“Something tells me you can. Order anything you want.”
Nikki shook her head. “Are you sure about this?”
“Humor me.”
“Fine.”
When the waiter came over, Derek ordered a Caesar salad to start for each of them, and Nikki ordered a half bottle of a crisp Fumé Blanc produced from a winery in Napa. “Why did you go with this wine?” Derek asked.
“Their Sauvignon Blanc pairs well with the salad because the tart, crisp fruit of the wine contrasts with the salty flavors of the anchovies and Parmesan in the salad. The winery that makes this wine is one producer that still believes in varietal character. Their Fumé Blanc actually tastes like a Sauvignon Blanc instead of the style of some other producers that over-oak their Sauvignon Blanc to the point that it tastes like Chardonnay instead of the grape it actually is,” Nikki said when the waiter moved away.
“Off to a good start.”
“This is very strange, Derek.”
“Not really.” He set his glass down and looked pointedly at her. “Why did you order a 375 instead of two glasses, since they pour it here by the glass as well?” Derek asked, referring to the half bottle by its other term.
“Why would I order two glasses of wine and pay more per glass, when I can get two and a half glasses in a half bottle for a little less and watch the waiter open it? This way, I know that it’s fresh and hasn’t been sitting behind the bar for three days.”
“Good point.”
They drank the wine, and Derek ordered the next course—Maine diver Scallops with lemon basil risotto. Nikki paired the main dish with a Pinot Noir.
“Explain yourself,” Derek said.
“I always like to have a white and a red. You wanted the scallops, I want a red. The only red in my opinion that’s versatile enough to pair with seafood is Pinot Noir. This Pinot should be Burgundian in style—I like lean Pinots. Tonight looks like an opportunity to try it. You did give me carte blanche to order the wine.” She arched an eyebrow.
He smiled. “I did, didn’t I?”
The waiter brought over and uncorked the wine. They didn’t have half bottles of the Pinot, so she’d gone ahead and ordered them by the glass.
“Yes, you did.” The wine was going to her head, indeed. She was feeling far more confident than she had in a long while. No more bad acting, but an interested winery owner asking her questions—and, was she actually living up to his expectations? Who cared? She was having fun. And, she had to admit, she did care that he seemed impressed. “What do you think of the Pinot?” Nikki asked, getting into Derek’s little game. She motioned for him to try the wine.
“Oh, no, you first. That would be proper etiquette. You did order the wine.”
“Yes, it would.” She laughed, and brought the glass up to her nose. “Oh.”
“What?”
Nikki looked up at the waiter. “I’m sorry. This wine has been corked.”
“But it wasn’t opened, ma’am.”
“True. However, some say that in the bottling process, on average one in twelve are corked, and therefore they go bad.”
The waiter apologized and went for another bottle.
Nikki leaned into Derek. “He must be new. Most waiters who wait at these types of places know that.”
“They can’t all be aficionados. Not like you.”
She shook a finger at him. “You’re giving me too much credit.”
In between ordering, Derek said to her, “Tell me about yourself. I know there’s more to you than waiting tables.”
Where to start, and where not to? She would have to tip-toe around this one. “Actually, I do some acting.”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “I don’t watch a lot of TV, but I thought I might have seen you before.”
“I doubt it.” She shrugged. Nikki didn’t want to bring up her embarrassing stint as Detective Sydney Martini. “I did a pilot and a handful of shows, but it didn’t make it. It was on one of the cable channels. It was supposed to be like a CSI meets Alias kind of thing, but my acting wasn’t exactly worthy of an Emmy.”
“I bet you’re too critical of yourself. Are you doing anything else? Any new shows?”
“Nope. Nada. My agent isn’t calling. She’s probably forgotten my name.” Nikki laughed, trying to make light of it. “I’m thinking that maybe acting isn’t my bag at all.”
“It’s not a passion, then?”
“I didn’t say that. But I’m thinking that maybe being on the other side as a writer might be a better fit for me. I’ve always loved writing. I’ve even thought it would be fun to create a dinner theater. For the moment, it’s looking like I’d better find another day job.”
“You’re not going back to Chez la Mer, then? They said it wouldn’t be a problem for you to come back.”
“I’d rather not. I think I’ll be much happier if I can get away from waiting tables.”
The waiter arrived with their entrées, arranged their plates before them, and poured them their selected glasses of wine from a new bottle of the Pinot.
Derek held up his glass. “My turn to toast. To a fascinating lady, and to the prospect at hand.”
Nikki held up her glass. “And to whatever that might be.”
He set the wine down. “You’ve made some very nice selections tonight. Can I ask you how you know so much about wine?”
“When you work in the restaurant industry, you learn a lot about good wines.”
Derek shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. You know more than the average waitress. What gives?”
“It interests me. The one thing I did like about my job was that my manager always let us join in on the wine tastings. I quickly learned that if I had knowledge about the wines I could up the bill by a decent amount.”
“And by doing so, you got a larger tip.” Derek finished her sentence for her.
“A girl has got to make a living. I follow the credo that knowledge is power, and as a waitress, that can equate to money. Believe me, when I first started working at the restaurant I had to fake my way through. All I knew was that red wine came from red grapes and the white, well, it’s obvious. So, once I started doing the tastings, I’d head to the library and check out books on wine, and then once my brain was trained I was able to train my palate.”
“The library, huh?”
That was the truth. She’d spent a lot of time in the library. Wine and food magazines were not the only “interest” Nikki had. She’d studied many things and had given herself what she liked to refer to as her own private school education. “Yep. The library. I love to read, research, and learn new things.”
“Uh-huh. Kind of a Renaissance woman.”
She held up her glass before taking another sip. “If you say so.”
“I do, and I like your answer. Anyone who has a desire to keep growing and educating themself fits okay into my book, which I thought you might anyway. Here’s the deal. You’re out of a job. I have a job for someone like you, who knows wines. I’m looking for a new sales manager and personal assistant at my estate in Napa. I lost my last one to a maternity leave. She ended up wanting to stay home permanently after the six weeks were up. I couldn’t blame her. I think you would be perfect for the job.”
“No, no, no.” Nikki shook her head. “I don’t know that much about wines. And I certainly don’t know the first thing about sales.” Her head whirled due to the buzz from the wine and from the scotch earlier in the evening, which was suddenly coming on really strong.
“You’re right for this job. And yes, you do know about sales. What do you think you do at the restaurant?”
“Listen, Derek, I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I don’t think so.”
“All right, a deal then. You fly back up to Napa Valley with me in the morning. Stay at the vineyard for a few days. Learn about our wines and what the job entails. If after that time you still don’t feel confident with the position, you fly home. No harm done. Can I add that th
e job pays close to six figures, with bonuses and benefits?”
Okay, now that was an attention getter. Nikki cocked her head, studying Derek across from her. That kind of money could change her life. What would it hurt to get out of L.A. for a few days? She’d never seen Napa Valley. Oh, yes, the wine was working nicely on her.
She noticed Derek studying her, tracing his finger around the rim of his wine glass. Nikki touched his finger with hers. “What time does the flight leave?”
Maine Diver Scallops
Maine diver scallops are always a winner. For this dish try Estancia Pinnacles Pinot Noir. This wine is fruity with ripe cherry and strawberry, layered with sweet oak and aromas of dried flowers, leaf, and spice. It has a silky mouth-feel and leaves a long finish.
21⁄2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 tablespoons leeks cut into julienne strips
1 cup shiitake or oyster mushrooms cut into large pieces
1⁄2 cup shallots, minced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon fresh thyme, finely chopped
1⁄2 teaspoon white pepper
2 tablespoons Armanac, or brandy or cognac
2 lemons
1 cup heavy cream
8 fresh Maine diver scallops
1⁄2 teaspoon Balsamic vinegar
Heat one teaspoon of the olive oil in a medium skillet over high heat. Add garlic and sauté until golden brown. Add leaks, mushrooms, and shallots and cook for two minutes, seasoning with kosher salt, thyme, and pepper. Deglaze the pan with Armanac and fresh lemon, reducing by half. Add heavy cream and reduce until the cream thickens as a glaze. Remove the ragout into separate bowl. Add the scallops to the skillet, and cook for about three minutes on each side. Place the ragout on dinner plates, top with the scallops. Drizzle Balsamic vinegar over the top. Makes either 4 appetizers or serves 2 as a dinner entrée.
Risotto with Lemon and Basi
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, chopped
5 cloves garlic, chopped (or 1 tablespoon chopped garlic from a jar)
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 cups Arborio rice
1⁄2 cup dry white wine
31⁄2 cups simmering chicken broth, with the addition of 2 tablespoons finely grated lemon zest
3 tablespoons butter
1⁄2 cup grated pecorino Romano cheese (or Parmesan)
2 tablespoons parsley, chopped
1⁄4 cup basil, julienned
salt and pepper
In a large saucepan, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Add onion, garlic, and shallot. Cook until onion is translucent. Add rice, stirring constantly, and cook 5 minutes more, making sure rice does not brown. Add wine, stirring constantly, and let totally evaporate. When wine is evaporated, begin adding broth 1⁄2 cup at a time, letting each addition evaporate before adding the next addition.
After fourth addition of broth is added, begin tasting rice. Rice should be al dente when done. You need to keep tasting rice, because, depending on rice, you may or may not have to use all of the broth. Add lemon zest after fourth addition of broth is absorbed.
After last addition of broth is absorbed, remove from heat, and stir in butter, Romano, parsley, and basil. Season with salt and pepper. Serve immediately. Serves 6-8 as a side.
Chapter 3
Private planes, fancy cars, and mansions set among luxuriant vineyards. This place exuded wealth. Nikki watched from the car window as Derek sped past one vineyard after another, noticing the enormous Tudor-style and ranch homes. This kind of wealth captured a serene elegance from an age gone by, whereas L.A. seemed so artificial. That was the only way she could think of it. The people from this region knew how to be rich and carry it off. Old-school wealth at its most gracious.
Twenty minutes after landing at the airport in the Malveaux Estate private jet, Derek pulled his black Range Rover in front of an iron-gated fence. The name Malveaux was etched into the gate. Derek pushed a button on a remote he pulled from the overhead visor, and the gate opened. They entered and drove down a long dirt road surrounded by sections of grape vines, all twisted up like long manes on wild horses. Rows of chocolate brown soil—rich and vibrant, mixed with flowing areas of intense green, looking as though they would be soft to the touch, like silk or satin. A light fog hung in the air, drifting down from the clouds hovering above, appearing stormy and ready to explode—volatile in such a serene setting. Nikki cracked the window and took in the earthy fresh scent.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Derek inquired.
“Unbelievably so.” Nikki feasted her eyes on the sights around them. “Do you ever work in the vineyard itself?”
“Sure I do. It’s what I love the most about living here. You know, people come here and all they see is wealth, greed, materialism, and believe me, there’s plenty of that. You’ll see when you meet my family. I come from a long line of snobs, and for the most part, the tradition still holds. But for me, there’s a lot more about this vineyard that gives me joy than just the money.”
Nikki looked away from the scenery for a moment and over at Derek. She noticed that his hands gripping the steering wheel were sun-kissed and weathered. He told the truth. A man with hands like that certainly worked the land.
“It’s really an art form,” he said.
“What is?”
“Growing the grapes. You can liken pruning vines to the art of sculpting. It’s that precise.”
“Really?” He faced her, and the faint sunlight glistening through the fog caught his eyes and made them look bluer than any ocean Nikki had ever seen. Yep, the scenery around this place was A-okay.
“It’s like pruning roses in relation to the time and consideration you have to give to each vine. Believe me, you have to know exactly where to cut.”
“I had no idea. I know about tastes and what wine goes with what, but I’ve never really given much thought to the entire process, from the growth stage on.” She crossed her legs and saw that Derek’s eyes followed them, right to the hemline of her black skirt, above her knee. She’d paired the skirt with a teal V-necked sweater hoping it would complement her eyes. Her palms grew sweaty.
“You’re going to learn a lot around here, then.” He pulled the Range Rover up next to a cottage that was about half a mile away from what she assumed was the main house. It sat on a small knoll, surrounded by oak trees covered in Spanish moss. The cottage was a craftsman creation, with a porch and white picket fence to match. “This will be your home. For as long as you need it, in order to make a decision about the job.”
Nikki got out of the car and looked around, noticing a pond behind the house surrounded by more oaks. Two Muscovy ducks were enjoying a swim. For a brief moment, the scene reminded her of back home—the trees and ducks, anyway. Although the cottage didn’t look very large, it was larger by far and a thousand times nicer than the home where she’d spent her first several years in the foothills of Tennessee. “This is amazing,” she said.
He opened up the back hatch of the SUV and took out her suitcase. “Come on, I’ll show you the inside.”
The porch had so much charm in and of itself, including a swing and roses on a trellis on each side, that if it hadn’t been real, it would have had to be part of a Norman Rock-well painting.
The interior of the cottage carried the quaintness throughout, decorated in French-country plaids and florals in colors of black, peach, pink, cream, and green. A small kitchen opened into a nook with bench seating. Off to the side of the kitchen table was a small telephone table. On the other side of the kitchen was the family room with a pinewood entertainment unit complete with TV, stereo, and all the entertainment accoutrements one might desire. A fireplace in front of the sofa balanced out the room. There was one bedroom.
“Wow!” Nikki exclaimed when she opened the bedroom door. The room was an absolute dream, decorated in pink with black-and-white traditional toile. Pink roses filled several vases on
the dresser, along with an antique bookcase containing the classics. “Consider me your new tenant.”
Derek laughed and pointed to the French doors, which opened out onto a balcony overlooking the pond. “Look through there. You see that?”
Nikki went to the window and saw across the pond another home, similar in style, but more like an old barn. “The barn?”
“Not a barn,” he replied.
“No?”
“My house. I renovated it when I came home from college.” He crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. “By myself, I might add.”
Murder Uncorked Page 3
