Page 213 of Steamy Ever After

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Eventually, Brodie picked up the box and carried it to his truck, opened the door, and set it on the passenger seat. “Guess you’ll be stickin’ with me for a while.” He patted the top, then splayed his fingers, as if by doing so, he could take in whatever of Kade’s energy remained in the belongings he’d wanted Peyton to have.

PEYTON

Stave had officially opened fifteen minutes ago, but no one would be in to taste wine this early. Peyton usually arrived around ten and rarely saw customers until one, especially on Mondays. Most tourists left town Sunday night, but she and Alex agreed it was best to stay open on Mondays in case there were stragglers who wanted to order wine before going home. Instead, Stave was closed Tuesday and Wednesday.

When her father had asked her to manage their family’s tasting room shortly after Peyton graduated from college, she expected it to amount to a summer job. Thirteen years later, it had become her life, along with her two boys, Jamison, who was ten, and Finn, who’d celebrated his eighth birthday a week ago.

After graduating from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo with a degree in Agribusiness, Peyton had received several job offers from wineries in Napa Valley, but she preferred the slower pace of the Paso Robles wine region.

Her original plan was to work at the vineyard, but running the adjunct tasting room held more appeal.

After a few months, Peyton had approached her dad with ideas for expansion. Rather than offering wines solely from their family winery, she encouraged him to open it up to all the members of Paso Robles’ Westside Winery Collaborative. The tasting room sales had skyrocketed, as had their profits. When a restaurant in the west end of the village closed its doors and the space became available for lease, Peyton approached her father again, only this time, Alex came with her.

Her dad had raised his hands in surrender after Alex told him the collaborative’s board had also asked her to serve as their marketing manager.

“This is your baby, Peyton. Make sure it thrives. You too, Alex.”

Peyton and Alex renamed what had first been the Wolf Family Vintners Tasting Room, then the Westside Collaborative Tasting Room, to Stave, for the thin, narrow, shaped pieces of wood forming the sides of a cask or barrel. An average barrel had thirty-one staves, the same number of wineries in the collaborative.

Between Alex’s and Peyton’s efforts, the westside wineries’ sales far outpaced those of the other sub-regions.

“You’re here.” Alex stood near the tasting bar with her arms crossed.

“I’m sorry, Alex.”

“Forget it. And forget Brodie and Kade’s bullshit. We have a wine dinner scheduled in a couple of weeks we need to plan. Okay?”

There was a dinner club that met at Stave once a month on a Monday night. It was a locals-only group, many of whom owned restaurants or retail shops in town or one of its neighboring seaside villages. It gave the wineries in the collaborative an opportunity to introduce new wines for the restaurants to consider adding to their lists.

The dinner was prepared by a guest chef in Stave’s kitchen. Each one took a great deal of work, but the commission Stave made on wine sales was worth the effort. Planning started four weeks out and began with a chefs meeting.

“Who’s coming in today, Peyton?”

“Peter Wells from Lark. I’m surprised you forgot.”

“Right. Peter. Damn, that man is hot.”

“Speaking of which, whatever happened with you two?”