Cory's only mission is to not get caught. He forces himself not to systematically glance around at the nearby tables; that's what people who can see do. He disciplines himself to look in Todd's direction, simultaneously following Todd's wine patter while monitoring snatches of conversation in the ambient background, screening for familiar voices.
"I'm moving away from blends at the moment," Todd is explaining between mouthfuls of succulent tarragon-sauced pappardelle, "just looking for really fine plots of vines to work with."
"What kind of grapes?"
"Carignane. For the challenge. It's not a noble grape like this pinot noir, but product from the right old vines can be very interesting, different from what people might expect, if handled properly in the right barrel. I wouldn't touch new oak, for instance."
Should he tell Todd about Snoots' recent identification between a carignane from Priorat in Catalonia and a fairly new release of it from Ruttledger Winery's Mendocino vineyard? Cory wonders whether cane bud was surreptitiously brought over from Spain. Let Todd do his own leg work, or he can read about it on Blind Tasting.
"Cory?"
"Please, sit down!" Todd exclaims, pulling a chair out for Julie who has come up to their table.
"I'm just over there with my aunt who's back from Italy." She points to a thin, elegant woman in her sixties. "I thought I recognized you two," she laughs light-heartedly, while her heart beats faster at the sight of Cory sitting here in the sun.
From his blind sanctuary he takes her in, her light-red hair set off by a stylish dark blue jacket and short skirt. He admires her slender, shapely legs and more tactile memories of them quietly ignite a sudden longing for her.
"Why don't you and your beautiful aunt join us? She's a relation by blood, not marriage, I assume?" continues Todd, multi-tasking his personal agenda.
"We've just settled our bill, actually. How have you been, Cory?"
"Cory? Is that the 'C' in E.C.?" Todd demands, quickly inferring that she is on more familiar footing with this blogger than he himself is.
Cory nods, his anxiety growing now at the little incongruities that are surfacing from his duplicitous posturing in the wine world. He hopes she won't ask about Snoots.
"Hanging in there. What about you?"
She isn't going to tell him the truth, how much she has been thinking of him and that she has been tracking him on his blog, reading and posting comments. "I'm painting a lot these days. Not much wine tasting."
"Are you involved in the upcoming Wine Country Auction?" Todd asks.
"I haven't figured that out yet." She casts an eye toward her aunt.
The aunt has now taken notice of the two men, some young winemaker and Julie's blind fellow. The aunt notes his nice features and thinks it's a shame he lost his sight. He might not be the best match for her niece.
"I think we're going. Wait." Julie makes eye contact with her aunt, who is now walking over to them.
Julie makes brief introductions and Cory feels the older woman's eyes scanning him intently. He knows he's being sized up. No, I'm not nearly worthy of her.
"I've decided to take BART to the city for the afternoon, if you don't mind," she tells Julie in a pleasant tone. "Thank you for the welcome-home lunch, dear. This certainly lived up to my expectations. Even after Italy." With a brief nod toward Cory and Todd she adds, "Enjoy your afternoon."
"So, why not sit a while and try a glass of this pinot noir? I'm going to order another bottle." Todd tells her, after the aunt has departed.
Julie sits down between them, a little closer to Cory, who discreetly checks his watch, not time for Dawn's call yet. Is that Trish over there? No, just a woman with a similar haircut.
They order a second bottle of the pinot noir and the waiter brings a glass for Julie. Cory toasts glasses with her. She tries the wine and smiles, giving her enthusiastic opinion of its virtues. Cory gazes at her in admiration, recalling her witty, informed posts as the Left-Coast Redhead. She apparently doesn't want to reveal herself to him on the blog, so he's not going to bring it up here.
Todd launches into his views on current trends in winemaking, the ones he likes, but especially the ones he doesn't.
"Hey, you." Cory turns his head slowly in the direction of an all-too-familiar voice.
Becca is standing by their table, coltish and beautiful in red jeans, her long hair done in a waist-length French braid.
Todd French stares at her, open-mouthed, marveling how this blind guy can know so many hot women. She obviously likes E.C., the way she's looking at him.
Cory inhales deeply and holds it in silently. He stares straight ahead, feeling a little resentment and a lot of apprehension. It's not unreasonable for him to be wearing sunglasses in the noonday sun, but he doesn't want to have an extended conversation with Becca about anything in front of Julie or Todd. Put the focus on her, she likes that.
"How's iPhlox? Are you traveling these days?"
Becca hears new tones in his voice and instinctively wonders whether the woman sitting at the table has something to do with it. Her eyes dart over Julie's red hair and face, her body.
"We're busy. A lot of stuff is going on. I was in London last week. It's really chill."
To Cory's ear, her description sounds like a teenager's trip to a shopping mall. She seems so young standing here.
Todd now rises from his chair and extends his hand to her. "I'm Todd French and you are?"
"Becca Davies." She directs a sweet smile his way, peripherally watching Cory's reaction to it. Can he really just want her to leave? Becca surveys Julie again with neutral pleasantness.
Julie returns with a cool, even expression. What does this girl want with Cory? A primal competitiveness springs to life within her. Beneath her confident veneer she's scrutinizing Becca for flaws, for weakness, for any useful data. Julie leans a little closer toward Cory, sipping her wine, thinking rapidly of what to say that will make it awkward for this intruder to linger.
When Todd gestures to the only remaining empty seat at the table, Becca comes around and takes it, now sitting directly across from Julie. She continues to pursue Cory. "Are you still doing your experiments with wine?" she asks innocently.
"Don't you read his blog?" Julie asks her.
"Excuse me?"
"Becca's not that into wine," Cory explains, quickly changing topics. "Are you here with Derek?"
Becca shakes her head. "He's in Shenzhen. I came with Raula. We're friends now." She gives him a knowing smile.
"Would Raula like to join us?" Todd offers, enjoying the prospect of a three-to-two ratio of females to males at the table.
"She left already. We were going, but then I saw Cory over here." She leans forward on her graceful arms in her characteristic languorous way. "I'd been thinking about you, and then there you were." She laughs.
Is this the privileged name he allows only to females, Todd wonders, noting the second reference to E.C. as 'Cory'.
"So, are you back in high tech then?" Becca continues, gazing at Cory with radiant admiration, for Julie's benefit.
Julie is appalled by her lack of sensitivity to his blindness. Is she being cruel intentionally?
"Why would he want to change direction now, after all this success?" Julie asks with slightly hostile incredulity.
"Success? It is your experiments, isn't it?" Becca turns up her seduction dial, dazzling Todd, but Cory is too tense to notice.
He realizes he's in immediate danger of being exposed. He should have told Julie everything that night in Sonoma, but he let the chance slip away. If she learns the truth here she'll be humiliated in front of Becca and he'll probably never have another opportunity to explain himself. Why should he get one? Becca is waiting for her answer with brown eyes wide. They all seem to be waiting.
"My experiments were-" His iPhone chirps Dawn's ringtone. He pulls the phone out and immediately answers her. "What's up, Dawn?...Yes, definitely yes. See you in a few."
He sighs in relief, ho
ping it sounds like regret. "I'm going to have to wrap this up, Todd." He pulls his wallet out to settle half the bill, laying four twenties on the table and asking Todd if it's enough, knowing full well it is.
"I'll walk out with you," Becca suggests.
He's about to tell her to stay and have a glass of the wine, then realizes in a panic that she cannot sit here with Julie and Todd after he leaves. Unless he wants Julie to hear everything from Becca.
"Sure, okay." He's got to end this fast. He shakes hands with Todd and gives Julie a fast, but ardent hug that thrills them both.
"I'm really glad I ran into you here," he tells her. "It's a great pinot noir, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," she replies in agony, sensing the moment ebbing away.
He knows what he has to do now. Without hesitation he hooks arms with Becca, their hips brushing as he urges her forward slightly. Contact with her body feels familiar and pleasant, but he still feels the backward pull from another woman's magnetism.
Becca is enjoying her apparent victory and doesn't question his familiarity with her. She leans into him, brushing her head against his cheek, laughing lightly as they depart. "I really love you with a beard!"
Julie watches them, thrashing in her own waves of jealousy. That must be the woman. Did she leave him because of his blindness? Why taunt him now? And what does she still mean to him?
Julie quells her desire to follow them out, it would be a despicable act of weakness. She smiles cordially at Todd and agrees to finish the pinot noir with him. Then she's going home to paint her brains out.
"So tell me about your experiments." Becca looks at him expectantly as they walk through the restaurant toward the front door.
"There isn't much to tell."
"Who is that woman? She's pretty."
"She's a wine master that Todd knows. He's a winemaker."
"Why are you hanging out with all these wine people? You can tell me, Cory." She's becoming increasingly playful with him.
Dawn drives up to the front of the restaurant and sees Cory standing on the sidewalk arm-in-arm with Becca. First shock, then fury, flood her brain. How can he keep doing this to himself? With a sigh she opens the passenger side, trying to keep the raw irritation out of her voice. "Hi! It's a mob scene here isn't it? Sorry, but I'm in kind of a hurry."
Cory walks to the Mini Cooper and releases his arm from Becca. "Listen, good luck with everything. I've got to go."
She leans forward and kisses him just to the side of his mouth, taking her time. "Call me," she whispers invitingly as he gets into the car.
He feels relief only as they pull away from the curb.
"Man, what a stressfest that lunch turned into."
"So, on a scale of one to ten how pissed-off should I be at you?" Dawn asks in a petulant tone.
"It's not what you think at all," he begins. "Jesus, Dawn, I'm just lucky Richard and Trish didn't show up there today. Everyone else did."
"Apparently Becca. You looked damn cozy together."
"She just showed up. In front of Todd French. And Julie from the tasting was there and came over to our table. Do you see the problem?"
She gives a relieved sigh of understanding. "Is your secret still safe?"
"Barely."
"So Becca didn't figure it out?"
He shakes his head.
"Is she still the number-one iPhlox concubine?" Dawn asks hopefully.
Cory shrugs. "Who knows."
Chapter Forty-One
San Francisco. It's a foggy night in the city, but there's a small crackling fire in the living room of Denis Stafford's stately italianate Victorian. The high-ceilinged room displays opulent detail in every furnishing. Museum-quality oil paintings hang from the walls above the expensive oriental antique furniture.
A small gathering of friends, wine masters, is assembled for one of Denis's private wine dinners. The dinner will include opening a number of expensive and complex wines chosen from Denis's personal cellar and paired with courses prepared by Denis himself.
Julie is among this elite foursome. She's wearing narrow black pants and Italian heels and her pearl gray cashmere sweater sets off her red hair, swept up tonight in a French twist. She holds a champagne flute in her hand as Denis fills another glass for Leonard Pillar, the most famous wine critic in the world.
Denis hands a third flute to Saul Miller, friend and fellow wine master from New York City. Saul, a dark-haired epicure in his mid-thirties, projects a sophisticated, no-nonsense air in his black jeans and black crew neck sweater. He is in California for a month to conduct research for his latest book on winemaking and viticulture.
Leonard, dressed in a blue chambray shirt and jeans this evening, tries the wine. It's a lovely prosecco with notes of lemon and honeysuckle. He generally prefers champagnes to proseccos among the sparkling wines, but this one has caught the attention of his palate. Denis is a discerning buyer when he travels.
"You brought this back from your last trip to Treviso?" Leonard inquires.
Denis nods. "Small family operation near Valdobbiadene. Exceptional, though, don't you think?"
"I do. Think I can find any in New York next week?" He grins at Denis good-naturedly, his intelligent gray eyes curious.
Denis laughs. "Frankly, no. But I'll give you directions to the winery. For your next time in Italy. In the Veneto."
"Terrific." Leonard savors more of the wine and then turns to Julie. "By the way, Michel sends his regards. I spent an afternoon at the chateau on my recent trip to Bordeaux."
Julie smiles, but there's a glint of sarcasm in it and it's not aimed at Leonard. "And the new Mrs. Laroche? Does she also send her regards?"
Point taken. Leonard tries again. "What are you up to these days?"
"I'm renting a place on Telegraph Hill. I'm using the spare bedroom for my studio. And, I'm thinking about changing my last name back to 'Prince'.
Denis casts a paternal eye on her. He is a long-time friend of her family. Denis formerly served as a diplomat in France, where he first met Julie's father, Rolland Prince, now retired from the diplomatic corps and well-established as a professor of intellectual history at an Ivy League school back east.
Denis is the one who introduced Julie to Michel Laroche, a brilliant Bordeaux vintner, fifteen years' her senior. Maybe this is why he feels responsible for seeing to her happiness now?
Denis remembers that Julie, as a kid, was precocious, comfortable and well-spoken in the company of adults. He knows she is a strong self-starter, a serious painter, and a woman with an extraordinary palate for wine. At twenty-nine she's among the youngest of the wine masters, having passed the exam a month after she returned to the United States.
She embraced Michel's world of wine after completing her art studies in Paris. She and Michel seemed happy the first couple of years they were married. As happy as the immersive, uncertain and demanding life of undertaking to make great wine in the greatest wine-making region on earth allows one to be.
But the circumstances of her divorce would have been tough on anyone. Michel had a mistress, and when he learned she was expecting their child, it changed the equilibrium of his life with Julie. If there were tears and outrage, Denis never learned of it. Julie gave Michel a hasty divorce, and quietly returned to America to start her life over.
Denis wants to get her reconnected socially in the greater Bay Area. It's fertile ground for an artist and an established wine connoisseur. He looks at Leonard. "Did Julie mention she attended a recent blind tasting up in Napa with me? At Trella."
Leonard's broad, pleasant face lights up with interest. "Napa is abuzz with talk about that Taster guy. What did you think of him?"
"Lenny, I think he's phenomenal." Denis looks at Julie. "Did you learn anything more at that dinner up in Geyserville?"
She hasn't thought about much else these past weeks except her evening with Cory. But she's not going to disclose that here. She keeps her tone casual. "He really doesn't have any formal training
in wine. He has an advanced degree in computer science. But, he dropped out of high tech and started that blog."
Denis smiles. "A real geek, not just a wine geek, huh? Well, he's world class. A nice guy, a little strange. Maybe it's the vision thing." He looks at Leonard. "He's blind. Had a dog with him. And it was pretty unruly for a service dog."
Julie responds to this, with more poignance in her voice than she intended. "I don't think he's been blind for so long. He hinted at that, but it was too painful for him to talk about." She sips the fine Italian prosecco and walks to the fireplace, staring into it. "I had a flat tire after dinner and he fixed it, just feeling his way through it. Imagine."
Denis now believes Julie's evening with the Taster took some form of detour from a pure business occasion between wine professionals. He decides it's best not to probe for the details now.
The foursome are now seated at the table in Denis's dining room. The walls of the room are covered in a cream-and-orange Chinese silk fabric, and the dining table and chairs are a dark, intricately-carved oriental rosewood. Denis is serving the first course: roasted Dungeness crab in a reduction of garlic, butter and orange zest.
With this they are drinking two rieslings, a 2004 Dorsheimer Goldloch from Germany and a 2000 F.X. Pichler Unendlich from Austria. They all agree the Austrian is the real knock-out with its concentrated floral perfumes and spicy notes, its airy texture.
Saul samples the German riesling again, following a bite of the succulent crab. His aquiline features are animated in approval. "I really like the minerals in this. And, it's got a creamy feel, uncommon in Kabinetts."
Leonard nods, "Yeah, it's elegant. Denis, you outdid yourself with this crab."
Denis is pleased, he knows that Leonard is an excellent cook. "What do you think, Julie?" Denis has noticed her staring off in space, barely nibbling at the crab.
"About what?" It's clear his question startled her.
He gestures at his wine glasses, the crab and she smiles warmly. "The pairing is perfect, The two wines take the experience in somewhat different directions."
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