"Cory? So that's his name?"
"It's what I call him. Believe me, he does not want to ruin your reputation."
He looks at her intently. He leans toward her and kisses her. She puts her arms around him; her body wants to return to that time and place two weeks ago. They continue to kiss.
He pulls away, analyzing her, his hand now holding her face. She smiles, trying to make peace, wanting to continue what they've started. He continues to look at her.
"What are you thinking?" she asks him softly.
He shakes his head slowly, lowering his hand from her face. "You're not telling me something." He's angry again.
She will not betray Cory's secret without his knowledge. She looks away, disappointed. The moment is gone. "Thanks for dinner. The wine was amazing."
"Good night, Dawn."
"Drive carefully." She looks at him. He's not going to kiss her again. She gets out of the car and closes the door of the black Ferrari behind her. He revs the engine and drives off.
Toby drives along a darkened street in Menlo Park. He came close to capitulating, to spending the night with her. But if he had, he's not sure how objective he would have been the next morning about anything, about what matters most in his life.
He pulls up to a lit-up coffee shop and gets out. A jolt of caffeine will be good for the drive back to Sonoma. He returns to the Ferrari carrying a styrofoam cup of black coffee, gets into the car and continues driving along a residential street, working his way toward North 101.
He notices a man in a white T-shirt walking a dog on the sidewalk up ahead, their backs to him. He sees them disappear around the corner, catching a glimpse of the dog's tail under a street lamp. It's a dark, feathery tail held high, and strangely familiar. Now suddenly curious, Toby turns the corner to take a second look at the guy and the dog. He drives at normal speed, not wanting to attract attention to himself, but he takes a hard look as he drives past them.
There is no question, it's the same dog he saw at Trella. And the guy is most certainly the Taster. 'Cory' she called him. Only now, the dog is not wearing a seeing-eye harness, and Cory is not wearing dark glasses. He's walking down the street with his eyes wide open!
Toby is electrified, his instincts are vindicated, but exactly how? Aloud, to himself, he says, "Why is he pretending to be blind?"
He drives back around to Dawn's place and sees lights on inside. He stops the car. He doesn't get out. A little while later he starts the engine again and pulls away, heading for Sonoma.
Chapter Forty-Six
Rob's Apartment. It's after three in the morning and Kelly is lying next to Rob in his bed. The stereo is playing softly, Rob's extensive iPod playlist. She knows he isn't asleep. She feels a little jangled, a little confused.
Earlier they'd gone to Santa Cruz, walked along the cliffs, had some dinner. Then they'd listened to a couple of local bands at a club they sometimes went to. It was good tonight, and she thought Rob had finally shed his dark mood.
But he was quiet on the drive back over the mountains, and drove faster than usual, even for Rob. She was surprised he didn't get a ticket. His driving doesn't make her nervous, she knows he is a racecar-class driver. And he knows those roads.
She sometimes wonders why he didn't become a driver, instead of a mechanic. Would that make a difference in how she feels about him? She isn't sure. But, tonight, the sex was strange, fierce, and his mind was somewhere else. Not like him at all.
She turns on her side and strokes his arm with her hand. Her fingernails are tapered, professionally manicured. She can feel the tension in his muscles. "Robbie, what's been eating you all day?"
He hears her question, he is definitely not asleep. Kelly is so down-to-earth, she deserves honesty from him. He tosses over on his back, sighing, "I'm sorry, Kell. It's not you at all."
"You're really into someone, aren't you?"
Is he that transparent? "Yeah, but it's hopeless. We're not even...involved."
"Wow, you do have it bad. Is she married?"
Kelly would think of that. He can't picture Dawn married to anyone. "No. She's not."
Kelly decides that he needs comforting and, besides, she likes touching him. She rests on one arm and strokes his hair back from his forehead with her other hand.
"I really, really liked this Grand Prix driver I met in Long Beach. Brad. Then, I found out he was married." She sighs. "Not from him, though."
She continues to stroke Rob's dark hair, reflecting. "I was devastated. I mean, he was taking me all kinds of places, spending nights together before the races, telling me trips we were gonna take. Rio, Paris, stuff like that."
Rob looks at her in the dark and smiles. "Kell, race car drivers are a bunch of adrenalin junkies. You do realize that?"
She shrugs her shoulder. "Yeah. At least it's a legal high, though."
They both laugh. They've never talked about their other love interests to each other before.
He pulls her to him, but it's a gesture of friendship, not a prelude to more bed play. She is a very sexy armful, but right now he just wants to hold her. He thinks it's probably for the last time.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The Creamery. Rob and Cory are sitting in a booth with burgers and milkshakes, neither one looks happy.
"I've left two emails, five text messages and three voice mails for her," Cory says, taking a bite of his cheeseburger.
"Probably off with that winemaker."
Cory is startled at the despondence in Rob's voice. "Why do you think so?"
"I worked on his Ferrari at the shop on Friday. I saw him. I didn't talk to him."
"Toby Rovati was down here?"
Rob nods. Cory ponders this. "Well, you're a great mechanic, Rob. He probably heard good things about Hamilton Motorworks."
"Core, there's a couple of great shops in the city. This is a long way to come. Unless you've got other...reasons." The last word comes out as a sigh, unintentionally.
Dawn appears at their table. She looks tired in scruffy jeans and a tee shirt. The way she looks after an all-nighter at the lab.
Rob glances up at her, without a smile.
She doesn't return one either, and slides into the booth next to Cory. "So, I got the twenty-five messages. What's up?"
"Only ten, Dawn." Cory swallows a mouthful of his chocolate milkshake. Dawn orders coffee when the waitress stops by their table.
Cory looks at Dawn, announcing quietly. "I've been asked to do another blind tasting at Trella. This time I would go up against, guess who? Leonard Pillar."
Dawn takes a long sip of the coffee just placed in front of her. She looks at Cory. "That's impressive. Are you going to do it?"
"Do you think it's a good idea? We're all in this together."
She feels both Cory and Rob assessing her and it's putting her a little on edge. "Snoots did really well. Are you worried that he won't a second time?"
"It worked, but I had some luck, too. No one paid attention to my finger ballet, for instance. However, the Two Ravens winemaker said he saw me put my finger in the wine. That freaked me when he mentioned it."
Her expression darkens at the mention of Toby. It's time to tell Cory what she knows. She folds her arms on the table and looks directly at him. "Listen, that winemaker, Toby, is kind of upset."
She has Cory's full attention now. She continues. "He believes he's lost customers because of what you said about his wine at that tasting. It came out in some review in Napa."
"He sounds a little paranoid."
"He thinks we're running some sort of scam."
Cory buries his face in his hands for a moment, then looks at her again. "What did you tell him, Dawn?"
She looks him squarely in the eyes. "Absolutely nothing. But, he's a master winemaker. It was a red flag for him that you were so accurate with the bottled wines, but you couldn't spot a sample that was apparently from a barrel. That's all I know."
"He just told you this out of the blue?"
Dawn glances at Rob who is staring sullenly at his french fries, pushing one around in ketchup. She heaves her shoulders in defeat.
Continuing more defiantly, she tells Cory, "During dinner the topic just came up. My god, winemaking is his business. It's his life. He was feeling bad about that review. He kind of jumped on me and we had a fight. I did not, and would never, disclose our trade secret." Her blue eyes are wide as she looks at Cory. "And you know that. So he left. He got no information from me about Snoots, you, or any of it."
Cory shakes his head. "I can't do the tasting. He'll be there. He's good friends with Joe Trella."
She frowns. "What can he do?"
"Pull off my sunglasses as Exhibit A? Pull off my sneaker as Exhibit B? In front of Leonard Pillar? That's pleasant to contemplate. This event is part of Napa’s annual Auction Wine Country. Just about everyone who matters in the wine world will be there."
She gives him a skeptical look. "Why assume he has any concept of how it works? Anyway, people in the wine business don't behave that way."
"How do you know that?" Rob asks quietly.
She finally looks at Rob in exasperation. "Then don't do it!" She sighs, lowering her head. "I don't care. But, I can't keep spending all this time with wine, wine, wine."
"Nobody's asking you to," Rob mutters, not looking at her.
She looks at him in unmasked irritation. "You have no idea of the shit I'm going through at work." More quietly she adds. "My patent is toast."
"What happened?" Cory is shocked.
"I just came from a conference call with Greg and the patent examiner. Greg has decided that we won't spend the money to defend it against BioBits, based on the claims. They filed something annoyingly similar three months before we filed ours." She sighs deeply.
Cory forgets about wine for a moment. "That's tough, Dawn. I'm really sorry."
Rob lays a twenty dollar bill on the table and gets up.
Dawn looks at him, a little surprised. "You're leaving?"
For a moment their eyes make contact and she is chilled by the sad resignation in his expression. He smiles at her, but the usual flirty warmth is gone.
"I've got to be somewhere." He walks out of the restaurant without another word or look at her.
She lowers her head, holding it in her hands.
Cory drinks his milkshake in silence. The patent news is terrible. And, what does Toby Rovati actually suspect at this point, and what will he do about it?
Dawn finally lifts her head, sighing in resignation. "Dawn the Slut. Go ahead and say it. I've ruined our business."
"That's not what I think."
"It's what Rob thinks."
"I didn't know you cared what Rob thinks."
She stares unhappily at her mug of coffee. "Rob is a prince. I know that."
Cory knows he's treading through fragile terrain with her, the parental ghost of her past. He's going to try anyway, but cautiously. "You know, with the three of us spending so much time together with Blind Tasting, I started thinking maybe you and Rob were sort of,"
"Don't say it, Cory."
He is startled by the tears in her eyes. "What's going on, Dawn?"
When she doesn't respond, he decides to ask a question he's wondered about for a long time. "What is it with these older guys anyway?"
His question catches her off-guard. "I don't know, maybe they're...safe. I know they won't become the center of my life. I can compartmentalize things."
"Does that really make you happy?"
She shakes her head slowly. "I'm incredibly neurotic. That's all."
"Don't be too hard on yourself. I'm not so good at relationships, either."
"Please don't tell me you're moping about Becca. Again."
"I'm not. It's someone else."
She looks up at him. "Oh?"
"You remember I had dinner in Geyserville with Julie Laroche?" Cory clears his throat and drinks more of his milkshake. "Driving me home she got a flat tire and I fixed it. Then we decided to do some stargazing. It was a really clear night."
"Stargazing? Then she knows you can see!"
"She doesn't know."
"But you just said you changed her tire." Dawn stares at him in bafflement.
"Jesus, Dawn. I slept with her and she thinks I'm blind." He looks down, sighing. "It's totally fucked."
"Cory. My god."
The two friends sit in silence.
Dawn looks at him with renewed shock and wonder. "I've always thought you were so down-to-earth, direct. It turns out you're some kind of world-class actor."
He feels a need to defend himself. "No, I'm not. I hate this pretending. I never imagined such a thing would happen that night, but we just connected." He shakes his head. "I really like her, but I have to forget it."
"Why?" The idea that he has feelings for someone other than Becca is rather thrilling news.
"This pretense of blindness is a ticking bomb that is going to blow up in my face. How will she feel when she learns the truth?"
"I don't know, deceived and angry maybe. But it's not inevitable. If she were to understand the whole context."
"She thinks I'm this tragic guy who has an amazing talent, an amazing palate for wine. The person she spent that evening with, the guy she wants, does not exist."
Dawn drinks her coffee, pondering this, while Cory finishes his milkshake.
Finally, she looks him in the eyes. "The person she spent that evening with is an amazing guy and she needs a chance to get to really know him."
"Dawn, I'm on a runaway train and I've got to jump off. I've got to get my life back, my real identity."
She looks at him without knowing how to answer that.
He looks her in the eyes, shaking his head. "Look, don't feel like you have to stay involved with Blind Tasting. I know how important your research is. But, right now the blog is almost paying my mortgage. And, there are all these people out there who trust me, look forward to the next comparisons I write up about wines." Cory looks wistful. "The really fun stuff, though, was training Snoots."
"Sure it was. You're a problem solver. A brilliant one, currently under-employed. The blog might be my only livelihood, too. I'm seriously thinking of quitting the lab."
"That's your life!"
"Biochemistry, genetics, is my life. But how do I know Greg won't abandon the next great idea I spend years working on?"
He looks at her earnestly. "Think it over carefully. I look at myself with this wine blog, wondering if I've painted myself into a corner with no exit. Wondering if this is how entrepreneurs become like Richard."
"Not you, Cory. Curiosity is what drives you, not fear. Don't lose that, and you won't lose your way."
He pulls out his cellphone.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling Julie. To tell her I'll do the tasting."
Dawn arches a mischievous brow at him. "So, exactly how did you stargaze?"
Chapter Forty-Eight
Two Ravens. Toby runs a hand unconsciously through his shaggy dark hair, scanning the information on his laptop, returned hits to a Google query.
Joe called this morning to request one of Toby's wines for an Auction Wine Country blind tasting to be undertaken by Leonard Pillar. Leonard Pillar. Toby is well aware of what a singularly rare event this tasting will be.
Toby plans to give Joe a bottle of the late harvest zinfandel, which is almost ready for bottling. He is confident that Leonard Pillar will appreciate it for its attributes, its Sonoma lineage.
Joe is a real friend and he knows Toby got undeserved negative publicity in that Napa review. Here is a chance to prove himself, defend his honor as a winemaker of merit.
Joe mentioned that the blogger will be participating in the Pillar tast
ing -- that Pillar explicitly wants to do the tasting with him. Cory. That aspect of the tasting is what has Toby at his laptop.
On the drive back to Sonoma last Friday night, Toby had plenty of time to think. He now knows Cory is not blind, and the dog is not a seeing-eye dog. That proves it's a scam. But, why a blind scam?
He remembers Cory touching the wine with his fingers. Was he letting the dog taste the wine? Or smell it? His conversation with Dawn at Trella takes on a new clarity. She mentioned what good noses dogs have. She drew sketches of molecules, for god's sake, explaining why one would appeal to a dog, why one wouldn't.
Their scam requires the scientific chops of a biochemist in some way, that's why she is involved. He's really glad he decided not to confront her after seeing Cory and the dog on the street. She wouldn't have told him a thing, but she would have alerted Cory.
Toby is keeping his knowledge and his theories to himself for now. He doesn't understand how the dog helps Cory identify the wines, but the dog is definitely central to it. What he needs to do is disrupt the channel of communication between dog and man. He's going to expose this phony at the prestigious Auction WIne Country event in front of Leonard Pillar and the wine press. It is exactly what the guy deserves. Toby has formulated a plan and the information now displayed on his laptop is relevant to it.
Victor, Toby's vine manager, comes into the barrel room. Toby asks him to check on the Raptor Hill blocks today because he's got to run an errand that will take a few hours.
The black Ferrari rockets down a country blacktop. Toby is pleased with the work done at J. Hamilton Motorworks, the engine winds out with a smooth, healthy sound. No more ping.
Grapevines give way to straw-colored hills dotted with live oak. He drives into a tiny rural settlement with old farm machinery lying near the road. There is a sign for a pottery studio. He drives past houses with fenced-in chicken yards and pulls up in front of a ramshackle farmhouse with an old oak tree in front.
He gets out of the car and ascends steps to the broad wooden porch of the house. There's an old porch swing at one end. Various wind chimes and crystal baubles flutter in the wind and a sign embellished with curling vines and flowers reads "Clara's Holistic Therapeutics Center". A tabby cat on the porch follows him through the open front door.
Blind Tasting Page 25