Sailing at Sunset

by Cindi Madsen

  “But I already made a reservation at a restaurant close to where we’re docking tonight, and I made sure they had a private area so we can have our big strategy session during dinner.”

  Vanessa slung her arm around Danae’s shoulders. “Hello. Strategy sessions are always better with wine. Seeing where it grows somehow makes it taste better, too. I’m not sure about the science behind it. Only that it’s true.”

  Paige now sat on the deck in the middle of the boat, her gaze focused on her lap. Given that her skin appeared paler than usual, she must be seasick. “I agree,” she said. “Plus with the water getting choppy, I’m ready to take a break from the boat.” Her comment set off a chain reaction until everyone except Danae had spoken in favor of heading to the vineyard.

  “If that’s the plan,” Josh said, “I suggest we sail over to the Jade Pond Marina. I can make a quick reservation online, and for a small fee, we can dock and order a couple cars to take us to the vineyard.”

  Danae glanced from him to her team, back to him. Clearly she was outnumbered, and he worried he shouldn’t have put her on the spot. He was simply trying to ensure that the Barton Boating Company had a great trip. Not only because he prided himself on getting even the most hesitant to enjoy themselves, but also because they were a big Newport company and it’d be good for his charter business as well.

  At long last, Danae gave him a tiny nod, although she couldn’t bring herself to say the words that would mean straying from the itinerary and the reservations she’d made.

  Josh returned to the helm to change course.

  Like it or not, by the end of this week, Danae was either going to blow a blood vessel or learn to go with the flow.

  Chapter Five

  Danae and the group walked past a rocking chair that’d been fashioned out of weathered logs and twine, and followed their tour guide into one of the leafy green rows.

  The entire place had the rustic atmosphere of a simpler life—one she was struggling to feel, considering the upcoming strategy session.

  “The land at Castle Wines Vineyard is protected farmland,” their tour guide said. “You’ll notice we plant from north to south, so that the sun will hit both sides of the rows and produce the best, healthiest grapes possible. Our estate also includes two lakes, one that we use for irrigation…”

  Danae hung back from the rest of her team as they continued on with their tour.

  The tour that wasn’t on the itinerary. Which was fine. She could improvise.

  After she formed a solid strategy.

  Her pulse thrummed faster, and she sucked in a lungful of air before gradually letting it out. Part of the reason she’d taken the trouble of reserving a spot for dinner where they’d be guaranteed privacy was because she’d never led a meeting on her own. Since a big part of this trip included proving herself as someone who could take charge, she needed the strategy session to go well. They were a diverse group who rarely agreed, and somehow she was supposed to get them to do just that.

  No pressure or anything.

  Danae lifted her planner and skimmed the notes she’d jotted down. The top three items were underlined.

  Listen better

  Consider others’ perspectives

  BE A TEAM PLAYER

  “You okay?” a deep voice asked from behind her.

  “Gah!” exploded out of Danae’s mouth as she jumped, dropping her planner in the process.

  She reached for it at the same time Josh did. Their fingers brushed, and a shock tingled up her arm. Josh’s eyes met hers, and she wondered if he’d felt it—did shoes get staticky on grass? She’d thought it was only carpet.

  Her beloved planner lay on the ground, its pages exposed. Danae hastily scooped it up. In a lot of ways, having someone see what she’d written in the compact squares and along the margins felt like allowing them to read her diary.

  “Sorry,” Josh said as he straightened. “I thought you realized I was here.”

  Danae swiped at the dirt and blades of grass stuck to the back cover. “At the vineyard, sure. In my own private row, not so much.”

  “Ah, so this is your row.” He flashed her a smile, his tone teasing.

  Danae slipped her planner in her laptop bag, thinking of how far they’d strayed from what she’d scribbled in today’s square. “I just hate things I can’t plan for, you know?”

  Josh nodded. “I got that vibe, yes.”

  She arched an eyebrow, warning him to be careful.

  “Don’t know why you’re giving me that look. Take it up with Mother Nature.”

  “Maybe I will.” Danae stuck her thumb under the strap of her laptop bag so it would stop cutting into her shoulder. Thanks to the extra notebooks she’d packed, assuming her team would forget theirs on the boat, it was heavier than usual.

  The wattage on Josh’s grin kicked up a notch. “I’d like to watch that.”

  A laugh slipped free, and she imagined herself shaking her fist at the sky and asking why it couldn’t cooperate. Mother Nature would likely respond with one of those cartoon storm clouds that followed characters around and rained only on them.

  “Come on.” Josh gestured her ahead of him. “We’re gonna miss all the good stuff. Like hearing about the kind of grapes they use in the wine we’ll drink later.”

  They continued down the row, the dappled sunlight turning their path into dancing circles of light as the leaves fluttered in the breeze. The earthen scent drifted up with each footstep, a rich mixture of dirt, sunshine, and greenery, and she realized that she had been missing the good stuff.

  This time when she inhaled, she took the time to enjoy how crisp the air was as it filled her lungs. The rows made perfect lines that covered acres of land as far as the eye could see, but the individual trunks were twisted and gnarled, each one different from the next.

  Danae slowed to study the clumps of green grapes next to her. “I wonder how many grapes it takes to make a bottle. If it’s anything like fresh-squeezed orange juice, it’s a whole lot of effort for not that much juice.”

  “Let’s guess, and then we can ask.” Josh’s shadow stretched across the leaves in front of her, turning them a darker shade of green. “Whoever’s closest gets to set tomorrow’s schedule.”

  The speed at which Danae whipped around to face him nearly gave her whiplash. The corners of his eyes crinkled, his smirk bringing out the dimple in his chin, and her exasperation faded in an instant. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Guilty. You make it too easy. Then again, maybe it’s all part of my master plan.”

  “You? Have a plan?”

  “Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “And yes. A dastardly plan, one that requires you to answer my next question honestly.” He took a step closer to her, and her heart quickened. “Are you as stressed out as you were before I crossed your path in the vineyard?”

  “You mean before you scared me half to death?” Danae asked. Then she took a second or two to truly check in with herself so she could answer his question.

  The pressure that had been building in her chest when they’d first begun the tour had eased, any remaining nerves having more to do with how close Josh was. She wasn’t sure why she was having such a nervous reaction to him, besides his aversion to following an itinerary.

  An inkling tickled the back of her brain, whispering that the reason might have something to do with his being a relatively charming, ridiculously handsome male, but she promptly shut those thoughts down. She was on this trip to earn her promotion, not to flirt with the sailboat’s captain.

  “Admittedly, I do feel less stressed. As long as I don’t go thinking too much. See, I’m new to my position.” She’d blurted out that last part before thinking better of it—hazards of an overactive, noisy mind. She suspected it also had to do with Josh’s directness, and how long it had been since anyone seemed to notice or give w
eight to her stress level.

  Since the admission was already out there—and she needed to talk to someone about the concerns her family had brushed off as silly—she pressed on. “I’m good at my job, but I need to prove to my boss I can handle more responsibility in order to keep my Chief Marketing Officer title.” The pressure that had temporarily eased began building once again, and she had to dig down deep to find her confidence. Sometimes it was about faking it till you could make it. “But don’t you worry, I’ll figure it out.”

  “I wasn’t worried for a second.”

  She laughed, surprised at how easy it had come—twice in a matter of minutes, too. “That’d be more comforting if you actually knew me.”

  “Sometimes you can just tell. You strike me as a person who achieves whatever she sets her mind to.”

  Warmth flooded her, making it that much easier to keep hold of her assuredness. “I don’t even care if you’re buttering me up. I’m going to run with it.” She started down the path again. “And my guess is nine-hundred and fifty grapes per bottle.”

  “I think you’re underestimating the grapes. I bet four hundred would do.” A mischievous gleam hit his blue, blue eyes, one that left her a tad wary and a lot intrigued.

  Within a few more minutes, they caught up to the rest of the group. As the tour guide answered questions, Danae noted how relaxed everyone seemed. The clouds that had dotted the sky were dispersing, leaving behind clear skies that looked straight out of an oil painting.

  Okay, maybe touring a vineyard in place of a foggy sail hadn’t been the worst idea.

  Vanessa moved to Danae’s side and showed her the video she’d recorded. The endless blue sky she’d been admiring glowed bright, the perfect backdrop to the leafy green vines and the restaurant down the way. “Doesn’t it look amazing? Like you just want to step inside and stay for a while. I’ll end it with a shot of wine glasses and a bottle. Maybe a cheese plate. It’s going to be perfect. ‘Not just a boat, but a lifestyle.’” She smiled as she quoted Danae’s campaign slogan.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Danae said. “I’m here, and I still want to step inside the video.”

  Their tour guide led them into a room lined with large wooden barrels, and Danae blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. Then the woman began explaining the varieties of wine.

  “If you hold the glass up to a white napkin, you can see if the wine’s more opaque or translucent, which helps us ascertain the quality.” She unfurled a white linen napkin and held it up to the glass. “See?”

  Danae inclined her head to Vanessa and whispered, “What’s the difference between opaque and translucent? It just looks red to me.”

  “I was about to ask the same thing,” Josh said, turning their duo into a trio.

  Vanessa lifted the glass the woman had set in front of her and gave it a swirl. Then she borrowed the napkin and held it up. “Think of it like your relationships…”

  “Nonexistent,” Danae joked, and Josh snorted. She ducked her head, working to cover her embarrassment over blurting that out, although she suspected the wine wasn’t the only thing red right now. At least he’d laughed.

  Did that mean he was single?

  You’re not going there, remember?

  “What I mean is,” Vanessa continued, “we want transparency in both our wines and our relationships, not murky or hazy.”

  That clicked on the lightbulb over Danae’s head. “Hmm. Things I never knew before.”

  “Me neither,” Josh said, and then he took the glass the tour guide handed him and clinked it with Vanessa’s and then Danae’s.

  Danae and Josh sipped as everyone else paused to sniff their wine—apparently they’d missed the memo. Since no one seemed to notice their gaffe, she and Josh shared a smile over the rims of their glasses. The red was dry, earthy, and a little bitter. Not nearly as sweet as she preferred, but she suspected it was right up Mark’s alley. His entire family was into wine, and she’d always felt out of her depth whenever the subject came up.

  Sure enough, Mark made an mmm noise after he swished and swallowed. “Can’t beat a nice pinot noir. They say it’s a notoriously difficult grape to grow, but a glass like this is well worth the effort.” He chuckled. “Easy for me to say, I’m sure.” The tour guide giggled, complimented him on his knowledge, and talked about the extra steps they took to ensure they had the best grapes for their pinots.

  Danae lowered her glass to the table without drinking the rest, and Franco nudged her. “Aren’t you gonna ask for a fruity white?”

  “I always feel like wine people roll their eyes over how sweet I like mine. As if wanting to avoid puckering up after every sip is a bad thing.”

  “It’s perfectly fine to like what you like,” Josh said, and Franco pointed at him.

  “What he said. Wine is supposed to be enjoyed, not endured.”

  “If I had my way, they’d roll the rim in sugar, too. Like, why can they do that for a cocktail, but not a glass of wine?”

  The tour guide moved to another section of barrels. “Would your group like to try another red, or does anyone prefer white?”

  Franco, Josh, Vanessa, and Mark all pointed at Danae, and muttered variations of “She does.”

  “We have a lovely dry sauvignon blanc, or a dessert Moscato that pairs well with berries and pastries,” the tour guide said. “Which would you prefer?”

  Danae ran her fingers along the edge of the table. “The Moscato, please.”

  “You want me to ask if she’ll roll it in sugar?” Franco asked.

  “Um, no,” she whispered. “I’m doing my best to appear as if I know what I’m doing. Pretty sure that’d give me away.”

  Their tour guide handed Danae the first glass, and this time she remembered to swirl and sniff. The citrus and honeysuckle notes made her taste buds do a jig in anticipation. She sipped, relishing the sweet flavors as they coated her tongue. “Wow. This is really good.”

  They tried a couple more options, and everyone shared one last toast with their favorite before they readied to move on to the restaurant.

  “Yes?” Their tour guide asked, pointing at Josh, who had his hand up.

  “Before we go, I was wondering if you could tell me how many grapes it takes to make each bottle of wine?”

  Instead of looking at the tour guide as she answered, Josh’s gaze moved to Danae.

  She perked up her ears, wanting to be right even though she’d merely taken a wild stab in the dark.

  “A typical vine will produce about ten bottles. So forty grape clusters per vine, which produces approximately ten bottles, makes it four hundred. Give or take.”

  Josh couldn’t help the smug expression on his face, and it took everything in him not to laugh and give himself away when Danae turned wide eyes on him.

  “How did you know?”

  Ever so casually, he rubbed his fingertips along his jaw. “Would you believe it was a lucky guess?”

  “Didn’t you see the plaque up front? I took a picture.” Vanessa swiped a couple of times and then pivoted the screen toward Danae. “It says it right there in bronze, almost word for word.”

  Danae’s mouth fell open. “You read the plaque?”

  Josh hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and shrugged. “Let this be a lesson to you. It’s remarkable how many things you miss if you fail to live in the moment.”

  A smile spread across Danae’s face, a charming little groove forming in her cheek, even as she shook her head at him. “Oh, I missed something all right. It’s called you cheating.”

  Amusement radiated through her features, casting her in a whole new light. While he’d only caught hints of this version of her on the ship, her cheery side had come out more and more as they’d wandered through the vineyard.

  Once she noticed everyone else was watching, a few of them with
crinkled foreheads, it faded faster than he would’ve liked.

  Mark, on the other hand, frowned as if he’d stepped in mud, or something worse than mud.

  Danae rubbed the side of her neck, and the more serious businesswoman he’d met first thing this morning returned. “Time for dinner. Just remember, it’s a working meal, and we’re gonna need all hands on deck.”

  The tour guide escorted their group to the farm-to-table restaurant, where she handed them over to the hostess and, with a wink, told her colleague to take good care of them.

  Rustic light fixtures hung from the ceiling, which boasted wooden beams. Large windows overlooked the vineyard, giving it an open feel. More than the usual amount of wine glasses covered the tables, as jovial groups and couples sat around enjoying the food and drinks.

  The hostess gestured to a table, but Danae pointed at one in the back corner of the room. “Actually, could we sit over there? We need to have a strategy session, and it’d be easier if we had some privacy.”

  The hostess accommodated her request, and they settled at one of the few tables without a view. A waiter arrived and described the extensive list of wines, a handful of which they’d already tried, and they each ordered a glass to go with their meal.

  After the waiter left to put in their order, Danae withdrew a notebook. “I jotted down the best ideas we had during this morning’s think tank session, and now I want to plot out how to implement them.”

  “Oh, I forgot my notebook on the ship,” Paige said, and Mark and Vanessa echoed that they’d done the same.

  “Fortunately for you, I’m prepared.” Danae passed out notebooks. The covers were paper-bag brown, with motivational sayings stamped across them. Things like Everyday I’m Hustlin’; Work, Play, Slay;, and Like a Boss. She also handed out colorful gel pens, adding that she would like them back at the end of the meeting.

  Josh sat back in his chair, attempting to put as much space between himself and the meeting as possible. “I can go eat alone if you need me to.”