One Night

by RJ Scott

  Micah could well take one look at him and shut the proverbial door in his face. This wasn't some dramatic romance novel. He wasn't expecting Micah to vow total love. This was going to be hard work. If Micah wasn't interested in exploring a relationship, then maybe there could be friendship. Maybe, once Liam explained about Leigh and Emma. So many times he had penned an email to Micah, but the generic office email address for the vineyard meant any eyes might read it, and he now had seven draft emails on his laptop. If Micah didn't want friendship? Well, Liam was going to make sure Micah had every chance for any decisions to be reversed. He had remembered the land that Micah spoke of. The plot set back against the foot of the mountains with the crumbling cabin. It would be a perfect place to concentrate on his photography.

  He didn't take his Ferrari. He left the four hundred thousand dollar scarlet birthday present in the circular driveway, and instead, they took a cab to the center of Seattle. He purchased a nearly new Suburban with one of his credit cards, and together he and his daughter began the journey east, towards the start of their new lives.

  Chapter 13

  "Why can't Zach do the wine tour?"

  "Micah, you know he's with the accountant," Rosie replied patiently, though her focus remained on the tiny baby in her arms.

  "Abbey then." There had to be someone other than him, anyone, who could do this public relations thing. What was the point in having two sisters anyway if he had to do the whole talking to the public side as well as actually make the damn wine?

  "Abbey is down manning the shop. There is only you left."

  "Well what about you? What if we waited a while? I mean how long is this gonna take?" With a wave of his hand, he indicated her and the baby. He winced as Rosie simply looked up at him with that little sister expression of disbelief at how idiotic a brother could be.

  "You seriously want a time line for how long it will take your niece to finish on my left boob before I switch her to my right one?"

  He blanched at the question and couldn't quite look her in the eye. She loved to embarrass him by bringing boobs into every conversation she could recently, and it wasn't right that a brother should know so much about his sister's chest. He realized he really should stop talking as he saw the enormity of what a huge pit he was digging for himself. Rosie was on a knife edge at the moment, tired, irritable, although mostly happy, but God help anyone who got on the wrong side of his sleep-deprived and overly-hormonal sister.

  He muttered an expletive under his breath as he looked out through the small window at the expectant group who waited for him. They were gathered like bees around honey at the sign that displayed Queue for tour here.

  "Fuck," he repeated, this time with more strength.

  "Micah Thomas Adamson, mind your language."

  Micah looked back at his sister, raising his middle finger in retort, unable to do anything but smile as she covered Lydia Paige's eyes in response. Now was not the time for him to be thinking his tough-as-nails sister looked like she was born to be a mother, bordering on maternally cute.

  Sighing with an exhalation of the greatly put-upon, he opened the side door and crossed to the small group. Long scruffy bangs dipped to cover his eyes, and he pushed them back and wished silently he had gotten a haircut or stopped to gel his damn hair this morning. Either that or at least had a shave to look halfway smart.

  "Hi, guys," he started, nerves churning in his stomach as they all turned as one to face him. The group of people shuffled to stand around him in a loose semi-circle and waited expectantly. He hated this, and it was definitely the last time he was going to be taking groups on the tour. Rosie skated on thin ice if she thought having a baby was a good enough excuse to skip out on guiding another tour.

  He categorized them briefly. A girl and boy, who couldn't be much past legal drinking age, two older couples who had winery guides clutched tight in their hands, and one dark-haired guy who stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed smartly in a suit and tie with glass-shined shoes. Taking a deep breath, Micah began the spiel, one he knew word for word, spewing out sentences describing the history of his home. He'd memorized it at fourteen when he had begun to work on tours during any out-of-school time. He couldn't say it was what he wanted to do, but it had earned him money, which he hoarded for his first laptop. He wanted to be at the cutting edge, learning the grapes, learning the process, touching and feeling the history, not only talking it out. As soon as Abbey turned fourteen, he was away, handing over the mantle of tour guide willingly. At eighteen, his parents' deaths had pushed him to the front and center of the winery he loved. That meant no more freaking tours.

  "Welcome to the Seneca Blue Vineyard and Winery, one of the very first established in the Finger Lakes area. My name is Micah, and I will be your guide today." Leaving no room for questions, he went straight into the introduction. "The best thing about this corner of New York State is the climate. You would never think that a place that gets tons of snow would be able to also have wineries of great distinction…"

  He received all the usual questions—questions from merely brainless to completely searching—and it went as well as could be expected. He answered them all without giving away too many of the secrets that made the vineyards so special and how the winery worked. The young girl on the tour wanted to taste every single sample he placed out, and the older couples kissed and flirted their way through the soft inebriation that came with twelve different wines in half an hour. Only the oldest, clearly the designated driver, held off from any alcohol.

  The only other person who stayed away from the tasting was the man on his own. He seemed interested enough, but Micah imagined he was maybe here to kill some time on a business trip or something as he didn't imbibe, nor did he really ask any questions. Micah didn't think anything of it, though. He was caught up in remembering what he should be saying about the winery and vineyard that had been in his family for four generations.

  The group stopped for a long while at the shop near the end of the tour, picking up bottles of wine, corkscrews with the Seneca Blue Vineyard and Wineries label, and other tourist crap that his Abbey, seemed to think made them money. He stopped to chat with Abbey as she waited for the group to choose souvenirs.

  "I'm not doing this ever again," he began with steel in his voice. Abbey blinked at him. He was aware she had heard this before. Hell, he had said it enough times.

  "Yes you are," Abbey replied, reaching up and tucking stray hair neatly behind his left ear. A lot passed unspoken between them. As much as he complained, she was always so damn understanding and knew he hated interacting with people. He was happiest with his soil, his grapes, his brick levels and his experiments. That is what he did—the vineyard side, the winery. Abbey did the marketing, and Rosie did everything else. He was a fish out of water here with the whole 'having to be nice to idiots' thing.

  Abbey had been the most observant since he came home. She hadn't actually come out and said anything directly, but she had hinted enough. Only this morning she had cornered him in the kitchen as the two of them helped themselves to coffee and cereal.

  "You look tired," she had commented gently, and he could do nothing but shrug.

  "Was up late doing paperwork," he had quickly replied. No way was he going to talk about meeting Liam, nor how it had opened up a barrelful of regrets. Temper and disappointment warred within him for priority; and he really didn't want to think about how he'd given in last night and googled Liam Wade, finding much more than he bargained for. He was from a freaking rich socialite family, attended private schools, the engagement announcement; the whole kit and caboodle.

  "The land stuff?" Abbey, Rosie, and he had spent a good hour finally dismissing the idea of buying the extra land to the north of their vineyard. There was another bid. The amount of which was significant enough that, if Seneca Blue tried to compete, would be like exposing its belly. "You are happy not expanding?"

  "More than happy, Abs." He attempted to push enthusiasm into the words,
but clearly failed.

  "You know, I'm not sure Cali was good for you this year."

  "Abs, honest, it was fine. I had fun."

  "Rosie said you phoned halfway through the week, and you had met a guy called Liam."

  Great, save me from meddling sisters. Exactly ten days had passed since he'd left Santa Monica, and the girls had clearly decided Abbey should ask the questions and dig for dirt.

  "Yeah. Blond, blue eyes, pretty, totally in the closet, actually engaged to a woman, with a kid involved, so it never even started." Abbey listened and then wrapped her arms around him in a sisterly hug.

  "I'm sorry."

  He could have defended himself, added he wasn't bothered, but he didn't. He never lied to his sisters, and he wasn't about to start now. Liam knew where he was and could have tracked him down through the hotel or the vineyard, but he didn't. Clearly, he was back in the closet with the coats and his fiancée. Micah needed to deal with the unease inside him that perhaps he didn't know it all, that maybe he should be tracking Liam down and shaking him until he got the full story.

  "It's fine."

  "There's someone out there willing to put up with your shit, big brother. Don't worry, you'll find him some day."

  "Brat." The word was said affectionately with no heat.

  In the shop, the young kids spent fifty dollars on two bottles of wine, a Pinot Gris '07 and an Oak Chardonnay '08. Good choices both, and he narrowed his eyes as he watched Abbey wrapping and charging.

  "Stop it," Abbey stage-whispered. She poked him in the side, and he moved out of her reach.

  "Waste of good wine," he muttered so low only she could hear. "Kids'll drink it with McDonalds at freaking room temperature." She ignored him, as she always did when he sniffed at those who he felt weren't treating his wine right.

  He couldn't say any more as the two pair of seniors chose that moment to stop at the till. They left, well over four hundred dollars lighter, the money spent between them on wine, souvenirs, and taste-rotting knickknacks that didn't link to wine in any obvious way. They bought photos of the Big Apple, American flags, and other things they could definitely pick up anywhere.

  The guy on his own bought one bottle, a particularly dry white from '06 that Micah himself favored. After Abbey rang the bottle in at nearly two hundred dollars, Micah regarded the guy with a new respect. That particular grape had been a sound basis for experimentation and a success story for Seneca Blue. Although only produced in limited amounts and not really marketed, it was very definitely a gem among all the bottles.

  With that done, everyone was happy to move on. Finally, he could leave what he fondly referred to as "Abbey's fortress of crap" to head the group back up to the visitors center.

  "I am never doing this again," he whispered with a low growl, but his sister looked at him, a picture of innocence with her fingers stuck in her ears and a grin on her face.

  He guided the group up to the end of the tour and waved them away with his best smile. He waited until the three cars—a low sexy convertible, a sensible Ford Focus, and a small Dodge Neon that had seen better days—were driven off. Only once they were simply dust clouds on the horizon and had clearly passed the main gate did Micah relax and wander back to find solitude.

  The weather was closing in on this corner of New York State. The static-charged air was the culmination of a day of promised storms coming from the lakes. He loved the storms and the blessed rain that nurtured his grapes, and he wandered down to the main fence line to watch as it built on the horizon. Zach came out of the main house, ushering their company accountant to his car, and waved at him. He waited a while, sensing his brother-in-law would come find him and give him the lowdown on what the accountant had said.

  "Profits are up from what they were this time last year," Zach started when he reached Micah and leaned his long slim body against the same fence.

  "Good." More taxes yes, but any profit, especially in times of recession, was a good thing.

  "I hate that accountancy shit." Zach had definite venom in his voice, shrugging and rolling his shoulders and sighing hard.

  "I hate being a tour guide," Micah grumbled back, looking out at the vines beyond them. He didn't abhor the tours quite as much as being forced to deal with numbers, but it was close.

  "Tours are up too." Zach chuckled low in his throat. "That's partly why our sales were stable."

  Micah might understand that they needed these tourists here, but the relief when they left the winery and his haven resumed its tranquility was exquisite. Damn day-tripping wine-guzzling Neanderthals, ruining his peace and taking him away from his grapes.

  "Accountant still says we should think again about buying up the Coulter land when the estate is processed through probate."

  "I've been thinking on it. Abbey, Rosie and I have agreed we don't want to expose ourselves. We don't need the land for anything other than closing access to the north of here."

  "Plenty of people interested in it. They've had that one offer, and the estate is considering it."

  "The land is largely inaccessible. Did you manage to get out of him if it's another wine company?" He couldn't imagine why anyone else would want the land. It could only be reached by one long dusty road and had only a small three bedroom cabin in one corner. The Coulter family had dwindled down until only Old Jeremiah Coulter had been there, clinging to the dust and the land with a tenacious grip.

  "He doesn't know, just that it's a pretty hefty bid. Anyway, it has a closing date for next Friday, if the family is interested."

  "Nah, it's enough to keep an eye on it."

  Chapter 14

  Liam was waiting at the door of the rented house. "How did he look?" he asked quickly as soon as the door shut behind Edward. The older man took the time to remove his jacket and run fingers through his steel gray hair.

  "The young man who led the tour?" He summarized, as if he wasn't fully aware that this was exactly what Liam was asking. Edward had been the family lawyer for more years than Liam had been alive, and he was a family friend. Liam was used to his ways and the air of superiority Edward wore like a cloak around him. He was here as a means to an end. With client privilege, Liam knew nothing that happened in New York state would get back to his family. Not until it was too late.

  "Micah," Liam pointed out quickly. "His name is Micah."

  "He looked like I would expect a young man not of your usual acquaintance to look. Scruffy, if you want me to be entirely honest, sir."

  "Scruffy?" Liam half smiled. Anyone that Edward thought looked scruffy was generally actually very hot.

  "Tired and he clearly hadn't shaved." Edward sniffed disapprovingly, but Liam ignored him.

  Why was Micah tired? Was he working too hard? Was it too much to hope he'd had anything to do with that? He doubted he even featured as a blip in Micah's ordered life. Still, he wanted to be a blip in Micah's life, and he was so close now.

  "What is it like? The vineyard, I mean."

  "Tidy, expansive, well run," Edward said in his usual competent way, and then added in a less serious tone, "Dusty." There was a small glimpse of the humor Edward hid behind the serious lawyer face he presented to the world. The humor was part of the reason why, at the end of it, Liam had affection for the older man. The fact that Edward adored Emma and spoiled her with small gifts all the time helped.

  "And the bid?" Which was a more complicated question, simple in words, but any reply Edward gave would hold so much of his future.

  "The bid has been filed, and I believe, from discussions with the family, that it is close to being accepted. Offering fifty thousand over asking price probably sealed it."

  "And Seneca Blue, Micah and his sisters… they hadn't bid on it?" He didn't want to usurp land that Micah needed. If worse came to worst, Liam would find land elsewhere that was as close to Micah as he could get.

  "The owner's agents tried not to give much away, but from my investigations, I believe you were the only bidder. I also drove to
the site today."

  "And?"

  "That too was very dusty, and not really a good road for my convertible. I would suggest your purchase of the suitable off-road vehicle was a good one."

  "What is the cabin like?"

  "Labor will be needed to fix a multitude of problems, both externally and internally." Edward pulled details from his folder "Three bedrooms, water, sewage, electric, gas, and the building is old."

  "We can deal with that, right? We're fine in this rental and I can call in for some quotes. Emma and I will be in for an adventure. I spoke to the school today, and I have her enrolled in preschool for two mornings a week to start in September."

  "I should imagine your father is quite perturbed you are taking his granddaughter to the back of beyond, and to public school nonetheless."

  "This is good country. I feel safe, and I know I can make a real home here. I'll be able to drive her to school and be there when she finishes."

  "And the young man you had me check out? How does he figure into this new life?"

  "I don't know where to start Edward." How did he explain the compulsion to move to Rochester, or the impulse to look into the land? Micah hadn't offered anything past one night, not in so many words. They never did get to have the talk the morning after. "This is the biggest thing I have ever done," he began carefully. "I only ever had one real friend in my life, and she left me Emma when she died."

  Edward nodded. "A sad loss. I had a lot of respect for Janelle; she was a good person."

  "I need a friend, Edward, and I'm hoping I can find a friend in Micah, maybe even find some peace for Emma and I. Plus I want to work on my photography…I want to slow down, live a life."

  "Then I wish you luck, sir. The very best of luck to you and the little lady."