Mitch led Matilda to the compartment that stored the inaugural vintages. He dusted a bottle, exposing the makeshift label that simply said 1984. ‘These are the first of the series to be released.’
Matilda stepped closer and ran her finger along the thirty-three-year-old bottle and the intact, carefully preserved cork in the top. ‘Exquisite.’
He nodded. ‘If you want to market this, you need to taste it.’
She met his gaze, brow arched. ‘I’d be honoured.’
He slipped the bottle from its resting place and held it as he showed her the rest of the supply, the best the vineyard had to offer each and every year for the last thirty-odd years.
Not every wine was meant to be preserved and most not for as long as these vintages. But Dad had trained with the best viticulturists in France before ever planting his first vine here.
He had learnt the exact profiles required that would improve over time. Now was the tipping point where anymore time would diminish from the final product.
When in the tasting room, Mitch took a seat on a high stool at a tall round table. Matilda sat beside him. He placed two polished wine glasses on the table. He uncorked the bottle and let it sit for a while.
‘Great mood lighting,’ she said with a grin.
‘Oh, you like? And what about the aroma?’
‘You should bottle it. I could help you market it.’
He laughed.
‘The high-pitched ringing in my ears from the intense silence is by far the best,’ she said.
‘I’m quite fond of that too.’ He reached for the bottle and turned it around so the bland label faced them. ‘Now, this is a shiraz. You can probably already smell that, right?’
She leant closer and breathed in. ‘It makes my mouth water.’
His focus dropped to her lips, and he quickly glanced away. ‘That’s the tannins. This would have been completely undrinkable after harvest. But over time, these tannins have softened and blended with the sugar and acidity of the grapes creating a fuller flavour.’
‘You just saying that has seriously got my mouth watering again. It’s like a Pavlovian response.’
He chuckled. ‘I know. Mine is too. Our palates think they know what they’re in for, but I assure you, you’ll be surprised.’
‘My stomach is flipping with excitement.’
He grinned at her. ‘That’s how I want customers to feel. I want them to have an understanding of the momentousness of this wine. I want them to be intrigued. I think I’ve managed the wow they’ll get when they drink this—I need you to handle every step up to then.’ He looked around the darkened cellar. ‘I want you to give them this experience, the ritual of it, without them ever having needed to step foot in here.’
Her eyes brightened, widened. ‘It would be my pleasure. And don’t you worry, I’ve got ideas whirring through my mind already.’
‘Dad imported the shiraz vine offcuts from France and planted them here. This varietal has a real backbone in addition to the high tannic content that helps it age well. Overtime, secondary and tertiary flavour profiles have developed.’
‘It’s only shiraz you are releasing?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Riesling too. I have a bottle back at admin we can taste later.’ He shifted their glasses closer and poured two thumbs of wine into them. The colour was a deep red, almost purple, and dark fruity aromas wafted from the glass.
‘Hold your glass,’ he said. ‘And just give it a swirl.’
She gazed at him out the corner of her eyes and smiled bashfully.
‘You don’t have to go overboard or anything like you’re trying to lasso a cow, just a gentle swirl. It helps get more oxygen into the wine.’
‘I thought oxygen is the great enemy of wine?’
‘It’s a frenemy.’
She giggled. ‘How so?’
‘As we speak, it’s allowing the wine to open up—give off its aromas and become smoother. So right now it’s a friend. If we were to leave this overnight—the oxygen would break the wine down rendering it basically undrinkable. A big enemy.’
Matilda lifted the stem and swirled the wine for a while as Mitch did.
He lifted the glass to his nose, closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath—ingesting the aromas of peppers and plums. ‘Your turn,’ he said. ‘You need to ready your tastebuds for what they’re about to drink.’
She brought the glass to her nose and smelled deeply. Her eyes widened and she looked at him. ‘Wow! That is a completely different experience from what we were getting from way back here.’
He smiled. ‘Agreed. Have a sip and just let it sit in your mouth a moment before you swallow it.’
With the glass to her lips, she sipped. She closed her eyes and after a while, her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her shoulders sagged inwards as she literally moaned. ‘Oh my god.’
That pleasured sound moved through his blood, heating it, making it gush through his veins. He watched for a moment as she was lost head deep in the wine—it had ensnared her, and there was no greater gratification for a winemaker than witnessing that exact reaction.
He tipped his own glass to his lips and held the wine on his tongue, eyes closed. Ripe dark fruits, almost chocolatey in flavour, hit each part of his mouth differently. So much texture. Complexity. Completely different to the drink-immediately vintages they produced.
When he opened his eyes, Matilda was watching him, her lips slightly parted. She smiled when their eyes met. He smiled back.
He was enjoying this. Both surprising, exhilarating … frightening.
They finished another small glass of the wine, really discussing the profile so she could easily communicate it in her promotions.
When back at the admin building, Mitch handed the leftover shiraz to Tom for the sales staff to taste—they, too, required an understanding of what they would be selling.
Meanwhile, he showed Matilda around the winery shed—an expansive building that was located beside admin. Inside were two rows of huge metal vats that held hectolitres of fermenting grapes. Behind that were the stores of barrel upon barrel for their oaked wines.
He briefly ran her through the process from the moment the grapes were harvested to where they were now and where they would be when bottling time came.
After that, he led her around the restaurant and the tasting gallery where tourists nearly every day of the week would be bussed in to take a cycling tour of the vineyards, have lunch or dinner in their restaurant or do wine sampling with the vineyard’s sommelier.
‘This operation is enormous,’ Matilda said when they took a seat together in the boardroom. ‘Much bigger than I remember.’
‘We have twelve or so full-time employees. Not including our seasonal workers.’
By lunch, Matilda had been shown all aspects of the vineyard that would influence her ability to make marketing decisions. Walking back to the admin building, he grinned at her, a grin that exuded his confidence in her ability. ‘It’s now up to you.’
She smiled and nodded.
‘We’ve organised an office for you overlooking the vineyards to the back. I hope we’ve set you up with what you need, but any programs or hardware that I’ve not accounted for, please just tell me and I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Thanks, Mitch. I’d like to sit in on one of the sales staff phone pitches. Also one of the cycling tours and wine tastings.’
‘Absolutely. I’ll set that up.’
‘We’re having lunch today in the restaurant too with all the employees. A welcome-to-the-family lunch.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘Then this afternoon, we’ll meet in the boardroom to discuss branding. I really want to get that pinned down as soon as possible, that way you’ll know the direction to go in.’
She rubbed her hands together and grinned. ‘Perfect. I’m ready to get my hands dirty.’
At the end of the long day when Mitch was driving back to his house, he had only proven one thing
: this attraction for Matilda wasn’t fleeting and it certainly wasn’t insignificant.
In nineteen months since Rachel passed away, he had never had the desire to kiss a flesh and blood woman. Today he had wanted to kiss Matilda countless times.
Sure, he had felt arousal in varying degrees while watching a movie or reading a particularly sexy scene in a book but never with a real person.
He never permitted his mind to go there, let alone his body. He remained committed to his marriage, to Rachel.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. He wasn’t ready to feel anything for anyone other than Rachel.
For a little while longer, he wanted to grasp what they had and never let go.
Chapter 5
Matilda had her second consultation with Ellie, the owner of In Bloom, booked for this Saturday morning well before she had known she was going to get a full-time job at the Mathews Family Vineyard.
She had to honour their arrangement.
Besides, Ellie was about her age and seemed like a lot of fun—someone Matilda could see herself becoming friends with.
Not many of Matilda’s old school friends still lived in Alpine Ridge, most of them never returning once moving away to attend university or pursue traineeships in Melbourne.
Ellie was one of the first clients she had seen here in town. Their appointment this morning was just a follow-up to run through all the changes she had implemented to In Bloom’s website and social media sites. As well as a look at the statistical results of some minor promotional campaigns she had run for In Bloom.
But mostly, Matilda was going to show Ellie how to shoot a short ten minute how-to video, edit it, and upload it onto the YouTube channel Matilda had created for her.
Ellie met her at the front door after Matilda knocked. She was tall and curvaceous, with dark hair cut in a blunt line above her brows and a piercing in her nose and just above her lip. Stunningly beautiful, dressed in a tight fitting colourful dress that clung to her hips and full breasts. On video, Ellie could be the next Nigella Lawson of the floristry realm.
For a woman with such amazing talents, she had the potential to earn an additional income stream in the online stratosphere.
‘Hi, Matilda, how are you?’ Ellie asked, gesturing she come inside her shop.
A funky, arty little flower shop with a distinctly Parisian feel in the décor and way she had her flowers billowing from big timber buckets and wheelbarrows and the odd repurposed piece of rusted old equipment.
Matilda had already taken some choice shots to use on her website.
For the first twenty minutes, Matilda discussed all the changes she had made for Ellie and the results being achieved.
‘I’ve noticed an increase in online bookings already,’ Ellie said as they sat side by side at the front counter in front of Matilda’s laptop.
‘Excellent. And you have the capacity to cope with the extra load?’
Ellie nodded. ‘My delivery girl, Janine, has just signed on to become a full-time trainee.’
Matilda smiled. ‘Fantastic. Well, with all of that side of the business covered, how about we make a start on this video.’
Ellie got to her feet. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I know you have done some consulting with Amy next door. We thought we’d help each other shoot our videos. Do you mind if she comes over and sits in with us today?’
‘Not one bit. Kill two birds with one stone.’
‘Exactly what we thought. Seeing as you have a full-time job in the vineyard now, you don’t want to spend all your weekends working. Sam told me all about you coming on board. It’s exciting.’
‘Sam Mathews?’ Matilda asked.
‘Yes. He’s my boyfriend.’
Matilda smiled. ‘Small world. The Mathews brothers are capitalising on the new girls in town.’
Ellie laughed. ‘Or we out-of-towners are taking advantage of the best local stock. It all depends on how you want to look at it.’
‘I like your perspective better.’
Ellie arched a brow. ‘Sam was telling me that you and Mitch used to be a couple?’
Matilda tensed. ‘A long time ago. Yes.’
Ellie leant closer and gave a teasing grin. ‘So you understand the appeal those men have?’
Matilda rubbed the back of her neck. Her cheeks were unusually hot. Yes, she knew more than she would allow herself to admit what appeal Mitch Mathews had—still had. ‘I know a little.’
Ellie laughed again. ‘Give me five seconds. I’ll just run next door to grab Amy.’
It was good to see Mitch’s brothers had found such lovely partners—they deserved to. Even as teenagers, they were always so respectful. Sure, they had their teenage angsty-boy moments but for the most part, they were always friendly with Matilda.
Poor Mitch, though. She could tell from her first week at the vineyard that he was struggling with something. At first, she thought it was her, but she decided that was conceited.
Obviously, he was still learning how to navigate his life after losing his wife. She could imagine it would take a long time to get back to a state resembling normal after something so tragic.
Amy and Ellie stormed in a few moments later, eager grins on their faces.
‘All right, let’s do this,’ Ellie said.
Later that evening, a little after seven, Ellie and Amy pulled up in a taxi outside Matilda’s house. They had invited her out this evening to the local pub. She wasn’t about to say no to a night of drinks and friendly female chatter.
It had been so long since she’d been to a small-town pub and her veins were electric with excitement. It had been so long, too, since she had let her hair down.
‘Oh my god, you look amazing,’ Ellie said. ‘Watch out, local men, Matilda is back in town.’
Matilda laughed as she sank down into the seat beside them. She had wanted to look good tonight because who knew when she might meet that next special someone.
She wore a pale blue pair of designer skinny jeans with shin-high brown leather boots and a strapless pale pink top that she paired with an elbow length white shrug to defend against the cool night air.
The pub was located on the corner up the road from Amy and Ellie’s businesses in the centre of Main Street. It was more modern than she had remembered from her teenager years—polished timber flooring, trendy tables and chairs, low hanging lighting. The owners had obviously done a recent refurbishment.
Chattering groups of people, dressed casually, sat in the leather lounges spread along the length of two walls, while others sat at the various sized tables arranged throughout the big spacious room.
A band was setting up on the stage to the far right of the long timber bar.
She and the girls took a seat at a table designated for four. Matilda purposefully chose a seat facing the doors, which also provided a good view of most of the patronage, so she could watch.
Observing a room was something she enjoyed a lot, especially now that she was on the market. Conspicuously eyeing potential candidates couldn’t do any harm.
‘I’ll get the first round,’ Ellie said, grabbing her purse off the table. She wore bright red lipstick that accentuated her feline green eyes. ‘Cocktails, I think.’
‘Wow, cocktails, this place has certainly moved forward in time,’ Matilda said with a laugh. ‘Nothing but beer and heavy spirits when I was here last.’
Ellie skipped off to the bar leaving Matilda alone with Amy.
‘So how do you like being back so far?’ Amy asked.
‘I’ve been busy, what with moving into my new home and starting a new job, but so far it’s great.’ She was ready to be back here in ways, perhaps, she never had before.
When she was a teenager, it was like she was expected to resent this town. She was expected to get bored and frustrated and move away to the city.
But now, fifteen years later, driving around and seeing the charm the town possessed, witnessing the social connectedness, and breathing in the clea
n pine-scented air, she realised she had stupidly fallen for the propaganda.
She had gone off and pursued someone else’s dream—because it wasn’t hers—very convincingly. Lately, a slight tinge of remorse had leached into her bones for having deviated off course for more than a decade.
‘So you’re from England originally?’ Matilda asked Amy, hearing a definite hint of an accent.
‘London. Moved to Melbourne when I was fourteen. Then to Alpine Ridge nearly two years ago now.’
Matilda leant forward. ‘So maybe I should be asking you how you’re finding it?’ Matilda grew up here. She had defences built in to handle small towns and all that they offered and didn’t offer. But for Amy, a true city girl, it must be quite a change.
‘I miss aspects of the city, but it’s only three hours away. Living here, working at my shop, and staying on the vineyard with Tom …’ she trailed off as a small smile curled her lips. ‘I pinch myself sometimes.’
Matilda’s smile was warm. ‘What made you make the move in the first place?’
Amy’s spine straightened. She shifted in her seat, eyes downcast. ‘I was best friends with Mitch’s wife, Rachel. She had some complications when pregnant. I offered to run her shop until she was back on her feet …’
But she never came home.
Matilda frowned as she nodded.
‘I stuck around to help Mitch out with Sophie. And then I fell head over heels for Tom and the cupcake shop, so I stayed.’
The atmosphere had turned sombre. Matilda was starting to see that she had missed out on a lot of history. Despite hearing the big news and events from her parents over the years, all the little details of individual’s lives were lost.
Matilda’s attention flittered to Ellie as she juggled three mojitos back to the table and plonked them down in front of them. What was her story?
‘Frowns. Oh dear. What have you two been discussing?’ Ellie asked once she’d taken a seat.
Amy managed a strained smile. ‘I was telling Matilda why I moved here.’
Sweet From the Vine Page 5