Page 46 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

My eyes never leave Alex's backside as he secures the barrel. I've become obsessed with him lately, and I just can't get enough. I blink as he straightens abruptly and pulls his phone from his pocket. His eyes widen, and he glances at me, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"I'll be right back," he blurts before rushing out the back door without another word.

I stare after him, wondering what's got him so riled up. He's been fidgety lately, and I'm starting to wonder if he regrets our romantic status. But it's the last thing in the world I want to ask him or even think about, so I avoid the subject like the plague. Instead, I focus on the wine and the barrels in front of me.

In just one hundred and eighty days, we'll have another amazing wine to showcase. I'm absolutely certain it'll be amazing based on the testing we’ve done. I know I'll be chomping at the bit to sample this batch. Which means it's the perfect time to get busy creating another white wine, something a bit drier this time around.

"Sophia!"

I jump as Brennen shouts my name as he rushes into the fermentation room.

"Goddammit, we did it! We fucking did it!" he shouts, jumping with each step as he practically skips across the room.

What the absolute hell?

I stare owlishly at my boss, jaw on the floor, and wonder if he's lost that final marble that has been rolling around in his head. I've never seen him so animated or excited about anything since I've been here. Except for that time at the festival where he was relaxed, Brennen has always been either controlled and distant, or scattered and stressed.

But here he is in front of me, bouncing on the tips of his toes like a little kid in a toy store, the wine box withSophia’s Blendblazoned across the sidecradled under one arm and a large gold medal in his other hand.

"Brennen, what's going on?" To say that he's making me nervous would be an understatement.

"Sophia's Blend is a goddamned sensation—that's what's going on. You did it, Sophia. You fucking did it!" He punches the air, emphasizing each word. "We won first place and best overall white wine in the east." He shoves the medal at me, and I gape at him for a moment before taking a closer look.

I run my finger over the large gold medallion, imprinted with 'First Place' on one side and the event name on the other: The Fieldstone Competition, Atlanta. I blink several times, wondering if I’m hallucinating. This is one of the biggest winecompetitions in the United States, comparable to The Masters in golf. Plus, it’s nearly impossible to have a submission accepted unless the winery is top tier. I have no idea how Brennen got in.

The Celtic Knot Winery isn’t first class. YET. It will be by the time I'm done with it, but we still have some serious work to do.

"Am I reading this right, Brennen? Is thisTHEFieldstone Competition? One of the biggest wine events in the country?"

Beaming, Brennen nods his head vigorously. "Damned right, it is."

I take a step back and grimace. His energy level is almost too much for me. "How the hell did you even get an entry? It usually takes an act of god to even be considered, much less get in, and our wines aren't ready for a competition like this."

"The hell we weren't." He taps the medal in my hand. "We swept the entire fucking field, Sophia. The order list for our new wine is a mile long." He waves his arm in a sweeping motion.

The breath freezes in my throat, and my chest tightens as panic sets in. "Brennen, we don't have enough supply for that. The second batch won't be ready to bottle for another few weeks," I explain slowly as if I'm talking to a toddler.

"Not to worry. You just keep producing, and people will keep buying." He sets the half empty box on the counter. "Besides, scarcity will only drive interest. I'll talk to the marketing agency about setting up a sales campaign. We're gonna have orders out the ass!"

"That's fine as long as they're not ordering the old wines." I wrinkle my nose, imagining people drinking that swill.

"No," he chides as he shakes his head. "We need to clean out that old stock. This is a perfect opportunity."

I cringe at the thought. "As long as no one believes I had any hand in making those older wines."

His brow drops. "They aren't that bad, Sophia. People were buying them." Brennen points toward the tasting room.

I snort, hands going to my hips as my inner wine snob proudly steps forward. "The only people paying good money for the shit we’re currently selling have absolutely no idea what outstanding wine is like. What we have in stock is fucking garbage, which is why you hired me, Brennen. You know I do not want my name connected with that crap. If I had my druthers, I'd haul all those bottles far out to sea and dump them. Or better yet, sell them to a grocery store as cooking wine."

"Whatever." Brennen rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in my drama. "I'll make sure they know you're not responsible for the old stock. But I'm not gonna pass up the opportunity to bring more money in and clear out the supply. You just focus on making more wine. If you need to increase supplies to up production, let me?—"

The outside door slams open and bangs against the wall, making both of us jump.

"Brennen!" a large man in an expensive suit bellows as he strides powerfully into the room, his withering glare on my boss. Alex follows in his wake and stands behind him, his gaze locked on Brennen. I go cold when he doesn't even spare me a glance. This can’t be good.

A tingle moves down my spine, and I know instinctively that something bad is about to happen.

"What the—? Ryan?" Brennen snarls. "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I made it clear that you aren’t welcome here. The winery isn’t any of your business."

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