Authors: Tricia Stringer
He didn't even blink. “Done.”
Damn, Taylor thought, I should have asked for more. She hoped she was doing the right thing as she processed his credit card. Without Peter to help her she just had to make it up.
“I'll put these in the car,” the guy said to Mr Cheng.
There was a clatter behind her and Peter burst into the room. His face was sweaty and he was puffing slightly as if he'd been running. His shirt was streaked with red.
“Welcome back,” Taylor said with a smile. “Your guests have
been waiting a while.”
“Guests?”
Peter looked at the two Chinese men on the other side of the bar and then to their companion as he came back through the door.
“This is Mr Starr,” Taylor said.
“About time,” murmured the tall guy.
“Very pleased to meet you,” Mr Cheng said. “May I introduce the head of Zhu Trading, Mr Zhu.”
Taylor noticed Peter wipe his red-stained hand down his jeans before he extended it over the counter. “Peter Starr,” he said. “How can I help you?”
“No, no.” Mr Cheng shook his head vigorously. “We have a meeting with Mr Edward Starr.”
Taylor stared at Peter who opened and closed his mouth.
“Edward's not here,” he said.
Mr Cheng began speaking to Mr Zhu in Chinese.
“What time do you expect him back?” tall guy asked.
“And you are?” Peter said.
“Frank Lister.” He stood up straight, making him a head taller than Peter. “I don't know what kind of show your brother runs but Mr Zhu had a meeting with him at four pm today. We've driven from Melbourne especially and we have to drive back tonight so that Mr Zhu can catch his flight tomorrow morning.”
“Look, are you sure the meeting was to take place here?” Peter asked.
“Where is Mr Edward Starr?” Mr Cheng cut in. His voice was low but firm.
“Well that's just it. I'm fairly sure he's in Melbourne for a meeting. I don't know who with butâ”
Lister cut Peter off with a muttered burst of expletives.
A pained expression crossed Mr Cheng's face. He took a deep breath then pulled a thin smile to his lips and looked from Peter to Taylor. “There seems to be a mistake,” he said slowly and clearly. “I myself rang last week and spoke to the young woman.” He
nodded at Taylor then turned back to Peter. “I told her Mr Zhu had found time to visit the winery in person. Instead of meeting Mr Starr in Melbourne we were to meet here.” He looked pointedly at Taylor.
She shook her head. “It wasn't me.”
“Taylor has only been here two days.” Peter defended her. “You must have spoken to someone else and the message wasn't passed on. What were you meeting Edward about? He is the business manager but I am his brother and the winemaker here. Perhaps I can help?”
Mr Cheng spoke to Mr Zhu and there were a lot of short words exchanged back and forth and head shaking before he turned back to Peter.
“I am sorry but Mr Zhu's business is only with Mr Edward Starr.”
Pete pulled his mobile from his pocket. “I could try ringing him.”
Once more Mr Cheng spoke to Mr Zhu. Mr Zhu shook his head emphatically.
“That won't be necessary,” Mr Cheng said. “It was meant to be a meeting in person. We thank you for your hospitality, Miss Taylor.” Both Chinese men inclined their heads to her. Taylor fought the urge to laugh.
Mr Cheng turned back to Peter. “We enjoyed your wine very much. You are a very good winemaker. Now we must go.” Both men inclined their heads again and turned on their heels.
Lister leaned over the bar and spoke in a low voice to Peter. “Bad luck about your brother but good job with the last red.”
“Last red?” Peter said to Lister's back as he let himself out. He turned to Taylor. “Was that the shiraz or the cab sauv?”
She chewed her bottom lip as she took in his puzzled expression. “Neither,” she said.
He frowned.
“I hope I haven't done the wrong thing.” She held up the reserve bottle she'd opened. “I sold him this one.”
Peter's eyes widened. “That's not on the tasting list.”
“I know, but I was trying to stall for time. It was sitting on the bench, so I opened it.” She grinned. “That Lister guy really went for it.”
“How many bottles did he buy?”
“I could only find the box this one had come out of. He took the lot.”
Peter ran his fingers through his short curls. “Eleven bottles?”
“I'm sorry.” Taylor was worried by his reaction. “Was it the wrong thing to do?”
“It's all we had left of our best cabernet. I was keeping it for any of our weekend tasters who showed a special interest.”
“I'm sorry,” Taylor said again.
“Look, you weren't to know. We'll have a replacement bottled soon. Lister reckoned it was okay did he? I wasn't going to try it tonight but now that you've opened it let's give it a go.”
He poured some of the wine into two glasses. Taylor stared at the glass he offered as if it would bite her.
“It won't keep.”
She took the glass from him and watched while he swirled his and sniffed it like Lister had, then took a sip.
Peter's face lit up. “That is good, even if I do say so myself. Come on, try it.”
Taylor took a small sip. The wine rolled around her tongue and left a smoky taste as she swallowed.
Peter took another sip. “What do you think?”
“It tastes fine to me but I've no idea about wine. I feel bad I sold your last box.”
“Don't worry about it. I couldn't have managed without your help so we're even.”
Taylor took another sip. The wine was smooth and the taste lingered after she swallowed. She could get used to it.
Peter's brow furrowed. “There was no price. How much did you sell it for?”
Taylor set the half-drunk glass firmly on the bar. She'd quite enjoyed
herself even though the whole experience with the three men had been stressful. Now she was a bit worried. She'd sold his best wine.
“Ninety dollars.”
“For the box?” Peter took another sip of wine.
“No, per bottle.”
Taylor's eyes widened as he almost choked and spat his precious wine into the sink.
“Well, a bit less.” She'd obviously not charged enough. She'd thought Lister crazy to spend that much. Who paid all that money for wine? “I took ten dollars off because he bought what was left of the box,” she added.
Peter's lips twitched in a smile. “How did you come at that price?”
“I was put on the spot. Your other cabernet was thirty dollars. I thought I'd double it and then that Lister guy annoyed me, so I trebled it.” Taylor lifted her chin. “He was happy to pay.”
Peter started to laugh then he grabbed her and gave her a hug. “Well done, Taylor.”
Her cheeks suddenly felt warm. She'd thought him kind of pudgy when she first met him but now that she'd seen him without a shirt she knew his chest was tanned and chiselled. That same chest was now pressed against hers.
She put a hand to her cheek as he let her go. “I thought you meant I'd got it totally wrong.”
“We were selling it for fifty last year.”
“Oh, so I did charge too much.”
“It's aged well. Did he complain?”
“No.”
“Because he knew how good it was.” Peter chuckled even louder, rounded the counter and let himself out the door. Taylor watched him go, enjoying the deep sound of his laugh along with a warm feeling inside that she was the cause of it. She picked up the glasses from the bar and put them in the sink. He brought in the âOpen' sign and locked the front doors.
“Leave the glasses,” he said. “I'll wash them and do the stocktake tomorrow. It's Friday night and I do believe I owe you dinner.”
“You don't have to, Peter.”
“Call me Pete, please, all my friends do. Peter sounds so formal.”
“Well your offer is very kind, Pete, but I don't need you to buy me dinner.”
“It's the least I can do.” He offered the crook of his arm. “Taylor Rourke, you are one hell of a businesswoman.”
She took his arm, unable to resist the deep tenor of his voice and the look of delight in his clear blue eyes.
“Why thank you, kind sir. I'd be delighted.”
The front bar of the pub was noisy but the dining room less so. Pete guided Taylor that way with their drinks.
“What do you feel like eating?” He handed her a menu. “Their meals are all good but I can recommend their pies. My favourite is the beef and Guinness but the chicken's good too.”
“You've sold me on the beef and Guinness and I'm happy to pay for my meal.” Taylor held her glass up. “You've already bought me a beer.”
“I insist. A meal is cheap wages for what you've helped me with over the last two days.”
Taylor's smile stretched wider and her eyes sparkled. “Okay. I won't argue. Thank you.”
“Have a seat.” Pete pulled out a chair at the nearest table. “I'll place the order.”
He almost tripped on a chair leg in his hurry to get away from that mesmerising look. No wonder Ed was taken with her. Something Pete had to remind himself of. There was no point in losing his heart to Taylor. She was Ed's girl.
He chose a bottle of wine to go with the pies. By the time he got back to the table he had his wayward emotions under control.
“I'm sorry I didn't ask what kind of wine you like.” He put the bottle and two glasses on the table. “Or even if you like wine at all.”
“I feel it's wasted on me. I'm a beer drinker.”
“It takes a lot of beer to make a good wine.”
Taylor put her head to one side and studied him across the table. “Ed said something like that. I don't get it.”
“Winemakers work long hours without a break during vintage.”
Pete lifted his beer glass and took another mouthful.
A frown creased Taylor's brow.
“There's no better way to unwind after a fourteen-hour day in the cellar than with an icy-cold beer.” Pete grinned. “We usually go through quite a few along the way. So it takesâ”
“A lot of beer to make a good wine.” Taylor finished the sentence and laughed. “Now I get it.”
Pete finished his beer and poured two glasses of the red he'd bought.
“This is a cab sauv, grown by another local. A mate of mine. You'll find it a bit different to the one we drank this afternoon.” Pete tilted his glass towards his nose. He could smell the clove and blackcurrant. He took a sip, rolled it round his tongue and swallowed. “It's younger so the tannins are tight, but you get that earthy, blackcurrant flavour coming through on the palate.”
Taylor picked up her glass and took a sip. She smiled but he could see her lips pursed at the taste.
“Sometimes it takes a while to grow on you.”
“I'm gathering Coonawarra has something special going for it when it comes to red wine.”
“You might say that. It's the most renowned strip of terroir in Australia if not the world.”
“What'sâ¦how did you say it? Tear wah?”
“Terroir. It's a French word. It's how you describe all the climatic factors that influence a wine growing region. Like the soil, the wind, the rain and the sun. They all play a crucial part in growing grapes.”
“So what's so special about Coonawarra terroir?”
“We have the terra rossa; a dark red, iron-rich soil that sits on top of a deep ridge of limestone, coupled with a good water supply, cool nights and a long mild growing season. Put all those together with talented winemakers.”
“Which is where you come in.”
“Of course.” He grinned and she gave a deep warm chuckle. “So
all together, this region makes some of the best cabernet sauvignon and shiraz in the country, recognised around the world.”
“Hmmm.” Taylor took another sip of her wine. Her nose wrinkled ever so slightly.
“Would you prefer another beer?” He started to rise.
She reached across and put a hand on his arm. “No, really this is fine. I'm not much of a red wine drinker.”
Pete rose to his feet this time. “I'll get you a beer.” He set off before she could protest. He could easily forget not everyone appreciated wine like he did.
By the time he came back with her beer the pies had arrived.
“Thanks, Pete.”
Once more her warm smile sent a jolt of energy through him, stirring emotions he didn't want to acknowledge.
“My pleasure.” He sat down and tucked into the pie, trying his best to avoid her captivating gaze for a few minutes. Pete had enjoyed working with her. Once she'd overcome her initial reticence, she'd learned the job quickly and shown a quirky sense of humour. She was good fun but out of bounds.
“Have you always been a winemaker?”
Taylor's question forced him to look up. She glanced at him and took another bite of her food.
“It's all I've ever wanted to do. I guess it came from being immersed in it from birth. As soon as I was old enough I always had some brew or other fermenting in the laundry.”
“Your mum didn't mind?”
“I think she was used to it. Dad lived and breathed winemaking.” Pete felt a deep pang of loss. The suddenness of it surprised him. He clutched the wine glass and took a steadying mouthful.
“I'm sorry.” Taylor looked crestfallen. “I've just remembered Ed said your parents were killed in an accident.”
“No need to be sorry. It was years ago.” Pete took another sip of red. “Life goes on.”
“You still miss them though.”
“Very much.” It was out before Pete even thought about it.
“I didn't mean to stir up the past.” Her look was full of compassion.
“You didn't. I'm thankful.” Pete smiled and meant it. “I'm lucky to have so many good memories. Lots of people don't.” He didn't talk about his parents' loss to anyone anymore. Not even Ed. For everyone else life had gone on. It had taken Pete a while longer to come to terms with that. And he had for the most part. He was happy enough and doing what he loved. Just every so often he missed the conversations with his dad about wine and his mother's ready laugh. His parents had done everything together and for their family. Howard filled the breach a little when it came to winemaking and Noelene made him laugh from time to time like his mother had. He was also grateful for that.