Page 5 of A New Year In The Presidential Suite

Lori took another sip and allowed the wine to slide easily down her throat. Maybe Griff was right. It was a way to relax. But after dating an alcoholic more than one time, she knew she’d never go overboard. Life was too precious.

Griff took a small notebook out of his pocket and made a few notes. “If I’m going to write off some of the trip as a business expense, I have to do some work.”

“Lucky you have work like this,” teased Lori with a mischievous grin.

Griff shook his head. “Most people don’t realize that owning and working on a vineyard makes someone a farmer, nothing more glamorous than that. Until it’s time to schmooze with the customers. Then we want owning a vineyard to appear as delightful as our wines.”

Lori noticed the calluses on Griff’s broad hands and realized he meant what he said. They were farmers’ hands.

They talked easily with one another. Knowing Griff wasn’t interested in dating, and for a very understandable reason, Lori let herself relax with him. He told her more about his work with the winery, and when pressed, she told him about the day-care center where she worked.

“Guess you have to like children a lot to work with them every day,” Griff said.

“I do. I’ve always thought I would have children of my own. My husband, Nick, and I were planning to start a family when he was diagnosed with cancer. We’d talked about having three children.” Her voice faded as the memory came back of hearing about his death sentence—a maximum of twelve months to live. He died ten months later.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” said Griff. “I didn’t mean to bring up sensitive things.”

“It’s all right,” said Lori. She drew her lips in a straight line. “I’m still angry about it, though. It was so unfair. Nick was an outstanding man, too young to die. At home, I try not to show how I feel. My family is worried about me. That’s why they gave me this trip.”

Griff studied her. “I’m glad you could tell me the truth. I get it. My case is very different, but I’m pissed off by what happened to me, even though I know it’s for the best.”

“No one wants to be stood up before a wedding,” said Lori. “No matter what.” She finished the last of her wine.

“Care for another?” he asked. “A different pinot noir? You can tell me which you like better.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Lori, pleased he wanted her opinion.

After their drinks came, Griff cautioned her to take another cracker before sampling the wine.

They followed the earlier procedure of inhaling the bouquet and letting the wine roll around in their mouths to experience its flavor before swallowing.

“Well? What do you think?” Griff asked.

“I don’t like it as much. It’s got a harsher taste to me,” Lori said.

“It has a lot more tannins, for sure,” said Griff. “Let’s let it air a bit.”

“Do you drink a lot of wine?” Lori asked and then felt her cheeks turn pink.

He grinned and shook his head. “No. When sampling wine, one should follow our example and then, after tasting the wine, spit it out. Otherwise, you’d have a real drinking problem. Visitors to the winery don’t do that, which is why a lot of them get hammered on wine tours.”

Lori was relieved he wasn’t going to get drunk. She hoped they could spend some time together. It was a relief to sit with a man and know neither of them was ready for anything more.

“What are your dinner plans?” Griff asked her.

“I have reservations in another twenty minutes,” she said, checking her watch.

“Me, too. Want to sit together?”

“I’d like that,” she said. “Not a date. Just sharing a table.”

“Exactly,” Griff said. “You know what my situation is. And I know yours.”

“That works for me,” said Lori, meaning it.

CHAPTER FOUR

GRIFF