Page 59 of Champagne and Daisies

“Like José?” He knew it was a low blow, but he needed her to face facts.

She nodded sadly.

“I’m not picking on him, I’m just making the point that them doing their best isn’t going to save Zosca, let alone help you grow it. But say, for example, you took even just half the money you pay out in bonuses and invested it instead. For example, if you were to buy a new bottling machine, you’d increase efficiency and save time. That would help in a much more real sense. You’d be able to grow and bring more money in. Do you see that?”

She nodded again. “I do, I’m not stupid, but it’s hard. How could I take away half the bonus? What would I tell them?”

“That you’re putting the money to better use, growing the company, ensuring their future. Even you know that halving the bonus would be way easier than telling them they’re out of work because you can’t afford to keep the place going.”

She nodded sadly. “I know you’re right, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Grant closed his eyes for a moment. There was no point pushing it and pushing it, not right now. He’d leave the thought with her, let the reality sink in. He knew she wasn’t stupid; she was just like so many other managers who didn’t want to face harsh realities. She needed time to get used to the idea.

She shrugged and smiled. “Anyway, do you want to go out and walk the vines?”

“I’d love to.”

He followed her outside and up into the fields. He loved to walk the vines. He’d done it so often as a kid with his grandad. It brought him a sense of peace and a sense of purpose at the same time. Chelsea seemed lost in thought, and he took hold of her hand. He wanted to see her smile, but more than that he wanted her to feel hopeful. He wanted her to know that she could make Zosca a success.

She looked up at him with a smile. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

She laughed. “For not going on and on at me, for letting me process it all.”

He nodded. “I don’t need to ram it down your throat. I know that. You need to noodle it all through. In your own time. In the meantime, there is something I’d like to ask you.”

She looked wary again.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing to do with business. At least, not how you run it.”

She relaxed. “Okay, then. What do you want to know?”

“About the name. Why’s it called Zosca? Did you come up with that? What does it mean?”

She laughed. “I did. Dad didn’t like it much to start with, but it’s grown on him, or at least he’s stopped complaining about it—probably because there are so many other things he likes to complain about.”

He gave her a stern look; he was trying to steer her away from dwelling on all of that.

“Sorry, the fun part is what it means.” She chuckled. “It doesn’t actually mean anything. I made it up, even though I didn’t think I did.”

“Huh? I don’t follow.”

She chuckled again. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to name a winery? There must be hundreds of thousands of them, and all the good names are taken. Anything to do with a place or a myth or just about anything you can think of—they’re all being used. Can you think of anything in Napa that isn’t already associated with a wine label? No? Me neither. So, you research what goes into naming a winery, coming up with a label. According to most sources, you need to have something memorable, distinctive, protectable, positive … there’s a whole list of criteria. In the end, I decided to search for some obscure star name—since I liked the image of a shooting star. I trolled through lists and lists, and eventually, I found Zosca.”

Grant smiled. “I like it.”

She laughed. “Other than the fact that it starts with a Z—which is far from ideal from a marketing point of view. Don’t worry, I am aware of that. I got so frustrated that I even considered naming it Aardvark Wines, but someone already snagged that name!”

Grant chuckled. “It might get you first place on any alphabetical listing, but that’s about all that name has going for it.”

“I agree. So, I stuck with Zosca, but then I went back to further research my little star. I wondered if there were any interesting tidbits of information about it that I could incorporate into the brand. But I never could find it again. I must have made it up. The closest I found was a star named Zosma.”

“And you didn’t want to change to that?”

She laughed. “No. For one thing, I don’t like the sound of it as much. And for another, I read somewhere that Zosma means loin cloth!”

Grant laughed with her. “Yeah, probably not the connotation you’re looking for.”

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