“Okay,” she repeated, softer this time.
After Saffron gotin her truck and left, I called Bit.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Here. At the Stonehouse.”
“Be there in a minute.”
He and Eberly were waiting near the entrance when I arrived at the original winery building that sat at the heart of Los Caballeros.
“We found the formula for the Christmas wine,” I blurted as I got out of my truck.
His eyebrows shot up. “That’s—wow. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, and now, I need your help.”
“You got it. What can I do?”
“It’s about Saffron.”
Slow grins spread across both his face and Eberly’s as they motioned for me to follow them.
“Oh no,” Eberly said once we were inside. “He’s got that look.”
“What look?” I asked.
“The one that means we’re about to help you do something ill-advised,” Bit responded.
“It’s not ill-advised. I just—” I ran a hand through my hair. “I want to take her to dinner tonight. To celebrate finding the formula. But not just any dinner. Something…I don’t know. Special. Private. Romantic. All of that.”
Bit gestured around us. “What about here?”
I looked at the space like I was seeing it for the first time. The original fermentation room stretched before us—massive stone walls, with its exposed wood beams crossing the vaulted ceiling. Lights were strung above the tables, where candles and floral arrangements already sat.
I could see the garden courtyard through the floor-to-ceiling windows and could imagine Saffron along the pathways that wound through wild roses, ivy, and lavender.
“Can I?” I asked.
“It’s not booked tonight,” Bit said, looking at Eberly. “What do you think?”
She smiled. “It’s perfect. Give me until five o’clock, and I’ll have everything ready.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” She squeezed my arm. “You said you wanted special, private, and romantic. There isn’t anywhere on the Central Coast that fits the bill better than this does. Now, I need to put the menu together.” She looked at Bit. “Then you can do the wine pairings.”
After she left, Bit gestured for me to sit at the bar. I rested my arms on its top as exhaustion settled over me.
“So, you’re really doing this,” he said.
“Making the wine? Yep. Sure are.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re going all in with Saffron?”
I thought about arguing, but what was the point? “Yeah. I am.”
“Good.” He took a sip from the coffee cup I hadn’t noticed he brought with him. “She’s worth it.”
