Dying on the Vine

by Marla Cooper

  “I should have been more involved, I guess. But we’ve been pretty busy launching our new analytics platform. I’m sure you’ve heard about it.”

  “Oh, sure,” I said. “Those analytics platforms are…” I gave a vague wave in lieu of finishing my thought, which I’d known was going nowhere as soon as I’d started it.

  “It’s pretty cool, actually. You can embed your dashboard across any cloud service to get a consistent view—”

  “Dad,” Haley interrupted, raising her eyebrows in my still-smiling-and-nodding direction.

  “Right.” He brushed his slacks. “Anyway. That’s why I wanted to tag along today.”

  “I’m glad you did. Some things have come up, so it’s good you’re here.” He wasn’t going to be happy when he heard what Stefan had done, but if he wanted to be more involved he could start by dealing with that whole mess.

  “Why don’t we go to the conference room?” I gestured for the three of them to follow me down the hall, and I could hear Haley and Mr. Bennett mumbling to each other as we walked. From what I could pick up, “secure data exploration was tougher than people thought,” but it was also “something that could probably wait until after this meeting, Dad, don’t you think?”

  “So,” I said to Haley and Christopher once we’d all gotten settled in. “Since we last met, I’ve been trying to piece together the plans for your wedding.”

  Haley held up a spiral-bound blank book with glittery stars on the cover. “I brought my notes like you told me to.”

  “That’s great,” I said. Maybe there would be something in there I could work with. The photographer, rentals, musicians—there were still a lot of holes that needed to be filled in. “But first—”

  “And I remembered the name of the caterer,” Christopher said. Haley smiled proudly and took Christopher’s hand.

  “Yeah, about that,” I said. “Before we get started, I need to fill you in on what I’ve found out the last couple of days. There’ve been a couple of hiccups.”

  Haley and Christopher exchanged nervous glances while Mr. Bennett leaned forward in his chair. “Hiccups. What kind of hiccups?”

  I took a deep breath. “There seems to be a problem with a few of your contracts.”

  “But Babs told us that negotiating contracts was something we wouldn’t have to worry about,” Christopher said.

  “It’s not the contracts themselves that are the problem. It’s the fact that Stefan seems to have canceled several of them.”

  “He what?” Mr. Bennett’s face flushed with anger.

  “What do you mean?” Haley asked. “Which ones?”

  “Well, the florist and the cake, both of which I was able to salvage. But there’s definitely a problem with the caterer. They’ve rebooked and they’re no longer available that day.”

  Haley’s eyes grew big. “No caterer? But what about the shrimp kebabs?”

  “I don’t know. Believe me, I’m going to try to get to the bottom of this, but we might have to get creative.”

  “What about the money?” Mr. Bennett said, his voice taut with tension.

  “You’ll have to look at your contract. I did manage to talk the caterer into refunding most of your money, but unfortunately it’ll go back into Babs’ account, so that will take some figuring out.”

  Mr. Bennett gripped the armrest of his chair. “That son of a bitch.”

  “I assume you’ll be able to get it back eventually—I mean, there’s no way he can keep it, legally—but that’s something you’ll have to work out with him.” I could only imagine how that conversation was going to go.

  “I’m not going to let that bastard get away with this,” Mr. Bennett said.

  “Now, Daddy, it’s okay.” Haley put her hand reassuringly on her father’s arm.

  “No, it’s not okay,” he said, jumping up from his chair. “First that Babs woman and now this?”

  I froze, not sure what to say. He had every right to be angry at Stefan, but what had he meant by, First that Babs woman? I was a little stunned by the sudden outburst, and it made me wonder if there was more to it than an overextended budget.

  “Now, Daddy,” Haley said. “I’m sure Kelsey will be able to work all this out, but in the meantime—”

  “In the meantime, nothing,” he shouted as he headed toward the door. “He picked the wrong man to mess with! We’ll sue him for everything he’s worth. By the time this is through, we’ll own Weddings by Babs.” And with that, he stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 14

  After Mr. Bennett’s unexpected departure, Haley apologized profusely for her father’s behavior and I insisted everything was fine and that it was totally not a big deal for the father of the bride to threaten to run someone out of business.

  Of course, I couldn’t help but wonder if he deserved a spot on the murder board, but there would be time for that later. Right now we had a wedding to figure out, so Haley, Christopher, and I worked out a plan that involved a little bit of teamwork and a whole lot of improvisation, and they left with a to-do list that would take some of the pressure off of mine.

  The main priority was resolving the caterer dilemma once and for all, so after they left I settled in with the list of caterers Lucas had given me and started calling. I found three candidates who were willing to work with us on short notice, probably because they wanted to hold on to their “approved vendor” status at Higgins. My top choice was a restaurant called Cask and Vine, and I was so relieved I practically booked them over the phone, but in the interest of due diligence I made dinner reservations and then called Brody. “Whatcha doing tomorrow? I have to go check out a restaurant.”

  “Have to? Jeez, I’m sorry. You have it rough.”

  “Tell me about it. Anyway, come with me and we’ll eat ourselves silly. You in?”

  “I can’t,” said Brody. “I have to drive up to Sonoma tomorrow.”

  “You’re in luck! The restaurant’s in Napa.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be done in time. I’m doing a favor for a friend.”

  “Ah, come on! Who is this so-called friend and what’s so important that it’s infringing on our dinner plans?”

  “Guy named Jake. He wants me to shoot some pictures of his winery that he can use on his website.”

  “Jake, schmake. He can’t be all that good a friend. I’ve never even heard of him.”

  “You have too. I mentioned him the other day and I also tried to set you up with him last year.”

  “You did? What did I say?”

  “I believe you said, ‘Jake, schmake’—which … just because it rhymes doesn’t make it mean anything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t just go adding the schm sound to someone’s name when you want them to go away.”

  “Sure you can!”

  “Schmelsey McSchmenna.”

  “Hmm. You’re right. I’m not crazy about it when you put it that way.”

  “Anyway,” Brody said, “I guess if you wanted to tag along, we could go to dinner afterward. It’d be fun. I could use the company, and you’d get to spend time with your favorite person.”

  “Who, Jake Schmake?”

  “That’s not his name, and you know perfectly well that I’m talking about me.”

  “You’re not trying to set me up, are you?” I hated setups, mostly because every bride I ever worked with has tried to set me up with someone in their wedding party because they think everyone should find a love as deep and profound as their own.

  “Nope, I gave up on that a long time ago.”

  “Hey! What are you saying, I’m a lost cause?”

  “C’mon, stop being argumentative. It’s a nice drive and we can go to that cute bakery you like that has those fancy macaroons.”

  “Okay, fine, but I get to pick the music.”

  * * *

  Brody had been right about one thing: it was a beautiful drive, especially once we got off the intersta
te and were cruising down a two-lane road lined with fields of vines on either side. We rode with the windows down, and I held my arm out, riding a wave of fresh air and inviting the warm breeze to circulate freely through the car. It felt good to get out of the office, even if it wasn’t as far away as I would have liked.

  While we drove, I caught Brody up on everything that I’d learned in the last couple of days, starting with my awkward meeting at Higgins Estate.

  “So this Miles guy,” he said. “Did you add him to the murder board?”

  “I sure did. I mean, he’s not a hard-core suspect, but he is a person of interest, what with him hating weddings and all.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t hate weddings; he just doesn’t want them at his winery.”

  I shook my head. “Nope, he hates weddings. And kittens and puppies and love itself.”

  “Wow. Lock him up and throw away the key.”

  “Right? He’s pretty nasty.”

  “And you’re going to be working with him. Yay for you. Were they at least able to fill in some blanks with Haley and Christopher’s wedding?”

  “Well, that’s the second part of my story.” I proceeded to tell him about Stefan’s efforts to sabotage the wedding.

  “Unbelievable. Do you think you’ll be able to get everything done?”

  “I don’t have a choice. I’m just going to have to let go of perfection.”

  “Says the girl who won’t let me write on her whiteboard.”

  “I know, I know. I may have to lower my standards a little bit. Oh, and I may need your help if I can’t find a photographer.”

  “Hey! What the—?”

  “No! That’s not what I mean! Those two thoughts were unrelated.”

  Even though he was watching the road, he still managed to scowl at me.

  “I’m sorry, Brody. You know I love you best. So is there any chance you can help me out if I find myself without a photographer?”

  “Well, as much as your offer sounds super tempting and not at all rooted in desperation, I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “The same reason no one else can! I’m booked. You may not realize it, but I’m kind of a big deal.”

  “I know you are.” I said, smiling at him fondly. “You remind me all the time.”

  “That’s more like it.”

  “Anyway, what are you booked with?” I knew I didn’t have much of a shot at him being available, but a girl can dream. “If it’s just engagement portraits or something, you can move it.”

  “Oh, like you’d take it so well if I tried to move an appointment with one of your clients.”

  I shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

  “Well, it’s a wedding, for your information, and I’m pretty sure it’s too late for me to request they reschedule.”

  Hmph. I wasn’t surprised, really, but I wasn’t ready to accept defeat. “What time is the wedding?”

  “I think it’s at two.”

  “Okay, so Haley and Christopher’s wedding isn’t until seven. You can still make it.”

  “I don’t know. I’d have to haul you-know-what to get up there in time. Not to mention the fact that doing two weddings back-to-back would kill me.”

  “C’mon, Brody, don’t make me cheat on you with another photographer! What if I like them better and they become my new BFF?”

  Brody laughed. “Oh, right, as if you’re going to be able to find anyone you like as much me with such short notice.”

  “You never know. I’m very resourceful.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Just think about it.” I hoped I wouldn’t need him, but why have best friends if you can’t beg and plead until they do your bidding?

  A few minutes later Brody turned off the main road onto a narrow drive lined with eucalyptus trees. “What is this place? There’s not even a sign.”

  “I know. Jake’s just getting started. He took over a couple of fields of vines, and this year is his first release as Prentice Vineyard. He doesn’t even have a tasting room yet, so he’s got a lot of work to do.”

  “What are you taking pictures of?”

  “Some shots for the website. Maybe a brochure.”

  “Is he paying you in wine? Because if so, then I’m in.”

  “You’re in, regardless, because we’re here.” Brody pulled up in front of a wooden farmhouse with a wraparound porch and shuttered windows situated under a canopy of sprawling live oaks. In every direction were rolling hills covered in grapevines. “Wow. This is beautiful.”

  Brody gestured toward the house. “That’s going to be the tasting room. He’s almost done with the renovations. Speak of the devil…” He gestured toward the old house, where a tall guy with an enormous smile waved to us from the porch.

  “That’s Jake Schmake?” I asked. He was tan and muscular—not too tan or too muscular, mind you, just enough to look like he spent a lot of time outdoors—and he had light-brown hair that was perfectly tousled in a way that looked like it required zero effort. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” Brody looked puzzled.

  “That he looks like that,” I whispered.

  Brody scrunched up his nose and looked at his friend, who was dressed in paint-spattered jeans and a T-shirt and who was striding down the walk to greet us. “That he looks like what?”

  “Like my future boyfriend.”

  Brody got out of the car and greeted Jake, then gestured toward me while I stood stood gawking. “This is my friend Kelsey McKenna. She’s just along for the ride.”

  “I’m his assistant for the day,” I said, giving Jake a quick wave and trying not to blush. “Nice to meet you.”

  Jake’s blue eyes crinkled playfully as he smiled. “Watch out. I might put you to work.”

  Surprising myself, I did not blurt out anything idiotic about being his love slave but instead smiled back and—mercifully—managed to keep my mouth shut.

  “The light’s great right now,” said Brody, holding his camera up and pointing out toward the rolling hills covered in grapevines that were, in fact, positively glowing in the late afternoon light. “So I was thinking I’d get some outdoor shots first. Do you want to give Kelsey a tour?”

  “That would be great,” I said, ignoring the obvious follow-up comment that Jake had beautiful eyes.

  “You sure you can live without her?” Jake asked.

  “Ah, she’s not really very helpful,” Brody said with a wink.

  I smiled and gave Brody a sweet smile that I hoped he understood meant, “Thank you and I’m going to punch you later.”

  While Brody wandered off to capture his magical vineyard lighting, Jake showed me around the grounds, starting with the house. “Be careful not to touch the walls. They’re still wet.”

  “This is so charming,” I said, looking around the room that had probably been a parlor.

  Jake grinned handsomely. “Wait until you see it when it’s not covered in drop cloths. I’m going to build a counter out of reclaimed wood across this wall.” He pointed out several of the room’s best features while I secretly checked out some of his. After we finished exploring the house, he led me out into the backyard. The screen door swung shut behind us with a satisfying bang, sending a flock of chickens scurrying for the rosebushes.

  “We’re going to put in a bocce ball court back here,” he said, pointing, “and over here will be a patio.”

  “I love bocce ball!” I said, wondering if that was the one that worked like shuffleboard or the one with the mallets and the little metal dealies. No, that was croquet. It must be the former.

  I shielded my eyes from the sun as I mentally filled in a sprawling flagstone patio, then went ahead and strung it with theoretical party lights while I was at it.

  “Down there is the old barn,” he said. “I haven’t decided what to do with it yet.”

  “Besides store your cows?” I asked.

  He laughed. Thank God he laughed. Agrarian humo
r isn’t for everyone.

  “No cows,” he said. “But we do have a small herd of goats that we use to keep the weeds in check, and if you’re lucky maybe they’ll put in an appearance later.”

  “Baby goats?” I asked, my eyes widening.

  “A couple.”

  “Now I’m officially excited. I’ve never met a real baby goat before. Do they have pajamas?”

  Jake laughed. “I don’t think goats wear pajamas.”

  “They do on YouTube,” I said, vowing to send him some links when I got home.

  We walked down a path to the big, rustic barn shaded by humongous live oak trees. Painted a deep red with white trim, it had broad double doors, a tall, rounded roof, and the kind of weatherworn patina that comes only with age.

  Jake slid one of the doors open and sunlight flooded the inside, revealing an extra-large space with high ceilings and open rafters made of thick wooden beams.

  “Wow,” I said. “This is amazing. Are you going to use it as an event space?”

  “Maybe. I haven’t even had time to think about that. What do you think?”

  “I think this would make an incredible place to throw a wedding is what I think.” I immediately started decorating the place in my mind. “You could probably fit over a hundred guests in here. I’d put a stage down at that end and string lots of lights from the ceiling.”

  “Huh,” Jake said, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never thought of this for weddings. Don’t brides want something a little more … sophisticated?”

  “No way! Rustic is in. Besides, have you ever tried giving a hotel ballroom ambience? Trust me, brides would flip out for this space.”

  His eyes met mine. “Oh, that’s right! Brody mentioned you’re a wedding planner, so I guess you would know what brides want.” Jake looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time, then shook his head. “Maybe someday. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “Pictures!” I blurted.

  “What?”

  “Start with pictures. Put them on your website—you’re building a website, right?”

  Jake nodded.

  “So make a section called ‘Weddings,’ put up some pictures and the dimensions, maybe make up a few rules to make it look like you’ve been doing this for a while, and voila! Wedding venue.”