The Case of the Voracious Vintner

by Tara Lain

  “Only my responsibilities, dear. A mother’s job never ends.”

  Gripping the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “Who is she?”

  Bettina snorted a very unladylike sound.

  His mother seemed to be reading the dregs in her wineglass, had there been any. Bo turned to Blanche, his closest ally in the family, though not the world’s most functional human. “You’ll tell me.”

  Blanche shared her sweet, slightly vacant smile. “Well, dear, she’s a lovely lady, although she is a Californian. You know how they are.”

  “Do I?”

  She waved a hand. “Somewhat—liberal.”

  His mother pressed a hand to her own chest. “Blanche, what a terrible thing to say. She’s a charming young woman of great accomplishment. A bit modern for my taste, but you don’t seem to like old-fashioned girls, so we believe Sage will be a perfect choice.”

  “Sage?”

  “Yes, isn’t it unique?” His mother smiled.

  “Positively spicy.”

  Another snort from Bettina didn’t improve his mood. Bo said, “Where’d y’all dig this one up?”

  His mother crossed her arms over her still decorative chest—at almost sixty his mother was still a beauty, if a very round one. “We do not ‘dig them up.’ Sage is new to the central coast.”

  Blanche said, “She took a job doing PR for one of the wineries.”

  “Which one?”

  Blanche shrugged. “I’m not sure she said. If she did, I didn’t hear it.”

  Oh well. A couple of dates with some new woman would give him cover for another several months. Maybe by that time, he could get somewhere with Jeremy. Yes, and what in the Lord’s mercy will I do then? Good gods and little fishes, that made his stomach turn.

  He wasn’t really a coward. Hell, he’d broken away from everything he knew to come to California and brave one of the toughest businesses around. He’d fully planned to come out and live his own life. His father’s death at fifty-six not only curtailed Bo’s youth, it dressed him in his father’s skin, and he’d been wearing it ever since—like a fucking zombie. Suddenly his “dream job” had become a frivolous pursuit that didn’t provide a lavish lifestyle for supporting his new dependents. Still, he did well enough to get by comfortably. On a long breath, he said, “I’ll look forward to meeting her.”

  “Excellent. She’s coming to dinner day after tomorrow night.” His mother smiled beatifically.

  Of course she is. Leaving his wineglass half-full, he stood. “I have some paperwork to complete, if you’ll excuse me.” He stepped over and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Good night, ladies.”

  As he walked toward the hall that led to his bedroom—aka sanctuary—Bettina called after him.

  “Oh, Bo, I remembered who Sage said she worked for. Ottersen. I recall because I love those little animals.”

  Bo nodded and tried to keep his face neutral. Animal was right. But the less he worried his family with the problems of the winery, the more peace he had. Still, her place of employment could mean he was looking forward to meeting this woman called Sage even less—or maybe, even more.

  Chapter Two

  “BO, LLEWELLYN and Blaise are here.”

  Bo turned from stocking the shelves in the tasting room to face RJ, his favorite waiter. Or maybe he should say his customers’ favorite waiter, which made RJ Bo’s favorite as well. RJ was handsome as a movie star, with teeth that shone like they’d been polished with a diamond file, and a sweet nature that wasn’t totally without a brain to back it up. When RJ asked a woman what she’d like, the array of potential answers always wrote itself across her face, while his manly charm made him popular with men as well. He was a treasure, pure and simple. Blaise Arthur, one of Bo’s favorite customers, called RJ “El Cutie Pie-o,” and Bo could only agree.

  “Thanks, RJ.”

  Despite a night of limited sleep thanks to dreams of Jeremy, worries about Ottersen and the future of the winery, and the imminent dinner with some unknown woman, Bo still smiled as he walked out to the patio with its spectacular view over the valley. Llewellyn and Blaise numbered among the customers dearest to his heart. He would have called them friends if he’d chosen to be a bit more honest about himself and his life. They were even planning their wedding at the winery, which thrilled Bo more than he could say—literally.

  Llewellyn and Blaise sat near the wall holding hands, sipping one of Bo’s dry whites, and gazing out across the scene.

  “Afternoon, gentlemen. So delighted to see you.”

  Both Blaise and Llewellyn turned. Speaking of movie stars, Blaise certainly qualified as a golden god, while Llewellyn’s quiet nerdiness snuck up on a man until it bit him in the drawers.

  “Bo, hi, darling.” Blaise jumped up and gave Bo a hug.

  Llewellyn held back as was his way, then extended a hand for a shake. “H-hello.”

  “Did y’all come for a bit of wedding planning?”

  Blaise sank back in his chair. “No, just for a brief respite. Between solving history’s mysteries and a few real ones, Llewellyn hasn’t had a break in weeks. Plus the English department finally decided I really was a teaching assistant, aka indentured servant, and they have me assigned to half the classes in the curriculum.” He fanned himself.

  Llewellyn chuckled. “Well, at l-least a third of them.”

  “Coming to the winery is the closest we can get to a vacation without traveling more than thirty minutes.” Blaise laughed and sipped his wine. “This is amazing, by the way.” He raised his glass. “Do you have a minute to join us?”

  “Love to.” Just hanging out with a happy gay couple made Bo’s chest get warm with both joy and envy. One of these days. He sat opposite Llewellyn. “So what kind of mysteries are you solving?”

  “I-I’m delving into m-mystery cults. Mostly Dionysian. So m-much isn’t known about them.”

  “Fascinating.”

  Blaise said, “Actually, Llewellyn’s little foray into law enforcement was so successful, the police have been asking his opinion on different issues. He hardly has time for his real work.”

  Bo frowned.

  Blaise asked, “What is it? A problem?”

  Bo shook his head. “I was just thinking how the local growers could sure use a mystery solver.” He gave a short laugh.

  “W-what kind?” Llewellyn looked genuinely interested.

  “Oh sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like such a mountain. It’s just that Ernest Ottersen seems to have a mysterious ability to delve into other wineries’ secrets and beat them at their own games. He’s putting people out of business.”

  Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like plain old-fashioned industrial espionage to me.”

  “Probably, but nothing anyone has been able to suss out.”

  “Is h-he impacting y-your business, Bo?” Compassion showed all over Llewellyn’s face.

  “Some, but I’m less impacted than most. Since I dry farm, it’s hard to replicate my process overnight, and the technique produces a unique flavor you either love or not.”

  “We love it.” Blaise grinned and took a drink.

  “B-but others are suffering?” Llewellyn seemed automatically attracted to mysteries.

  “Yes.” Bo tried not to look too distressed. After all, he didn’t want to create a panic among their customers. “Mostly losing contracts with the Napa and Sonoma vintners. It’s a primary source of income.”

  “Who’s hardest h-hit, Bo?”

  Bo breathed out softly. “Randy and Ezra are somewhat affected. But mostly, uh, Hill Top Vineyards. Ottersen seems to have a target on Jeremy Aames’s back.”

  Llewellyn pressed a hand against his chest. “Oh no. We love H-hill Top second only t-to you.”

  “Me too.” Bo glanced up. “I mean, I think Aames has done an amazing job for having been here such a short time. He adds value to the valley.” There, that sounded professional. “But business is business, I suppose.”

  “Fuck that!”
Blaise made a rude noise, and Bo laughed.

  “Don’t hold back, darlin’. Tell us how you really feel.”

  Blaise leaned forward. “Seriously, Bo. Anything we can do, just holler. You know how much we love you and the whole central coast wine country. We hate to see it threatened by some asshole. Right, dear?”

  Llewellyn nodded, a slight crease between his deep, intelligent eyes.

  Bo stood. “Enough of my silly problems. Let me get you glasses of something new I just blended, and we’ll talk about ideas for your reception. I can’t wait to hear if you and Helen worked out a date.” Helen Firenze, his catering manager, had been trying to find a day that fit into their busy schedules and the winery’s heavily booked event schedule.

  As Bo walked through the doors into the tasting room, he glanced back and saw Blaise and Llewellyn talking way too seriously to be discussing a wedding. Five minutes later he went back with RJ beside him carrying a tray of Brie, grapes, and crackers, along with three glasses of wine.

  One glance at RJ was enough to make Blaise smile, while Llewellyn looked a little less pleased. Despite the fact that RJ had a girlfriend, he did seem to smile extra big at Blaise, and Llewellyn didn’t miss much.

  Bo took the tray. “Thanks, RJ.” Yes, that was a dismissal. RJ delivered a laser-beam grin right at Blaise and walked back into the tasting room. For a straight man, those hips did have a sway.

  Bo cleared his throat, placed the plates and glasses on the table, and then sat back down. “Okay, darlin’s, let’s talk wedding.”

  Blaise put a hand on Bo’s arm. “Before we plunge in, is there a chance you could invite Llewellyn and me to a vintners’ event? Someplace we can meet the local players without being super conspicuous?”

  “What an idea.” Bo smiled. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  There was a chance he might actually sleep that night.

  “BO, DARLING, where are you going looking so very fine?”

  Bo checked his watch and paused in the hall of the house to kiss his mama’s cheek. “Thank you, ma’am. However, if that’s true, it’s totally wasted since I’m simply going to a business meeting.”

  “You spend too much time working. You should be taking some leisure.”

  He really wanted to sigh loudly. “I have responsibilities, Mama.”

  “Yes, I know.” She did sigh loudly. “And if your daddy hadn’t left us so suddenly, you could enjoy your youth without the burden of a family.” All that was missing was the back of her hand to her forehead.

  “It’s my pleasure to serve the family. But I have to go.” He moved as if to pass her and got a firm hand on his arm.

  “At least tomorrow night you can have a bit of social time with a lovely lady.”

  “Blind dates are not altogether relaxing, Mama.” When she frowned, he said, “But I’m sure it will be lovely.” He strode across the great room and out the kitchen door to the garage before he stopped and balled his hands into his fists. Just take a breath. Tonight at least will be fun.

  He let himself smile, climbed in the Prius, and headed toward the restaurant in Cambria he and Jeremy had agreed upon. Yes, it was a bit of a drive, but he loved Cambria. It was charming and romantic. Plus they were less likely to be seen together there than in a local place, so he wouldn’t have to pretend quite so hard.

  The long, winding road toward the coast stretched out before him, devoid of cars but crowded with his thoughts. Colluding with Jeremy to defeat Ottersen was one type of partnership. Beyond that, Bo couldn’t guess. Bo knew Jeremy was gay. Everyone did. No one knew Bo was gay. Should he come out and tell Jeremy? Could he trust Jeremy with a secret like that, and was it even fair to burden him with it?

  Before he could reach a conclusion, he arrived at the restaurant and parked in the small lot behind it in crowded downtown Cambria. Play it by ear time.

  Heart beating hard, Bo climbed out of the little silver-blue car and walked into the cottage-style building he knew to be a far more upscale establishment than its hippy-dippy furnishings made it appear. Jeremy was sitting on an old church pew against the entry wall when Bo walked in. Other would-be diners cast subtle glances at him—he was just that handsome—but his mane was pulled back into a strict tail at his neck, or they would have been staring openly. The smile he flashed as he stood went straight to Bo’s balls—and his cheeks with a flush of heat. Bo managed to get a word past his frozen lips. “Hello.”

  “Hi.”

  Their eyes met and couldn’t seem to let go. Fine with him, but they weren’t even close to alone. Bo swallowed hard and glanced around at the other customers, then back at Jeremy. “So, are they ready for us?”

  “Probably. They said they were getting the table ready when I came in.”

  Bo walked over to the hostess and used the dimples. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Bo Marchand. You’re preparing a table for me and my, uh, associate, Mr. Aames. Would y’all happen to be ready for us?” Flashing all the expensive dental work seemed to do the trick.

  “Oh yes, sir, Mr. Marchand. We have a lovely table for you, private as you requested.” She fluttered her lashes.

  He leaned in. “A very important business meeting. You understand.”

  “Oh yes, sir.” She looked behind her. “Violet, please take Mr. Marchand to his table.” She grinned and said softly, “Or anywhere else he wants to go.”

  Bo chuckled and waved a hand to Jeremy to follow as Violet led them to a booth toward the back of the restaurant. They slid in on either side of the table.

  Violet smiled. “Do you know what you’d like to drink?”

  Jeremy asked, “May we see the wine list, please?”

  “Of course.” She stepped to a nearby serving table and grabbed a menu. “Here you go.” She glanced down. “Can I ask how tall you are?”

  Bo grinned. “Just a tiny tad over six feet four, ma’am.”

  She giggled. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

  Jeremy chuckled. “You do package the charm there, darlin’.”

  Bo’s cheeks heated.

  Jeremy leaned across the table and angled the wine list so Bo could see. He said, “They have a few of my blends and most of your vintages.”

  Violet reappeared.

  Bo said, “I’ll have a glass of the Marchand zin.”

  “Excellent choice, sir.” A grin tugged at her lips. She probably remembered his name. She glanced at Jeremy. “You, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “No Hill Top?” Bo asked.

  “Nah, I like the good stuff.”

  Violet walked away as Bo laughed. But then they were alone. Choose something to talk about. “Uh, so have you thought any more about how we can work together?”

  A waiter walked up with two balloon glasses of red and placed them on the table. “Enjoy.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Oh, we will.” As the waiter returned to the kitchen, Jeremy held up his glass. “To us.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Uh, to our partnership.” His nostrils flared. “I mean, to defeating Ottersen.”

  Bo’s pulse fluttered in his throat. “To all of those.”

  They drank and Jeremy closed his eyes, revealing long, thick lashes several tones darker than his dirty-blond hair. “Oh man, you do give good zin, my friend.”

  “I’m so glad you like it.”

  “I do. So much.”

  The words were simple, but they made Bo shiver, and he sloshed a mouthful of wine between his lips, spattering some on the white tablecloth. “Uh, so, ideas?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “Beyond sharing some recipes and doing some cross-referral that I think we already do, I haven’t come up with anything spectacular.”

  Bo shook his head. “We need to influence the buyers more than the customers.”

  “True.”

  Violet reappeared at the table with food menus, and they both ordered salmon. Bo opened his mouth to speak when a pretty woman rushed over to the table.

  “You’re the guy from Marchand Win
eries, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I am.”

  She made a little noise almost like a squeal. “A real winemaker. I just love your place, and those sandwiches. Oh my God, I can’t even say. I like your wine too, but those sandwiches.” She smiled. “You’re sure going to make some woman a great husband.”

  “Most kind, thank you.” He could feel the pink rising in his cheeks.

  “You must be from somewhere else. Where is that?”

  “I’m from Georgia, ma’am.”

  “Oh my God, you’re just too perfect. Are you single?”

  “I am.” How could he make her go away?

  “Haven’t found the right woman yet?”

  He cleared his throat. “Something like that.”

  “Well, come on, the female population’s waiting!” She laughed loudly, and several diners looked over at their table. “I’m Jennifer, by the way.” She held out her hand and he shook it lightly, but she grasped him with both hands. “I guess I better leave you alone.” She looked at Jeremy and her eyes widened. “My goodness, when have I ever seen so much pure hunkiness at one table?” She released Bo and grabbed Jeremy’s hand. “Are you a winemaker too?”

  “Yes, I am.” He grinned and she about fainted, fanning herself with her hand.

  “Wow. Have a good dinner, and I’ll be coming to get some more of those great sandwiches.” She waggled her fingers. “Bye now.”

  Glancing back frequently, she sauntered away from their table.

  Jeremy smiled, shook his head, and said, “A way with the ladies.”

  There was the perfect opening. All Bo had to do was say the words and he’d be out to Jeremy.

  Chapter Three

  JESUS, THOSE eyes look like jewels.

  Jeremy tried to keep smiling as he stared into Bo’s pale green eyes and watched some kind of war of the worlds going on behind them. What’s happening in that smartass brain?

  He wanted Bo’s support. Jeremy was the newcomer to the central coast wine region. Bo, while not an old-timer by any means, had made a real place for himself with his innovation and dedication. People respected him. Why Bo wanted to be on Jeremy’s side, he wasn’t sure, but hell, gift horses and all that.