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Pairing a Deception

Page 19

by Nadine Nettmann


  Hudson looked at me. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re leaving the wine world.”

  I smiled. “Not a chance.”

  Hudson nodded. “I should get back to the tent. But thank you again. See you in a few days.”

  Dean turned to me once Hudson had walked away. “You know, you are really good at this. You might want to consider a career shift.”

  “I don’t know. I like helping people learn about wine and choosing the right one for their meal as I share the story of each bottle. I love wine too much to step away from it.”

  “You could do both. You could be a wine detective.”

  “Is there even such a thing?”

  “There could be.” Dean smiled. “You could investigate wine crimes.”

  “You sound like my dad.”

  “I’m sure he would love it.”

  I laughed but groaned as it caused the pain to increase. “But I’m not doing the Police Academy again.”

  “Just saying, there might be a future in it. And you wouldn’t have to do the Academy. You could be a private investigator. We could even team up.”

  “That would be nice to work together. We make a pretty good team.”

  “Yes, we do. After your test this week, you’ll have some free time.” Dean nodded. “While still studying for the Master Sommelier Exam,” he quickly added.

  Mr. Tinsley cleared his throat. I hadn’t even noticed him approach, but he now stood only a few feet away. “Ms. Stillwell, I can’t tell you how much we’ve enjoyed having you here this weekend. We’ll soon be in the planning stages for next year, but I already know that we’d love to have you host some panels. What do you think?”

  Dean winked at me and I smiled. “That would be great.”

  “Wonderful,” said Mr. Tinsley. “We’ll be in touch.” He turned to Dean. “Mr. Stillwell, thank you for your help this weekend. I appreciated your efforts to keep the police activity from deterring from the festival.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Dean paused. “Actually, my last name’s not Stillwell.”

  Mr. Tinsley’s face fell.

  “It’s okay. In a way it was nice because I was so closely associated with Katie.”

  “If you’re rejoining us at the grand tasting, I’ll get you a new name badge. The correct one this time.”

  “Thanks, but I think we have a hospital visit ahead.”

  “Of course.” Mr. Tinsley glanced at my abdomen. “I hope you’ll be okay.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you again.” Mr. Tinsley walked away.

  “See,” said Dean. “I told you there would be more seminars in your future.”

  “Let’s just hope no more murders,” I replied as I looked at the lawn and the activity around it. The hum of the festival had returned. “Overall, it was a good weekend. I was able to put a murderer behind bars, free an innocent man from suspicion, and practice blind tasting. And I’ll still get some studying in before the weekend is over.” I took out my phone. Darius had returned it when I was with the medic. “In fact, is it okay if I study while you drive us back to San Francisco?”

  “Definitely, but hospital first.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  thirty-six

  pairing suggestion: late harvest riesling —columbia valley, washington

  A sweet wine made from grapes gathered after harvest, because some things are worth the wait.

  The Phoenix, Arizona, weather was warm, but I still felt a chill as Dean and I stood outside the hotel where my exam would take place. It was Tuesday, just two days after the knife fight with Isabella, and the healing had barely started.

  “Do you feel okay?” asked Dean.

  I nodded. “I mean, sure. It’s only my career on the line.”

  “You can take the test again if you don’t pass, but I believe in you,” said Dean. “However, I was asking about your laceration. Has it healed enough to carry a tray?”

  “It’ll be fine.” I touched my stomach, the bandage hidden under my suit. “I mean, it only hurts a little bit, I just hope I don’t pop any stitches during the exam.”

  “What will you do if that happens?”

  I looked at Dean. “Just keep going.”

  “Rock star.” He smiled. “Quick, what’s the river in Portugal that goes through the wine regions?”

  “You mean the Douro River?” I laughed. “Look at you, throwing out trivia without even having flash cards in your hand.”

  “I’ve learned some things along the way.”

  A car parked near us and two guys in suits adorned with purple Certified Sommelier pins exited and walked toward the hotel.

  “Do you want to go check in?”

  “You mean, am I ready for the start of a three-day examination that tests everything I know about wine and has a very low pass rate?”

  “That, too.”

  I took a breath, but I could feel the tightness in my lungs. “I hope so. I’ve worked hard for this.” But I didn’t move. I wasn’t ready to enter. Not yet.

  “You can’t stay out here forever,” said Dean, as if reading my mind.

  “I know. I’m excited, but …” I paused. My lungs wouldn’t expand. I decided to ignore it, though it was easier said than done. “It’s going to be good.” I stared at the entrance to the hotel. “I guess this is it.”

  “Good luck. I’ll be waiting here for you on Thursday.”

  “You don’t have to wait. I can call you when I’m done.”

  “No way. I want to be here for you the minute it’s over. No matter the outcome. I won’t move from this spot. Just ignore the fact that I have a hotel booked up the road.”

  I smiled. “You aren’t even supposed to be here. You should be working on the Harper case.”

  “After your injury, I wanted to make sure you made it today. This is worth the personal days.”

  “Thank you.” I glanced at the building. “You can come inside with me, you know. You don’t have to avoid the whole hotel. You just can’t come into the exam portions.”

  “I don’t want to be a distraction. Besides, you can hang out with the other somms. Quiz each other. Laugh. All that good stuff. I’ll be waiting for you in this very spot when the test is done.”

  “Stop.” I laughed, but then looked into his eyes and smiled. “But seriously, thank you.”

  He leaned over and kissed me. “Now go get ’em, The Palate.”

  I saluted and turned toward the hotel. When I reached the front door, I glanced back at Dean. He hadn’t moved and pointed to his feet to prove it.

  I smiled and walked through the revolving door. This was it. Ready or not, it was time to take my Advanced Exam, the next step in my goal to become a Master Sommelier. Just over two hundred people around the world held the title and only a small percentage of them were women. But I was going to become one of them. I wasn’t going to let work, murders, or knife fight injuries stop me.

  I was on my way.

  the end

  About the Author

  Nadine Nettmann, a Certified Sommelier through the Court of Master Sommeliers, is always on the lookout for great wines and the stories behind them. She has visited wine regions around the world including Chile, South Africa, Spain, Germany, and every region in France. Nadine is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and International Thriller Writers. She lives in California with her husband.

 

 

 
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