Page 70 of A Taste of Chardonnay

The group from Gold Crest walked toward the dessert table, and Lainey placed the knife down and made her way to us. She was always loyal. “I got here early,” she said, looking at me, then Laurent. “They have a flashy presentation ready to go.”

“It’s all smoke and mirrors, I’m sure,” Phoebe said. “I know the approach.”

“But it’ll look good to the council if we don’t counter,” I interjected. The mayor wouldn’t even care about the presentation; he would only care about the dollar figures. There was a reason he only showed up at the Town Hall Meetings when it pertained to money. Any other time, he wouldn’t bother.

A sinister smile spread across Laurent’s face. “And that’s exactly why I called you. Do your thing.”

Brady squeezed my shoulder and leaned in, his warm breath brushing against my ear. “Bring on the chaos.”

A confident zing rushed through me, and I straightened, ready to rain hell on these people.

The room filled with the regulars. Odette and her full face of makeup and matching set—this one a dark red wide leg cotton pant with a white flowy top and matching dark red flowers. Albert took another plate of cake to an open seat far away from Odette.

The mayor, with his smug, arrogant strut and ill-fitted suit, walked past the rows of chairs and sat beside the podium, where Craig stood with his little mallet waiting for the top of the hour to start. The room was packed with more people than ever. Many faces I didn’t recognize told me they were hired help for Gold Crest Vineyards.

Craig hit his mallet on the podium and kicked off the meeting.

“There has been a change of plans. Gold Crest Vineyard is here to make a presentation.”

“About that…” I said, interrupting Craig.

“Char-Chardonnay. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“We both know a sign on the door is not going to keep me out, especially when this presentation will have a direct effect on my family’s business and my grandfather’s legacy. Which begs the question… Why weren’t we notified prior?”

“As you know, anyone can make a presentation during a Town Hall Meeting.”

“Yes, but those presentations are always announced ahead of time, so the fact that we had to hear about this through the grapevine, you would see why I’m a little suspicious, especially considering the mayor has come to grace us with his presence. I’m assuming you knew about this ahead of time?” My eyes diverted to the mayor.

He yanked at his too long suit sleeves. “I was personally invited by Gold Crest.”

“Of course you were.”

“If——” Craig’s words faltered when I darted my gaze back to him.

I tilted my head, eyebrow raised. “If what, Craig?”

“If we can just allow the presentation to start, we can answer questions at the end.”

“Great. I’ll have plenty.”

I sat down, crossing my legs, shooting daggers at the mayor. Brady’s hand rested on my knee and gave me a reassuring squeeze. I appreciated his support, but I didn’t need reassurance. I needed blood. Preferably from those at the front.

A Gold Crest representative launched into their pitch——slick, polished and full of bullshit. Promising economic growth and tourism dollars but giving absolutely no consideration to the traffic problems it would create, the influx of strain on our roadways and bridges, nor the ability to accommodate the numbers they were throwing out there as if their new winery would be the greatest thing that ever happened to this town. The resort already created an influx of tourists and added pressure on our resources. Without major overhaul, none of this was feasible.

Laurent countered, stating his concerns about the infrastructure and the disruption it would cause small businesses in the area. All their answers were textbook, and not a single one came from a place of compassion for the town or its people.

Everything we did at Vine Valley Vineyards revolved around the town. Grandpa always said without the town, we would be nobody. We respected that. Honored it.

The presentation wrapped up, and Laurent voiced a few more concerns, but it was time for chaos.

“You treat your winery like a dance club,” I said, standing up and focusing my attention on Gold Crest’s minions. “You’ve had numerous noise complaints. Multiple incidents of drunk drivers being apprehended not far from your premises. You added an outside deck without the proper permits. Meanwhile, Vine Valley Vineyards wanted to add an outside bar, and it took us months of going through the proper channels to get the approvals. Who did you pay off to get that done?”

“Ms. Grasso, please keep this professional,” the mayor said, trying to hide the shock in his voice. He didn’t think I knew about the permits or lack thereof. I wasn’t an idiot. I kept tabs on everyone and everything that could directly affect my family’s business.

I ignored the mayor’s warning. Brady told me to bring the chaos, and I was just getting started. Fire ran through my veins, and I returned my attention to the pompous asses at the front. “Professional? I assure you, mayor, I am the definition of professional. What’s unprofessional is bending the rules for some while the rest of us follow every one to the T. What’s unprofessional is putting the safety of our community at risk because you can’t control your patrons. What’s unprofessional is illegal disposing of wastewater and exceeding production limits of your license. Would you like me to continue? I have a long list.”

Silence fell across the room, tension thick in the air. It didn’t bother me; I thrived on it. The enemy leaned in his chair with a smug smirk on his face I wanted to smack off.

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