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“I feelbad you have to drive.”
I pulled up to a lesser-known winery on the east side of Owasco Lake. The owner had been an old friend of the family before he passed. The winery was sold to his granddaughter, Mariah Hill, who I had heard of but never met before. Apparently, the woman’s mother wanted nothing to do with the wine business, but as an up-and-coming vintner, Fox Hill’s new owner was making waves in the industry. Brooke had set up a meeting with her, knowing I was interested in making GVV a carbon-neutral vineyard someday, and Mariah Hill was already well on her way.
“It’s fine. After this tasting, we’ll head back to the inn. I made a reservation in town. Figured we might want something different tonight. If that works for you?”
Thayle pretended to think about it. “Hmm. Staying at one of the nicest places I’ve ever been, getting a massage, wine tastings, dinners, and not paying a dime because I’m”—she made air quotes—“‘working’? Yeah, I think it’s fine.”
That was one of the things I loved most about Thayle, her sense of humor.
“Oh, wait.” I stopped walking. “I nearly forgot.”
“Your keys?”
“No. To ask what you were laughing about this morning.”
Thayle smiled and shook her head as she resumed walking up the hill toward the winery.
It had been worth a shot. Throughout the day, at random times, I asked her to tell me, knowing that at this point, on pure principle alone, she wouldn’t give it up.
After the spa, we’d been all business. I hadn’t stayed in the room long enough after my shower to allow myself to get any more worked up than I was already after the massages. Instead, I’d made a few calls and pretended Thayle and I hadn’t shared a look. I don’t know what had made me drop the pretense I’d spent years honing. But I had. And instead of being appalled at my lack of decorum, the side of her breast too enticing not to notice, she’d done just the opposite.
In those few seconds, or minutes, or whatever it was since time seemed to stand still, there was no doubt in my mind. It was the opening I’d dreamed of, and dreaded. Since the spa, we’d kept it light. Talked about the vineyard and her ideas for the wine club and the new VIP experience ideas she had. We discussed shipments and pickup days, bottling and the harvest. The only thing we didn’t discuss was the massage, beyond her thanking me profusely for it.
“Welcome to Fox Hill,” said a tasting room attendant, smiling brightly at us.
Unlike Grado Valley, which consisted of two separate wineries, on-site lodgings and two large, outdoor lawn areas plus a courtyard and cafe, this vineyard was small. A converted barn was decorated beautifully, and sat on the lake, giving customers a prime view, but it was an entirely different experience from GVV. It was a stop, more than a destination.
What intrigued me here was the most important thing of all, the wine. Their two-year-old chardonnay vintage was highly rated, so I promptly tried and enjoyed it. I had a lot of questions, since that hadn’t been a particularly good year for chardonnay at Grado. Though our climates were the same, the soil wasn’t, and that made all the difference. Still, I couldn’t wait to pick her brain.
“You are Antonio Grado?” the attendant asked.
“I am. And this is Thayle Burke. She is Grado’s wine club manager.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the college girl said. There were a ton of community colleges all around the Finger Lakes, not to mention Cornell and a few other schools, and most of the wineries partnered with them both for internships and paid employment. “Mariah is running a few minutes behind. She asked me to do a tasting while we wait. Is that okay?”
“Absolutely,” I said as she escorted us to the bar.
Being a Monday at the beginning of November, there were only a few people lingering. It was a challenging month to attract anyone other than locals, and I sympathized. Still, the tasting room was well-appointed. Quaint. From where we stood at the bar, a stunning view of the lake greeted us.
“Nice view,” I said.
“Isn’t it? So...” She slid two wine menus in front of us. “Take a look and let me know if you have any questions. Unlimited tastings, of course.”
Owner to owner, typically there was never a limit. But really the chard was the only thing I wanted to talk to Mariah about.
Just then, my cell rang. Thayle’s did too. Odd. It was Min, attempting a video call. I could count on one hand the number of times she called via video.
“Will you excuse us for a second?” I asked the attendant. Thayle and I headed outside to the deck, which was empty. Unlike the warm weekend we’d just had, more seasonable weather had returned today, and the chill to the air drove tastings inside.
I clicked my phone just as Thayle sidled up to me. Min’s face popped up.
“My two favorites,” she exclaimed.
In order to see her, Thayle moved closer. We were both wearing long sleeves, but still, the touch didn’t go unnoticed. At least by me.
“I distinctly remember you telling me just last week Cosimo was your favorite.”
