by Jen Talty
Weezer interrupted Eliza Jane. “Nonsense. You need to eat. Take a half hour or so and get to know these two. I’ll see you at the winery shortly. You, me, and Malbec can go over some things then.”
Eliza Jane opened her mouth but quickly snapped it shut. Besides, she’d learned not to argue too hard with Weezer. She might as well take this opportunity to get to know Merlot and Chablis, do a little digging into the family history, and figure out the family dynamics before the big dinner in a couple of days. It might also give her some insight into how she should proceed with any future business dealings, contracts, and even simple conversations.
“All right.” She let out a long breath. “I could use a light lunch.”
“Good. I’ll see you in an hour.” Weezer turned on her heel and marched off down the street with her head held high and her combat boots smacking the pavement as if she were being sent off into battle.
“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Merlot said under his breath.
Eliza Jane had no expectations regarding any of the older siblings because she hadn’t heard much about them. The younger ones had a bigger hand in the business, and people she’d worked with had worked with the twins and Zinfandel.
But no one had had any dealings with Merlot, Chablis, or even Riesling.
At least, not that Eliza Jane knew about.
“Actually, I do.” Eliza Jane wouldn’t let a moody man get under her skin. Especially when she already had Malbec to deal with. “But I have a couple of questions for you.”
“Before we grab some sandwiches?” Merlot asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Merlot,” Chablis said under her breath. “Stop being such an asshole. Your problem has nothing to do with Eliza Jane.”
“I’d like to know what your problems are with me.” Eliza Jane tilted her head and smiled. “You don’t even know me, yet you’re very hostile toward me.”
“It’s not you.” Chablis flattened her hand on the table. “It’s our mom and her unwillingness to sell the winery—which some of us believe would be the best all-around.”
“Is that what you believe?” Eliza Jane asked.
“The answer to that question depends.” Chablis didn’t blink.
“On?” Eliza Jane held her breath.
“Whether or not Malbec is willing to give up Napa Valley and come home. And if Merlot and I are willing to help out more than we already are.”
Eliza Jane narrowed her eyes. “Not to sound too selfish, but where does that leave me?” It was starting to sound like she was fucked no matter what the Rivers did with the winery.
“That’s a very good question,” Merlot said. “If we all come back, why do we need you?”
“Why the fuck do you need to be so goddamned mean?” Chablis tossed a napkin at her brother. “There is no need to come in so hot. Mom put her in the middle of this. It’s not her fault.”
“Her is sitting right here.” Eliza Jane waved her hand. “And do you even want to work at The River Winery?”
“I would love to work with my brother.” For the first time, Merlot’s mouth cracked a smile, and his eyes lit up as if he’d just seen the most beautiful sunrise known to man. “That is if he wants to come back. But if this is a part-time thing, then I want to sell. I’m tired of the bullshit. So, to answer your question, yes, I want the winery. But if, and only if, my family is all there. And to be totally frank, that means you can take a hike.”
“Well, at least I know where I stand in your eyes.” Eliza Jane rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Does the rest of the family feel the same way?” She got the impression that the twins and Zinfandel might have different opinions. Even Carter seemed to enjoy having Eliza Jane around, but she couldn’t be sure.
“This is a complicated family, and so much is up in the air that most of us are unsure of what to think of you,” Chablis said. “I know my parents seem to really respect you, and I personally don’t see the need to send you packing. I think Merlot is speaking out of emotional frustration with our family. There are some things you don’t know about. That even we don’t understand when it comes to my mom and—”
“The secret.” Eliza Jane closed her eyes for a brief second. Malbec was going to kill her, but this was her future she was fighting for. She wasn’t about to lay down and let someone take it away.
Chablis gasped.
Merlot’s jaw gaped. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”
“I know some dark secret drove Malbec away, and that’s why he refused to come home and run the winery.”
“Are you and my brother screwing?” Chablis asked. “Because the whole town seems to think you are, and he wouldn’t tell anyone that unless he was drunk or in bed with them.”
“Just because Faith, the tarot card reader, had some weird vision and told Mom doesn’t mean it’s true,” Merlot said. “Besides our brother wouldn’t ever become involved with anyone working at the winery again.”
Again?
That was something Eliza Jane would have to discover later.
“No. I’m not sleeping with Malbec,” Eliza Jane said with an annoyed tone. She rubbed her temple. “But I don’t want your family selling the winery to some big corporation. That wouldn’t be good for me. And, frankly, it would be a horrible decision for your family heritage.”
“At least you’re honest about that,” Merlot said.
“I try to be as truthful as I can about most things,” she admitted. “It’s best for me if your family doesn’t sell, but it’s also best if I get to run it with Malbec having a minimal hand in it while he’s still working in Napa Valley.”
Merlot frowned. “That’s not what we want. It’s only putting off the inevitable. If Malbec doesn’t come back in a permanent role now, we’ll just have to sell this place later when our folks are too old to really take care of it.”
“My brother is right. We feel like we’re in a now-or-never situation,” Chablis said. “This isn’t personal. It’s business. And we know our younger siblings see what they believe is the best of both worlds, but we’re worried about the toll this is taking on our folks. They aren’t getting any younger.”
“Have you talked to Malbec? I mean, really had a sit-down with him about all of this?” Eliza Jane swallowed the thick lump in her throat. Battling one River was one thing.
Battling the entire clan? That was something entirely different.
“Not in detail, but we plan on it,” Merlot said. “He’s either coming home, or we’re selling. There is no in-between. It’s just that simple.”
No. It wasn’t. But Eliza Jane wouldn’t argue the point just yet.
She would get that contract and then force Weezer’s hand before the family gathering.
If not, she was leaving Candlewood Falls.
For good.
10
Malbec
Malbec finished ringing up a local customer who’d purchased a wine-tasting package for their bridal party. It seemed the news of a new winemaker had made it around the neighboring towns, and people were coming to check it out and buy more wine.
While it was a bruise to Malbec’s ego, he had to admit, he was happy about the traffic coming into the building.
And even more so with the new personal touches that Eliza Jane had added to the gift shop and the wine-tasting room. It was the little details that made the difference. The place cards with their fun facts or the ribbons around the boxsets of wine that they hadn’t done in the past.
It amazed him that she’d only been there a few days, and yet, she’d managed to make enough simple changes to make the space feel more like home.
The bell over the door rang as his mother breezed through with a big smile plastered on her face. “Good afternoon.” She held up a big bag. “Your father made his famous fried chicken, and I happened to slave over some mac and cheese last night, which I reheated before I left. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving.” His stomach growled. “Tammy, mind looking after the
store while we go up to the office?”
“Not at all, Mr. River.” Tammy, one of the girls that had been working at the winery for a good decade, said.
Malbec followed his mother up the old wooden stairs. As a kid, he used to love sitting at his mother’s feet, chomping on some fresh grapes as he watched her work. He’d learned so much from coming to the winery with her as a small boy. He remembered having to beg and plead to be allowed to spend any of his free time there, even giving up going to activities with his siblings or other friends just so he could learn more about how to make the best wine in the world.
He cherished those memories.
Once inside the unchanged office, he found the card table and unfolded it while his mother took out a tablecloth.
Another tradition when he entered high school and worked the summers side by side with his mom.
His father would bring over homemade lunch, along with the rest of the kids, and they’d have a family picnic. It wasn’t every day, but it was often. Malbec missed those moments. It was something he wanted if he were to ever have a family of his own.
However, at thirty-eight, he wasn’t getting any younger. And the older he got, the pickier he became. A vision of Eliza Jane jumped into his mind. Actually, she’d always been there—from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the attraction.
It wasn’t the physical part that concerned him because he knew that would fade. He’d been attracted to beautiful women before who wanted nothing to do with him. Rejection was all part of the dating game.
It was her intellect and her humanity that made him want to know her on a deep, emotional level. And that was terrifying. He had no idea he had that many levels.
“Here. Let me help, Mom.” He took the big plastic container and opened it. The smell of his father’s breading seeped out into his nostrils and made his mouth water. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
His mother laughed. “This is why I married your dad.”
“Then why did you divorce him?” Malbec paused and stared at his mom. That was not a question anyone ever said out loud. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“No. It’s a legit inquiry, and no one has dared to ask in a long time.” She took her seat, waved a napkin, and placed it in her lap before folding her hands and resting her elbows on the table. “It was in part because of the secret.”
“The one that you were supposed to tell me when I was ready to take over the winery?”
She nodded.
“Are you going to tell me now?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?” He joined his mother at the table, opening the mac and cheese and plopping a heaving spoonful onto his plate. It was warm and gooey, just the way he liked it, and it gave him something to enjoy and savor instead of dealing with the frustration of his family’s legacy.
“Because it would destroy the man you are, and I won’t be responsible for doing what my grandfather did to my father, and what they both did to my husband and me—and, indirectly, my kids. It has torn us apart enough, and I’ve decided to let that damn dirty little secret stay buried with them.”
Malbec wanted to be able to let it go. He should. However, it had been a thorn in his side for so long, he wasn’t sure it was possible. “It was so important to Grandpa that it always be protected. And he believed the only way to do that was to have the main owner have the knowledge and power.” He waved a piece of fried chicken. “I struggle to understand what that means. And the fact that it’s been a wedge between us for over a decade, it’s going to be hard for me to just drop it. I mean, I told you just a year ago that, under no circumstances would I ever consider running The River Winery until you told me.”
“I know,” his mother said. “And that’s my fault because I’m the one who made it a big deal.”
“So did Grandpa.”
She laughed. “He could be so freaking dramatic when he wanted to be. And let’s not forget, I was barely an adult when my father turned this place over to me. Your dad was in law school, and I was still a scared kid. Your grandpa had a lot of pull and used that secret to control me. I didn’t want to do that to you, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to let that old coot do it either.”
“Is that why you almost never let us be alone with Grandpa?” Malbec always thought it weird that if his grandfather wanted to take him on a fishing trip or something, his father would take time off work and go with them. Malbec rarely spent any time alone with his grandfather. And whenever he did, his mother would take her father aside and wave a finger under his nose. And when he got home, she always grilled Malbec on what kinds of conversations he and his grandpa had, to the point where Malbec didn’t even want to go anywhere with his grandfather anymore. And not just because of the way his mom was, but because his grandpa would get weird, as well.
“That wasn’t until you were about fourteen, and my dad wanted to tell you the truth.”
Malbec coughed. “Why, when I was so young?”
“To control your actions. And I never wanted to do that.”
He laughed. “You do realize that’s funny coming from you, right?”
“I’m not as manipulative as you think I am, and my reasons were always to protect you, not to force you to do what I wanted—which is what my father did. I believe those are two different things.”
“Maybe so, but you pushed me away because of it.”
“I did.” At least she was admitting it now.
“Why?” If she wasn’t going to tell him the secret, he needed a really good explanation. Better than half the excuses she’d given over the years, which weren’t much of anything. Most of the time, she’d tell him that it was none of his business. Or that he didn’t need to know to run the winery. Or that when she’d leave him a note to read when she was dead and gone.
That one had been his favorite, because knowing Weezer, she would leave him a note telling him that he was better off not knowing.
That would be the ultimate screw-over.
“I thought I was protecting you from the kind of pain I have in my heart. I’m still doing that. And as a mother, I’ll never stop.” She dropped a piece of half-eaten chicken to her plate and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Honestly, what haunted my father and grandfather doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is what we do moving forward. I’m taking that secret to the grave and letting it die with me.”
His mother could talk in circles for hours, and he didn’t have the time. He planned to meet Chablis, Riesling, and Merlot for drinks at five, and then Eliza Jane for dinner. He glanced at his watch. He was shocked that Eliza Jane wasn’t at the winery already. He knew she’d had a big day at the spa, on his mom, but that was hours ago.
“Is this stupid secret going to be a deal-breaker?” His mother took her chicken bone and tossed it into the trash along with her paper plate.
He followed suit. “I haven’t agreed to anything.” Oh, shit. This wouldn’t go over well. He’d have to downplay it. “However, I am considering having a bigger presence and potentially coming back full-time at some point.”
His mother jumped to her feet. “Oh. Malbec. That makes me so happy.”
“I haven’t made up my mind, and I do need you to do something for me.” He stood, holding his mother by the forearms.
“Anything, if it means you’re coming home.”
Far from it. “Taubet Liquors wants a meeting.”
“No. No. A big fat no. How does that equate to you and Eliza Jane running this place together?”
He arched a brow. His mother hadn’t taken into account Merlot and Chablis, who, based on their texts this morning, would be around a lot more if Malbec moved home.
That said, they were also pushing to sell, especially Merlot. He could use the money. He was tired of dealing with the long hours during harvest and the family drama. And Malbec didn’t blame him.
“It doesn’t, but like I said, I haven’t made a decision one wa
y or the other, and I think you should at least hear what they have to say. You can always say you’re not interested.”
“I’m saying it now.” His mother packed up the extra food and tossed it into the bag with more force than necessary. “Why waste their time and mine?”
“Because they will be here on Monday.”
His mother glared. “That’s in four days. You’d better cancel it before it’s too late.”
“I already confirmed it this morning.”
“Talk about underhanded,” his mother mumbled.
“Like mother, like son.”
“I have half a mind to take you over my knee.” She plopped herself back into the office chair. “I brought you into this world. Don’t think I won’t take you out of it.”
“You love me too much to do that.”
“Don’t press your luck, kid.” She pulled open one of the drawers. “I wasn’t going to do this until Monday, but since you just gave me a really big pill to swallow, turnabout is fair play.” She shoved an envelope under his nose.
He leaned against the desk. “What’s this?”
“Eliza Jane’s employment contract.”
“Why does she need one at this juncture?” He pinched the medal tabs, easing out the papers inside. It wasn’t a very thick contract, and the first thing Malbec noticed was that his father had drawn up the papers. “I thought she was going to be an employee, not a contract-worker for the time being.”
“Part of this is for the line of wines she wants to create with her name and any new wine she might develop with our label.”
“I’m aware of that.” He scanned the words on the page. It all seemed standard until he got to the part where his mother had offered a percentage of not only profits but also ownership. Granted, Eliza Jane had mentioned that, but he hadn’t expected his mother to so easily give up a piece of the pie.
And that could potentially happen before he or his siblings ever owned a stake in the family business.
Quickly, he flipped to the next section where he read a passage stating that when he and his brothers and sisters took full ownership, the provision for Eliza Jane could not be undone. She would be named in the will. He read it two more times.