merlot, and ultimately Bella Notte, in business. As for my job, I was trying to push that to the back of my mind. Why give over my holiday time to thinking about them? I would bet a million pounds they weren’t thinking about us when they were on their corporate man-retreats, guffawing at seedy jokes and comparing willies.

  I was nearly spilling over with bitterness, which is why I was trying to keep the lid firmly on.

  Like a child on Christmas Day, I kept looking at the clock to see if it was an acceptable time to go and find Jamie yet. I knew he got up early, but heading over when it was still dark would seem a bit booty-call. And I know it’s not a booty call if you’re said person’s girlfriend, but I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that yet. That musing was in another jar with the lid on, though this one I kept opening and having a peek into.

  Eventually the sky began to ombré to a sunflower yellow and I leapt up, threw on some shorts and my Ciao Bella T-shirt and quietly left the main house. I was halfway down the hill, walking between rows of vines with fat, dewy grapes dangling on both sides, when Enzo came hurtling over to me. He circled me with excitement, stepping on my feet, warm tongue licking my bare legs, hair shedding all over the place. By the time we’d given each other a proper welcome I looked up to see Jamie coming towards me.

  ‘Buongiorno, sunshine! I could definitely get used to your face being the first I see in the morning. Hey, nice T-shirt.’

  ‘Thanks, some sleazy Italian gave it to me.’

  ‘Can I get you a coffee?’

  ‘Do you need to start work?’

  ‘No, that can wait.’ Again I felt a pang of envy – that I’d never felt before this holiday – towards people who are their own boss.

  ‘Then coffee would be perfetto, thank you.’

  I followed him into his house, my eyes drifting to the crumpled sheets on his bed, and the wall that my back had become acquainted with yesterday. I smiled.

  As the kettle boiled, Jamie treated me to a good-morning kiss. His mouth already tasted of espresso, which just made me want mine more.

  ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m feeling good, excited. I have lots to talk to you about, about this place.’

  ‘Do you want to talk any more about your work problem? I’m happy to try and help.’

  ‘No thanks, it’s way easier to push my problems aside than deal with them. Let’s focus on Bella Notte for now, if that’s okay?’

  ‘Okay, if you’re sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ We took our coffees outside where the rising sun could see us, and sat at his bistro table. ‘I have a question.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing. Shit – ask me.’

  ‘Do you mean “shoot”?’

  ‘Oops, yes! Sorry. Go ahead, shoot, ask your question.’

  ‘Right. You can say no, and I don’t for one second want to come across as meddling, but I’ve come up with quite a lot of ideas on how to rev up business for You Had Me at Merlot, and Bella Notte wines as a whole. Do y
ou want to hear them?’

  ‘Absolutely!’

  ‘You’re sure you don’t think I’m sticking my nose in?’

  ‘No, I love your nose. Please, tell me your ideas.’ He leant forward with interest.

  ‘First of all, let’s talk quick wins. Back at the main house are close to thirty people, all with their own lives, their own circles of friends and family, their own contacts lists, their own Facebook friends and Twitter followers, whatever. Imagine if each one of them could spread the word, share a link, send an email to even a hundred people – that’s three thousand more sets of eyes that’ll see this thing called You Had Me At Merlot Holidays. Or that’ll consider ordering some Bella Notte wine. What I want is to have a quick chat to them all, and see what they’d be willing to do to help.’

  ‘I don’t know. They’re on holiday – I don’t feel right asking them to stop and be an advertising campaign for us.’

  ‘That’s why I’m going to ask, not you. Everyone is having a great time, they’re not going to want to see you go under. I need you to allow me to let them know that the company’s in trouble, though. And if they don’t want to help, then so be it. We’ll do it without them.’

  Jamie nodded. ‘So we’d be asking them to tell people it’s good fun, and that they should book?’

  ‘Yes. But first – like first thing this morning – I want you and Laurie to have a quick look at your website, because Laurie is the most amazing photographer and your photos on there are a little … well, they don’t do the winery justice.’

  ‘Hey, I took those photos!’

  ‘Then it makes all your other talents seem that much more special, doesn’t it?’

  Jamie laughed. ‘Understood.’

  ‘Now, how viable is it for you to give away a free bottle of wine with each booking, just for a short period?’

  ‘Absolutely, that would be no problem.’

  ‘Brilliant. We need to act fast to bring in the business before any deals are made with the supermarkets. What I’m thinking is that we say anyone who books within the next two weeks gets sent a free bottle of wine.’

  ‘Consider it done.’

  ‘But if you book within a week you get a free case.’