Page 7 of A New Year In The Presidential Suite

Griff chuckled. “I don’t have any experience with kids. They seem scary with all their demands.”

“My job as a Virtual Assistant is a nice complement to my work at the school,” said Lori. “You said earlier you live and work with your grandfather at the vineyard. No other family?”

He shook his head. “No. My parents were killed in a freak automobile accident when I was just four. My other grandparents were deceased, and neither parent had siblings. So, it’s just me and Grandad.”

“Still, it sounds like a pretty lonely childhood,” said Lori.

“Not really. Grandad hired a couple to live on the farm. Sarita, my grandfather’s housekeeper, took on the role of mothering me while raising her own son, Pete, who’s my best friend. Pete’s father, Carlos, is still the foreman. We all work closely together.”

“How old is the vineyard?” asked Lori.

“Grandad bought the land in 1965. In 1968, America’s first agricultural preserve was established in the valley, marking a significant milestone that announced to the world that agriculture was the highest and best use of the land. And when the Paris Tasting of 1976 gave awards to Napa Valley wines, things took off. By that time, my grandfather’s vineyard was established. Because it has been in operation for so long, we’ve been able to take advantage of the changes that have occurred in the industry. The demand for outstanding wine is always present, though there are occasional ups and downs. Recently, the overall consumption of wine has decreased. But Adeline Hills wine is exceptional and is still in demand.”

“Yes, true wine drinkers want an excellent wine,” said Lori, taking another sip from her glass.

“We produce a limited amount each year, and each vintage is often sold ahead of harvest. My grandad is excellent at what he does, or perhaps I should say has done. He’s more than ready to retire now. Pete and I are assuming more and more of the responsibilities. Though I’ll own the vineyard one day, Pete will have a share of the business. It’s a lot of work. Too much for one person.”

“I like that you and your long-time friend are working together,” said Lori.

“He’s family, really,” said Griff. “How about you? What family do you have?”

“I have two older sisters, and we are close. My parents are happily married. My father is an accountant in town, and my mother is a librarian. They’re kind, loving people. I’m lucky.”

“Do you all live in the same town?” he asked.

“My middle sister lives one town over. The rest of us live in Ellenton, New York,” Lori said. “It’s a convenient place to live. We’re away from the city but can get there a reasonable number of times if we want to make the two-hour trip.”

“It sounds like a perfect setup,” said Griff, sitting back and studying her. “I’m curious about your name. Loralie is unusual.”

“She was a character in a book my mother loved. My sisters are Aurelia and Florence. Two more names my mother loved in books that she read.”

“I like it. They’re old-fashioned names. My grandmother was Adeline.” Griff stopped speaking as his features softened with regret. His childhood wasn’t as happy as he’d made it seem. He’d missed his parents, his mother especially.

“Being orphaned at four years of age would be tough for any child,” Lori said softly, tuned into his feelings.

He was relieved she hadn’t impulsively reached over and squeezed his hand.

Their food came, and Lori settled down to enjoy her meal. No doubt about it. The food was as delicious as she’d heard.

For dessert, they each had a delicate orange and raspberry sherbet.

After they left the restaurant, they paused together in the lobby.

“Would you like a nightcap?” Griff asked. “We could sit outside, or you could come to the Presidential Suite, where I’m staying.”

Lori felt heat rise in her cheeks. Had he changed his mind? Did he want to get involved?

Griff placed a hand on her shoulder. “Friends. Remember?”

She let out a sigh of relief, and they both chuckled at the awkwardness they’d felt.

“Well, as long as we understand one another, I’d love to see the Presidential Suite,” Lori said. “I bet it’s beautiful.”

He held out his arm to her, and she looped hers through it.

CHAPTER FIVE

LORI