Page 9 of Vineyard Dreams

Elle watched Harper approach her front door through the window. Her fingers raked through her hair as memories of last night’s internet search flooded back. Awards show clips, red carpet interviews, that powerful Oscar acceptance speech about Lena Matthews.

The reality of who Harper was hit Elle with fresh impact. Not just some actress taking a break, but an Oscar winner at the height of her career. The kind of person who graced magazine covers and commanded rooms full of Hollywood elite.

The doorbell chimed, and Elle made her way to the front door, trying to shake off this new awareness. It was ridiculous. Harper was still the same person who she’d shared a glass of wine with the other evening, who’d shared genuine vulnerability about her father’s vineyard.

And yet... Elle couldn’t quite forget the image of Harper in that white dress, clutching her Oscar, commanding the attention of millions. The contrast between that woman and the one standing on her porch in worn jeans was striking.

Elle reached for the door handle, her usual confidence wavering. She’d texted Harper this morning offering to show her around, expecting maybe a response later in the week. Instead, Harper had immediately asked if today worked. Now here she was, and Elle’s usual self-assurance had vanished.

Elle took a steadying breath before opening the door. “Harper, hi.” She managed to keep her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.

“Hey. Thanks for doing this.” Harper’s smile lit up her face. “For taking time out of your day.”

“Of course.” Elle grabbed the keys to her truck. “Will we start the tour?”

She couldn’t understand why she felt so off-balance. They’d already spent time together at Harper’s vineyard. Yet something had shifted, leaving Elle feeling strangely nervous around this woman she’d been perfectly comfortable with just days ago.

“Let’s go,” Harper said, and Elle locked the door behind her, willing herself to get it together as she hopped into her truck and Harper opened the passenger’s door.

Elle reversed and drove down the windy road that led to her vineyard.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Elle said softly, following Harper’s gaze out across the rows of grapevines and the backdrop of rolling hills.

“It’s even more breathtaking than I remembered.”

Elle felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as they approached the main buildings, Elle glanced sideways at Harper, who was taking it all in.

“Welcome to Cherry Lane Vineyards,” Elle announced, pulling the truck to a stop in front of the tasting room. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour,” she said as they got out of the truck.

Elle guided Harper through the vineyards, indicating the various types of grapes and detailing her eco-friendly cultivation methods. Harper listened intently, her gaze never wavering from Elle’s face.

The tasting room’s heavy oak door creaked open to reveal polished wooden counters and walls lined with bottles, each one carefully positioned to catch the light just so. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting a warm glow across the hand-crafted furniture Elle had commissioned from local artisans years ago. The familiar scent of oak and wine welcomed them.

“This is beautiful,” Harper said, running her fingers along the smooth counter.

“Wait until you see the rest.” Elle led her through to the processing area, where steel tanks stretched toward the ceiling. The space held the lingering scent of last season’s harvest - notes of fermented fruit and oak.

Elle watched Harper, entranced by the way the actress seemed to absorb every detail. The easy rapport they’d developed at Harper’s vineyard still lingered, and Elle’s nerves finally settled.

Elle cleared her throat, breaking the spell. “Shall we try a few wines?”

“I’d love to.”

Elle led Harper back to the tasting room, gesturing for her to take a seat at the polished oak bar. She moved behind the counter, selecting a few bottles from the racks.

She handed a glass to Harper, their fingers brushing briefly. Elle felt a spark of electricity at the contact, and she quickly withdrew her hand.

She poured a deep red into the next set of glasses. “This is our Pinot Noir. It’s my personal favorite. We use grapes from the oldest block of the vineyard.”

Harper took a sip, closing her eyes as she savored it. “Wow. That’s incredible. The complexity, the depth of flavor...”

Elle found herself staring at Harper’s lips, stained a deeper red by the wine. She quickly looked away, focusing on pouring the next sample.

They worked their way through the lineup, Harper offering insightful comments on each one. Elle was impressed by her palate. For someone who claimed not to know much about wine, she had a keen sense of the nuances in each glass.

Elle reached beneath the counter and pulled out an old brass key. “I have one last thing to show you.” She gestured toward a heavy wooden door at the far end of the tasting room. “Our wine cellar.”

The key turned with a satisfying click, and Elle pushed open the door to reveal worn stone steps descending into darkness. She flipped a switch, and warm light flooded the stairwell.

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