across the dining room and hugged her enthusiastically, his slightly plump face stretched in a broad grin.
“Oh, I’m sorry, no. We haven’t released the new vintage yet.” A band of tension began to stretch across her shoulders. Again. Her father was the one who’d have to decide about the release date for the wine with Ciro’s recommendation. Another thing she wasn’t authorized to do.
Ken frowned. “Honey, we get requests for it every night. People have loved it ever since we put it on the menu, and they get pretty annoyed when we don’t have any. If we can’t get more soon, we may have to take it off the wine list.”
Morgan nodded quickly. “I know, believe me, I know. I’ll call Dad tonight and see what I can do. We’ve got some nice sangiovese left and some Morgan’s Blend.”
Lee approached from her other side and slid his arm across her shoulders. “Personally, I love Morgan’s Blend. Come and sit down, babe. You can work this out later.”
Morgan managed a smile that was almost sincere. “You know Erik, right?”
Lee gave him a dry grin. “Oh, yeah, the chief and I go way back. He kicked Otto Friedrich’s ass in our parking lot. Made us the stuff of legend.”
Erik dipped his head. “Glad to oblige.”
Two minutes later they were at a side table, the one where Lee usually put Cal and Docia. Morgan wondered about the significance. Probably just a coincidence. She flipped open her menu and tried to pretend she was hungry.
“Okay.” Erik’s voice was low. “What are you upset about, and why are you trying to pretend you’re not?”
She blinked at him. How on earth had he noticed? Nobody else ever seemed to. Or maybe they just didn’t care. She let herself slump back against the banquette. “Like I said, Brenner’s is one of the winery’s best customers. I don’t want to lose them.”
“Doesn’t sound like you will.” His lips thinned slightly. “Everybody calling everybody ‘sweetheart’ and all.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. We like each other, the three of us. But they’re in business, just like the winery. If I can’t get them the wine, they’ll drop Cedar Creek off their wine list. And they may not be too excited about putting us back on it if they can’t rely on us to keep them supplied.”
“The wine’s not ready?” He leaned forward, watching her face.
“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Dad’s the one who decides. He’s the wine master.” Dad—who hadn’t been to the winery in three months. And who still wouldn’t be able to come for a few more weeks, according to his doctor. The band of tension drew tight across her shoulders again. “He hasn’t been healthy enough to come back to Cedar Creek yet.”
“Is the wine still in the barrels?”
Morgan shook her head. “It’s been bottle-aging for a while.”
“So take him a bottle.”
She sighed. A sensible thing to suggest that would work fine with a sensible man. Her father, on the other hand, was a wine master. Sensible was not in his vocabulary. “Maybe I’ll try that. He’s pretty much bored out of his skull by now. Maybe he’ll agree to release it without actually being at the winery when we do.” But I doubt it.
“Morgan, my love.” Lee put a plate on the table between them. “Mushroom empanadas with a touch of manchego. No frowning. No sighing. Eat.” He grinned, his dark eyes dancing. “Ken wants to bring you some wine, but he’s nervous. Tell me you’re not upset about all of this stuff with your wine. Trust me—it’s going to be okay.”
“I’m not upset.” Morgan tried to make herself sound perky. Erik narrowed his eyes at her. Apparently, she didn’t do perky very well. “Honestly.”
Across from her, Erik snorted in disbelief and broke off a piece of empanada. “Good stuff,” he said, chewing.
“Thanks.” Lee raised an eyebrow. “Dinner?”
“Right.” Erik’s gaze seemed to bore a hole into her chest. “Bring us something she’ll eat every
“Oh, I’m sorry, no. We haven’t released the new vintage yet.” A band of tension began to stretch across her shoulders. Again. Her father was the one who’d have to decide about the release date for the wine with Ciro’s recommendation. Another thing she wasn’t authorized to do.
Ken frowned. “Honey, we get requests for it every night. People have loved it ever since we put it on the menu, and they get pretty annoyed when we don’t have any. If we can’t get more soon, we may have to take it off the wine list.”
Morgan nodded quickly. “I know, believe me, I know. I’ll call Dad tonight and see what I can do. We’ve got some nice sangiovese left and some Morgan’s Blend.”
Lee approached from her other side and slid his arm across her shoulders. “Personally, I love Morgan’s Blend. Come and sit down, babe. You can work this out later.”
Morgan managed a smile that was almost sincere. “You know Erik, right?”
Lee gave him a dry grin. “Oh, yeah, the chief and I go way back. He kicked Otto Friedrich’s ass in our parking lot. Made us the stuff of legend.”
Erik dipped his head. “Glad to oblige.”
Two minutes later they were at a side table, the one where Lee usually put Cal and Docia. Morgan wondered about the significance. Probably just a coincidence. She flipped open her menu and tried to pretend she was hungry.
“Okay.” Erik’s voice was low. “What are you upset about, and why are you trying to pretend you’re not?”
She blinked at him. How on earth had he noticed? Nobody else ever seemed to. Or maybe they just didn’t care. She let herself slump back against the banquette. “Like I said, Brenner’s is one of the winery’s best customers. I don’t want to lose them.”
“Doesn’t sound like you will.” His lips thinned slightly. “Everybody calling everybody ‘sweetheart’ and all.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. We like each other, the three of us. But they’re in business, just like the winery. If I can’t get them the wine, they’ll drop Cedar Creek off their wine list. And they may not be too excited about putting us back on it if they can’t rely on us to keep them supplied.”
“The wine’s not ready?” He leaned forward, watching her face.
“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Dad’s the one who decides. He’s the wine master.” Dad—who hadn’t been to the winery in three months. And who still wouldn’t be able to come for a few more weeks, according to his doctor. The band of tension drew tight across her shoulders again. “He hasn’t been healthy enough to come back to Cedar Creek yet.”
“Is the wine still in the barrels?”
Morgan shook her head. “It’s been bottle-aging for a while.”
“So take him a bottle.”
She sighed. A sensible thing to suggest that would work fine with a sensible man. Her father, on the other hand, was a wine master. Sensible was not in his vocabulary. “Maybe I’ll try that. He’s pretty much bored out of his skull by now. Maybe he’ll agree to release it without actually being at the winery when we do.” But I doubt it.
“Morgan, my love.” Lee put a plate on the table between them. “Mushroom empanadas with a touch of manchego. No frowning. No sighing. Eat.” He grinned, his dark eyes dancing. “Ken wants to bring you some wine, but he’s nervous. Tell me you’re not upset about all of this stuff with your wine. Trust me—it’s going to be okay.”
“I’m not upset.” Morgan tried to make herself sound perky. Erik narrowed his eyes at her. Apparently, she didn’t do perky very well. “Honestly.”
Across from her, Erik snorted in disbelief and broke off a piece of empanada. “Good stuff,” he said, chewing.
“Thanks.” Lee raised an eyebrow. “Dinner?”
“Right.” Erik’s gaze seemed to bore a hole into her chest. “Bring us something she’ll eat every
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