Page 40 of Sweet Escape

Following Memphis’s path, I step out onto the patio, grinning when I spot him. He’s standing in a corner near a path that leads out into the vines, next to a small sign that readsVineyard Tours. A cute young couple is with him, and he chats casually with them as he waits.

Then he sees me, and I know I don’t imagine it when he seems to stand up a bit straighter.

Sometimes, I like to pretend that other people imagine me walking toward them in slow motion, and this is one of those moments.

I’m wearing a cute skirt, a short sleeve turtleneck, and a pair of boots that will be perfect for walking along the mulchy pathway through the vineyard. The outfit says “I want it to be autumn, but it’s not cool enough yet.” And I can see clearly in my mind’s eye what Memphis sees as I stride toward him.

Tenacity.

“This the vineyard tour?” I ask, smiling at the three of them as I come to a stop.

“It is,” Memphis answers, his eyes narrowed slightly even though a smile still sits on his face. “Unfortunately, the tour is fully booked today.”

“Oh, I have a ticket. Let me just ...” I look down at my phone and click into my email, then hold up my confirmation. “Here it is. My family isn’t able to come, though. Which is such a bummer!”

“Your . . . family.”

I nod. “Yeah, there was supposed to be eight of us. We reserved tickets and everything, but wires got crossed, and Uncle Bob ended up booking everyone spa treatments.” I shake my head. “They’re all over at some bougie place in Sonoma, but I didn’t want to miss this tour, so I decided to still come.”

“Uncle Bob, huh?” Memphis crosses his arms, a smirk playing at his lips. “Well, how fortunate for us that you’ve decided to ... grace us with your presence.”

I give him an obnoxious smile and tuck my phone back into my purse.

“I guess this is going to be our group, then,” he continues, eyeing the other couple before returning his gaze to mine. “Let’s go ahead and get started.”

Chapter Nine

Memphis

“We house our wine in a few different vats, depending on the kind of qualities we want a particular wine to have.”

I turn, gesturing to the more than three hundred oak barrels stacked on top of each other in our wine cellar.

“Our most common are the oak barrels you see here. These are key in developing some of the more pungent flavors and aromas that winemakers discuss when they’re sharing about their wines. You’ll hear wines described as having hints of vanilla or cinnamon, hazelnut and tobacco, among other things. And all of that has to do with the type of wood that makes up the barrel, and how it was toasted during its manufacturing.”

The couple on the tour—Max and Jolie—wander down one aisle scanning the oak barrels as I continue to share.

“We primarily use the barrels for our red wines, making up about seventy-five percent of the grapes we produce—merlot, cabernet sauvignon, and pinot noir. However, if you look to the other end of the cellar, you’ll see we also have about fifteen stainless steel vats that we use for our whites—those are the chardonnay and pinot grigio.”

I go on to explain the differences between the barrels and the steel vats, how many bottles of wine each can produce, and why we usedifferent storage techniques for different varieties. It’s my favorite part of the tour, and something I can recite in my sleep.

But I don’t care how well you know something—having an attractive woman flirting with you while you’re trying to provide information is incredibly distracting.

Vivian’s not doing anything overtly outrageous as we take the tour. In fact, she seems genuinely interested in the information I’m providing. She has asked a few really insightful questions, too.

Doesn’t mean I’m not hyperaware of her presence.

“Why are the stainless-steel vats so big and the barrels so much smaller?” Jolie asks.

“Great question. We want the red wine to be influenced by the barrels—grabbing those aromas and flavors I mentioned. And the more surface area a barrel has, the more liquid is touching that wood, resulting in either a faster absorption in a smaller amount of time, or a denser absorption over a longer amount of time.”

Jolie nods, then turns and says something to Max.

I give them a few minutes to wander around, and as the couple turn down a new aisle, Vivian steps up to my side.

“I love winery tours,” she says, gazing around the room. “Each winery does a lot of things exactly the same, but still, each vintage is completely unique.”

I chuckle. “That’s the magic and the downfall of winemaking. It’s nearly impossible to create the same thing more than once even if you have almost identical circumstances. Because no matter what,somethingis always different. The weather, the soil, the new barrels ...”

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