"That's exactly what Walter wants. Build Stone Bridge's reputation as a source for investment-quality wines."
"Smart strategy. And honestly, long overdue. We've got the quality, we've got the terroir, we just haven't been positioning ourselves properly in those high-end markets." Gabe closed the binder and leaned forward. "I want to see this authentication program succeed. Whatever you need—access to records, introductions to staff, someone to bounce ideas off—I'm your guy."
“And my past, what happened with Harold, doesn’t bother you?”
“Bother? No. Concern? I can admit to having some reservations. Not about your talent. Or your qualifications. Just about the optics.”
“Yeah, those are a bit problematic now, aren’t they?”
“Riley has a plan.”
“She has me doing an interview with the local paper early next week. She believes we need to control the narrative.”
“She’s a smart one,” Gabe said. “The Boones... they're good people. They gave me a chance when I was just some kid with a degree and big dreams, and they've supported me ever since." His expression grew thoughtful. "Walter especially."
There was something in his voice—deep respect mixed with genuine affection—that told Emery this wasn't just professional loyalty.
"It shows. How the place runs, how people talk about the family. It's not just a business, is it?"
"No, it really isn't. It's a legacy. Something built to last." Gabe glanced out his office window at the production floor, where workers were checking equipment with the focused intensity of people preparing for something important. "That's what harvest is really about—not just making wine but continuing something that started long before us and will hopefully continue long after we're gone."
“Your degree was as a vintner, right?”
Gabe nodded. “I work closely with Bryson, making sure we’ve got the right blend. I’ve learned a lot from him.”
“Have you ever thought about looking for a head winemaker position?”
Gabe shrugged. “Not really. I don’t need the accolades. I like what I do here. I get to oversee all aspects of production. My hands are dirty from planting to bottling to distribution. It’s a thrilling position. In my opinion, there’s no better winery in all of Napa Valley.”
“That’s quite the compliment.”
As if summoned by their conversation, Devon appeared in the office doorway. "Ready to head back? Dad wants to go over the quarterly reports before lunch."
"Actually, before heading out,” Gabe said, his expression growing more serious. “I meant to ask this last night. Are we planning to send something to the Callaways as a group? I'd like to contribute if we are."
Devon looked surprised. "Mom's organizing a food delivery schedule. Dad wanted to send a nice arrangement. And we’re going to take up a collection to donate to his favorite charity."
“I didn’t know David well. Actually, tried to avoid him and his family. But he was always kind to me at industry events, and when Olivia miscarried, he and his wife sent a nice arrangement.” Gabe paused, glancing between Devon and Emery. "If possible, I'd also like to attend calling hours," Gabe continued. "I know it might be awkward given… my last name, but David was a decent man. I'd like to pay my respects."
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but can I ask what your name has to do with you going to a funeral?” Emery asked, that gnawing sensation that she should know more ate at her.
Gabe shifted uncomfortably. "My grandfather worked for Jasper Callaway," Gabe explained. "Back when Jasper was running his... less legitimate operations alongside the winery.When everything came crashing down and Jasper went to prison, so did my grandfather, and my family lost everything. My parents moved away from Stone Bridge before I was even born.”
"Oh, I hadn’t made the connection," Emery said softly. “I’ve heard the story over the years.”
"There are a few people who never put it together, but it’s also something I don’t advertise." Gabe's smile was rueful. "David always treated me with respect and never made me feel like I had to answer for my grandfather's choices. That meant something."
"Once we hear what the arrangements are, we'll find out who from the staff wants to attend and try to accommodate everyone. I think it would be appropriate for you to go, Gabe,” Devon said. “And for the record, your grandfather's mistakes aren't yours to carry."
Gabe smiled. "That's very generous of you to say."
"It's not generous, it's the truth." Devon checked his watch. "But we really should head back before Dad sends out a search party."
Emery stood and extended her hand to Gabe. "Thank you for taking the time to walk me through everything. And for being so open about your background. It can't have been easy growing up with that kind of shadow."
"It wasn't," Gabe admitted, shaking her hand. “But just like you, the Boones gave me a second chance. Welcome to the family," he added with a genuine smile. "I think we're going to do some amazing work together."
As they left his office and headed back toward the main house, Emery found herself thinking about second chances and the weight of family history. She understood better than most what it felt like to carry someone else's mistakes, to have your own reputation tainted by association.
