She shifted in her seat, adjusting the seat belt so she could face him. “If you didn’t want my opinion, you wouldn’t have asked.”
“I don’t recall asking.”
“You phrased ‘volume, not quality’ in a tone of voice that implied a question. That’s asking.”
He glanced at her. “You’re still stubborn.”
“I’m also still right. You might outsell Marcelli Wines four to one, but we get nearly three times as many wins at competitions, and I’m sure I don’t have to remind you about our ratings from the various magazines and critics.”
“No, you don’t. Want to compare gross profits?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Only if you want me to drool in your car.”
“Let’s save that for the puppy.”
They left the freeway and turned onto the road to Ojai. August in California meant sunny days and little rain. In summer much of the state turned brown.
Brenna studied Nic’s strong profile and the competent way he drove.
This was the longest they’d spent in each other’s company in what felt like forever. She was nervous about a lot of things, but also oddly relaxed. Maybe because he’d always been so easy to be around. Because of their differing opinions on everything from wine to politics, they fought all the time. Yet their arguing was never hostile- instead it was more of a hobby they shared. They discussed with plenty of emotion, they called each other names, they even threatened bodily harm-in the best way possible, all without either of them ever really getting mad. At least they used to. Currently, they were only arguing.
She found herself wondering what he’d been doing for the past ten years. Oh, she knew the basics. He’d spent eighteen months in France, exiled by his grandfather, Emilio. Best not to think about that, she told herself. After all, Nic being driven away had pretty much been her fault.
In the end Nic had been vindicated when his grandfather begged him to return to run the family vineyard. Nic had agreed, taking over the day-to-day operations. When Emilio died, Nic inherited everything.
In the past seven or eight years Wild Sea had grown, mostly through acquisition. If a winery went out of business, or someone got tired of the ups and downs of the industry, Nic was there with the best offer to be had. He’d always said he wanted to be the biggest and best. By most standards, he already was.
“Why do you want to bother?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. “You could fall on your butt and end up owing me a million dollars plus interest.”
She’d done her best to forget why she was here. Suddenly it was show time. She considered the question.
“I was a fool to walk away from Marcelli Wines ten years ago. I didn’t realize my heart and soul were buried in the land and that without them I was an empty shell.”
“And here I thought you were happily married.”
She tried to figure out if there was heat or sarcasm in his words, but couldn’t hear either. Maybe it was just a statement.
“I thought I was, too. It was all an illusion. Now I’m back and I can’t believe the difference. I never want to lose the land or the vines again. My grandfather has options he considers a lot more interesting than leaving me in charge, so I’m willing to take the chance. I don’t consider failure possible.”
“Some people would say that’s arrogant.”
“I don’t care what some people say. I know what I’m doing. I have a plan. I’m not afraid to work hard.”
“What are you afraid of?”
She straightened in her seat and stared out the front window. “Interesting question. I guess being stupid. Giving it all up for something that doesn’t matter.”
As soon as the words fell out of her mouth, she wanted to grab them and stuff them back. Of all the idiotic, insensitive, ill-timed things to say, that was it. If she wanted to make sure Nic didn’t loan her the money, she’d just come up with the perfect strategy.
“So we have that in common,” he said, his voice even.
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. “Nic, I-”
“Don’t sweat it,” he said, cutting her off.
“But I really-”
“No, you don’t. I’m not interested in the past. It’s boring. I find the future far more intriguing. Assuming you make it through the first year, then what?”
She didn’t know what to say. There were things she wanted to explain, despite the fact that he obviously didn’t want to listen. Maybe she should just answer the question.
“Buy more grapes, make more wine. By year two I’ll start selling. I know the distributors. I’m not worried about getting into restaurants and stores.”
He was going to say no. She’d just blown the opportunity of a lifetime. Why couldn’t she remember to think before she spoke? It wasn’t hard. She had a functioning brain most of the time.
“I’d want a callable note,” he said.
“What?”
“A callable note. There would be a payment schedule and a reasonable rate of interest. I’ll even hold off two years until you have to start paying me back. But in return the note is callable at any time. You start to stumble, I’m not going to wait for the crash. I’ll call in the note and take everything you have.”
Her mind went blank. One second there were thoughts, the next, nothing. Her hands clenched tight, her legs felt icy cold, and her heart stood still. Then rational thought returned, as did her body temperature. She raised her arms and pressed her hands flat against the roof of the SUV.
“Did you just say you were loaning me the money?” she asked carefully.
“Uh-huh.”
She glanced at him and saw he was smiling. “I can’t believe it.”
“Does that mean I shouldn’t have the papers drawn up in the morning?”
“No. Please. Draw away.”
Brenna started to laugh. She wanted to throw herself at Nic and kiss him. Good sense and a seat belt held her in check. Instead she rolled down the passenger’s-side window and stuck her head out into the hot afternoon.
“I just got a loan for a million dollars!” she yelled to the trees. “I’m going to open a winery!”
Joy flooded her. She was going to get her chance. When she flopped back in her seat, she closed the window, then looked at Nic.
“For real?”
“You already announced it to the world. How could I say no?”
Happiness made her blood bubble like champagne. “I can’t believe it. You actually have a million dollars.”
“I have a whole lot more than that.”
“Show-off.”
“Hey, how about a little gratitude? I’m going out on a limb here.”
She sighed. “I am grateful. You have no idea.” She turned to him. “So why did you say yes?”
“I think you’re a good bet.”
After ten years of Jeff telling her that her life was uninteresting and second-rate when compared with him becoming a doctor and six months of fighting with her grandfather about everything from barrel time to labels, Nic’s words made her glow.
“Yeah?”
“You know what you’re doing. With a little luck and a lot of hard work, you can make your venture a success. I get good return on my investment. It’s a win-win.”
“The first bottle I produce is yours,” she said. “As my way of saying thank you.”
“A measly bottle? You owe me at least a case.”
“All right. A case it is.”
At this point she would have promised him a kidney. He’d given her the means to make her dream come true. Surely that was worth at least an organ or two.
