Entangled

by Melissa Brayden

  “Nothing concrete. I’m going to spend some time putting my house together. I don’t think I can neglect it any longer. After that, I thought I might wander over to that vineyard down the road from here.”

  “Tangle Valley? Have you taken the winding road that leads to the tasting room that pops you in the head with that scenery? It’s breathtaking. Views for days and the people are so nice. Pete and I checked it out when we first drove into town for my interview with you. Fantastic pinot. Best I’ve had.”

  “I think you just sold me.”

  “Oh, and that lady who pours the wine? She’s Carly Daniel’s mom. Her actual mother.” Carla did a little happy dance. “I love me some Carly Daniel, especially when she’s in peril and racing around with a gun.” Carla demonstrated. “Plus, she’s kickass on that game show. Her partners always win the money. I want her to be my friend.”

  “Well, it’s good to have goals. I do like her films.” Becca slid back into her heels with a smile and offered Carla a high five on her way out of the office. She had more work to do, but she could do it from home where it was infinitely more comfortable. “Get out of here, Cortez. We’re done for the day. But don’t get used to it. Once The Jade is up and running, our lives and schedules will no longer be our own. Better say good-bye to Pete. And hire a few extra new girls.”

  “What?” Carla squeaked.

  Becca laughed. “I’m just kidding.”

  Carla sighed in relief.

  “Kind of.”

  The next morning was chilly but in a really good way. Becca busied herself hanging art around the living room and hallways, doing her best to match themes and colors, and feeling quietly happy with the results. After lunch, she was ready to venture out and knew exactly the place she wanted to hit up first. Not only could she grab a nice glass of wine on a sunny, crisp day, but Tangle Valley, due to its proximity to The Jade, was an ideal neighbor to befriend. Perhaps they could even strike up a partnership that would benefit both businesses. She opened the door to her home and paused. Swinging the door had dislodged a flyer that had been placed in the jamb. She picked up the sheet of light blue paper and frowned at the header in large angry black font. The Jade Hotel is NOT Your Friend. She sighed. Okay, first of all, the sentiment hurt her feelings. Second of all, it irked her because it was entirely untrue, and third, The Jade was a resort, not a hotel. She shook her head, squeezed the flyer into a ball, and returned inside to throw it away. With her spirits taking a definite hit, she needed that cheerful day out more than ever. Who knew? Maybe she’d even meet a new friend at the vineyard, or at the very least, find a nice spot to have a glass of wine on a weekend.

  Minutes later, she pulled her car onto the winding road that eventually led her to the entrance to Tangle Valley Vineyard. She smiled happily at the quaint sign with the swirly font and the tangled vines. As someone in the hospitality industry, she very much appreciated its friendly nature and the way it seemed to greet her with a happy hello. She drove farther onto the property, around a wooded bend and up and over a hill. At the top, she paused. This was what Carla had been referencing. Her breath caught. Laid out in front of her was the money shot, a gorgeous, sweeping view of the property in all its glory. Rows of vines for as far as the eye could see. It was something you’d see in a painting. Becca had always romanticized wine country, and she had to pinch herself now. This was her life. She lived just up the road from this gorgeous stretch of land. She felt herself smiling as she drove on, and then brought her car to a stop in the designated parking lot, just as the quaint signpost had instructed. She passed a wave to a friendly looking couple who were retiring to their car probably after a fun afternoon of tasting. They waved back, a little giggly. Yeah, they’d had a glass or two.

  She followed the same path to the brick building with the impressive vaulted roof. She passed a couple of outdoor heaters and smiled at several groups on a small patio drinking wine. Not far away, a man played a guitar and sang “Hotel California.” She imagined the live music was a weekend feature. Becca made her way inside the tasting room, which was surprisingly modern, yet still came with the heavy feel one would associate with wood, barrels, and industry. The sturdy oak beams across the ceiling contrasted nicely with the marble countertops in a pleasing marriage of new meets old. Becca immediately liked the vibe and feel of the space.

  The room wasn’t crowded, but it definitely felt alive. Conversation reverberated, and laughter carried across the room. The space blossomed with happiness. There was a group of five twentysomethings doing a tasting together, and their boisterous banter signaled that this was perhaps not their first stop. Becca smiled at them, admiring their fun. Aha, one wore a Bride-to-Be sash, which explained it all, including the limo she saw waiting in the parking lot. Down the counter a bit there were two older couples who looked like they were longtime friends. Behind the counter was a woman in her fifties and a young woman, maybe thirty. Wait. Wasn’t that the same woman she’d seen in town? She studied her and yes, definitely. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, but several strands were loose and framed her beautiful face. Becca imagined that was on purpose. She listened in as the woman she had trouble taking her eyes off explained to the bachelorette party what they could expect in their next tasting. When she finished, she turned to Becca.

  “Hello there,” she said with a bright smile. She was pretty, very pretty, and it made Becca pause and gather herself. “Wait. I saw you in town a couple of days ago, right? You dropped your bag near the Nickel?”

  “Yes,” Becca said, pointing at her. “I thought I was the only one who remembered.”

  “Not a chance,” the woman said and put her hand on her hip. “Well, it’s nice to see you again. What can I do for you today? Some wine to take home, a glass to enjoy, or maybe a tasting?”

  Becca swallowed and refocused, finding her normal stride again, even though she’d decided that this woman had a fantastic mouth. “I’d love to do a tasting if you have room.”

  “We always have room.” The woman grabbed a glass. She had blue eyes and they sparkled. She seemed in her element, which probably contributed to her zest. This was someone who liked her job, and it showed. “Then you have come to the right place. I have four varietals for you to try and a sneak peek at our upcoming pinot noir if you’re diehard.”

  Becca smiled. She was captivated in the most pleasant way. “I am.”

  “Time will tell, but that makes you my kind of person. Glad you stopped in today.” The woman grinned, and for a moment they just stared. Wow. What was that? Was Becca imagining the powerful pull or was it real? She swallowed and noticed her cheeks warm. Then it seemed as if the woman remembered herself. She blinked, laughed quietly, and pushed forward. “Here’s a list of what you can expect. We’ll want you prepared.” She slid the sheet of paper listing the wines Becca would be trying over to her so she could follow along. She touched the top entry, leaning slightly but noticeably over the counter and into Becca’s space. Becca caught the scent of her shampoo. Raspberry, maybe? It complemented her personality wonderfully. “We’ll be starting with white today, our pinot gris.” She poured a couple of ounces into Becca’s glass and straightened, hand on the back of her hip again as she waited for Becca to explore the wine.

  “It’s beautiful,” Becca said, holding it up to the light. She was no wine expert but knew a few things. She noticed the edges of the wine, its color, which was deeper than she was used to on a pinot gris. Not nearly as pale.

  The woman gestured to Becca’s glass as if reading her mind. “Pinot gris is most typically a lighter wine. Because we’re in Oregon, you’re going to find this one a little more medium bodied, hence the deeper color. When you taste, you’ll catch some crisp green apple, a little bit of lemon, and pear, too. Our particular pinot gris is very fruit forward with bright acidity.”

  “I’ll catch those flavors, huh? I like that word.”

  “When it comes to wine, I have many words,” the woman said.

  B
ecca sipped and let the flavors wash over her. She took a second one now that her mouth would be used to the acid. She liked the wine. Crisp and refreshing. In fact, she would probably drink a lot of it on a warm day. As she finished the little bit left in her glass, her hostess moved down the bar to see to a couple of new guests. Becca felt the loss. The two men who had arrived smiled at the woman. Of course they did—she was vibrant and beautiful.

  When she returned a few moments later, she held up a bottle of chardonnay, ready to pour. “So, where are you visiting from?”

  “Most recently Orlando, but I move around as needed for my job.”

  “Oh, so you’re in town for business?” She was assumed to be a tourist most likely because the town itself was small and their visitor quotient large. Odds were this woman knew the locals on sight, and Becca wasn’t one of the familiar faces.

  “Yes, but permanently. I’m a new transplant to the area.”

  The woman paused entirely, as if what Becca had just said had changed everything. She stared at her happily. “Well, in that case, welcome. This is very exciting. Joey Wilder,” the woman said and extended her hand.

  Becca accepted it and squeezed. “Becca. Crawford.” Joey’s cheeks flushed pink. That moment they’d shared earlier had been real. Only now that Becca wasn’t just a tourist, it seemed to carry more weight.

  “Well, Becca, are you living in Whisper Wall?”

  She nodded. “I am. Not far from here, actually. We’re neighbors, so I thought I’d check the place out. Say hello. I have to tell you, it’s absolutely stunning out here, and I’ve visited quite a few vineyards.”

  Joey poured the second tasting and set the bottle down. “Isn’t it?” She stared out the window as if drinking in the luscious view for the first time. “You’d think having lived here all my life, I’d be used to it. I’m not.”

  “Really? Your whole life?”

  “Yes. This was my grandfather’s vineyard originally. Then it was my father’s.”

  “Oh, wow. And now?”

  She exhaled. “Mine now, I suppose.” Her eyes darkened momentarily and she pointed at Becca’s glass. “This one is a little more energetic than you would find in a California chardonnay, and that’s because our yearly temperatures are cooler. You’ll taste lots of citrus in this one, sage, and fresh-cut hay with a soft floral finish.”

  “Hay? There’s a flavor comparison for hay?”

  “Oh, Becca, there definitely is.” It was the most casual of sentences, but the way Joey said it made Becca’s stomach muscles tighten pleasantly. That, and her vibrant blue eyes.

  The funny part? Joey wasn’t wrong. Becca tasted actual hay, something she’d never sampled before in her life but knew innately that’s what it was. She didn’t drink a lot of chardonnay, but this one resonated with her, a winner.

  “Be right back.” When Joey drifted away again, Becca’s gaze traveled with her. She watched the way Joey gestured almost elegantly when she spoke about the wine to the two men. She had slender hands and wrists that complemented her beautiful long blond hair. Maybe it was the wine taking effect or the fact that Becca was out of the house, surrounded by so much beauty. Maybe it was Joey herself. Whatever the secret ingredient, it had Becca warm and happy, on a high. Today was turning out to be a really nice one. She’d made an actual friend.

  “Ready for number three?” Joey asked, coming down the bar.

  “I am,” Becca said and slid her glass forward.

  Joey smiled at her as she poured what was now red wine. “You have really pretty eyes, and I’m not embarrassed to tell you that.”

  “Oh.” Becca smiled. “Well, thank you.” The compliment lifted her spirits even more. Were they flirting? It felt like it. “Are you trying to get me to buy wine? Level with me.”

  “Always,” Joey said with a wink. “But in this case, it happens to be true. I also like your jacket.” Becca glanced down. She’d worn jeans, gray booties, a white V-neck top, and her sleek navy leather jacket. She’d chosen it because it was chilly out but not cold. She was grateful now for the decision. Joey raised an appreciative eyebrow. “Looks expensive.”

  “I like to splurge once in a while.”

  “I think it’s good to do so. In this case, most definitely.” Joey placed the glass in front of Becca. “This is the one people show up for. Our crown jewel, and the triple medal winner, our pinot noir.” She held her arms out and shimmied her fingers as if to say ta-da.

  Becca could tell that Joey took a lot of pride in their wine. She wondered more about the story, glancing down at the tasting notes where she found a list of awards including a gold medal from Oregon Wine Fest. “Wow,” Becca said, pointing at the list. “This résumé is impressive.”

  “So is all our wine.”

  Becca lifted and swirled her glass. The saturation of purple was modest, which was typical of a pinot noir, a lighter red. She watched as the legs of the wine ran down the side of the glass, indicating its rich alcohol content. She inhaled and then lowered the glass to let her brain filter the aromas.

  Joey took it from there. “Very fruit forward, more specifically raspberry and strawberry with hints of vanilla and smoke. It finishes with notes of spice and a little cola.”

  “I completely get the hint of smoke,” Becca said with a small shake of her head. She took another sip, further exploring the flavors and finding Joey’s description spot-on. She wasn’t sure whether to be proud of herself for finding the flavors so accurately for the first time in her life or pat the winemaker on the back for nailing it.

  “My compliments to the chef. Or in this case, the winemaker. Spot-on and fantastic.” She admired the glass.

  “My father.”

  “Really? Well, please tell him the wine is delicious.”

  “He’d love you for it, but he passed last month. I appreciate the compliment on his behalf.” Joey smiled through the appearance of loss.

  “Oh no. I’m so sorry.” Becca was floored. She didn’t know what to say. God.

  Joey held up a hand. “No, no, no. You don’t have to be. You’re here. You’re drinking our wine, and it’s a beautiful Saturday in Willamette Valley. My dad would love all of it, so we have to do that for him. I know I am.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. Then I am, too.”

  “Now, I think I’m convinced of your diehard status.”

  “Thank heavens. I was working hard over here.”

  Joey grinned. “How about that sneak peek.” She produced a bottle without a label of any kind from beneath the counter. “We’re not quite to the bottling stage with this vintage yet, but we’re getting closer.”

  “I feel like I just got tickets to a fancy advance screening.”

  Joey poured. “That’s a wonderful way to put it.”

  The newer vintage was much smokier, which had Joey excited. Not as fruity, but every bit as good. She liked the subtle shift and felt that the wines were still similar enough to be identified as from the same vineyard, but different enough to set them apart. Tangle Valley didn’t mess around. “I love it.”

  “Try it again in a few months, and it’ll knock your socks off. “She glanced down. “Are you wearing socks?”

  Becca lifted a bootie.

  “Even your shoes outclass me.”

  “Oh, I disagree.”

  “Well, that’s something,” Joey said, leaning on the bar. This was fun.

  In that moment, the tasting room was hit with the low roar of approaching conversation as a large group appeared. A quick glance behind her told Becca that one of those tour buses she’d passed on occasion had shown up, and Joey and the older woman behind the bar were about to have their hands full. Becca sighed, knowing their moment had likely passed, and she should clear the counter for the new guests. She gestured to the group. “I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Wait. Would you like a glass of something you tried? On the house, of course, to welcome a new neighbor.”

  “Oh,” Becca said, flattered by the offer.
“Sure. I would, uh, love a glass of the pinot noir.”

  “Good choice,” Joey said, swapping out the tasting glass for an overly round red wine glass and pouring a healthy amount for Becca. “Will you come back soon? Say yes.”

  Becca tried not to react to the shiver that brought on. “I definitely will.”

  “Good. Someone’s gotta let you know the ins and outs of this town.”

  “I was actually hoping a person like that might come along.”

  “And here I am. You’re getting luckier by the minute. For example, watch out for the Biddies, unless you want to wind up the hot gossip item for the week. And make sure to grab one of the wine slushies from Williamson Vineyard three miles from here. They also have fantastic produce and a cute Yorkshire terrier who will boss you around while you shop. His name is Ricardo, and he’s harmless but opinionated, so prepare accordingly.”

  “Well, for tidbits like that, I definitely have to come back.” She liked Joey—her spark, and her friendly personality.

  Joey grinned in victory but was enveloped by the large group of arriving guests. Becca quietly raised her glass in thanks and drifted to an outdoor table. She blissfully sipped the pinot as she watched the sun set in a wash of beautiful oranges and pinks over the vine filled hillside. She snuggled into her jacket and enjoyed the late afternoon, sneaking glances through the window at Joey, who smiled, laughed, and lit up the whole room.

  Yes, she hoped to spend lots more time at Tangle Valley.

  * * *

  After one of the more exciting days of work in a while, Joey, on a high, invited Madison and Gabriella for dinner at the Big House. The two of them were still settling into their new homes, and it was the least Joey could do to help ease the transition. Plus, they had a lot of fun together and had quickly picked up a rhythm. While she’d planned to toss a few steaks in the skillet and baked potatoes in the oven, Gabriella had insisted on cooking for them, and when you had a highly rated chef hell-bent on regaling you with their amazing food, you would be an idiot to say no. With the decadent aromas now permeating her kitchen, Joey knew she’d made the right choice. The wafting garlic was the perfect cap off to an already good day.