Pierre’s lip curls in distaste, making me chuckle.
“I still do not understand how you can drink that terrible stuff.”
“And I don’t understand when you’re going to stop being a snob and try some of the good beers I’ve sampled. We live in Canada, you know, incredible craft beer is everywhere.”
“And you call yourself a sommelier.”
We both laugh at that. Pierre has teased me about my enjoyment of a good beer ever since we first met and I ordered a local lager instead of wine. He couldn’t understand how a professional sommelier and vintner could choose a drink other than wine, and thus began our ongoing debate.
When we go back outside, a freezing rain has started to fall. Winter over here isn’t the snow-filled wonderland people expect from Canada. No, the West Coast gets slush, rain, the occasional snow fall that cripples entire cities, and more rain. I glance up at the covered walkway I insisted on installing that connects the tasting room and storefront to the barn that houses the workhorses of the operation.
“Now do you see why this makes sense?” I ask, gesturing up. Having recently moved from the interior of the province, where the climate is far harsher with hotter summers and colder winters, Pierre just grunts. He doesn’t hide his distaste for the wetter weather.
We reach the tasting room, which is really only a shell of a building at present, nothing more than four walls and a roof. For now, we’re using it as a pseudo-office space, with a table and four chairs being the only furniture inside. At one time, it may have been a house, but it has clearly been renovated before, as it’s now a wide open space with surprisingly tall ceilings and plenty of windows. We lucked out that it didn’t need any major structural work, but outfitting it with shelving, lighting, seating, décor — all the trappings that make a tasting room appealing to visitors — that will take money and time. Two things we are short on. Pierre might have deep pockets, but there are better things to spend money on than extravagant designs.
For now, we’re producing just a few varietals that I’ve been able to create using equipment at another small, local winery. Now that our equipment is here, I can start to shift production on-site. But we’ll still be doing a gradual opening and release, and it won’t be until next year, or even the year after that until we’ll have a full complement of wines out and can even consider being profitable. In my opinion, that’s when we can spend the money fancying up the tasting room. For the time being, we just need to be able to open the doors, which means clean, simple, and tasteful should be the focus.
“I’ll see you here tomorrow at ten to meet with Ashley. And Finn, try to stay open-minded.” Pierre arches one eyebrow at me. He knows me well.
“I will, as long as it’s what is best for the winery.”
Picking up a folder from the table, Pierre walks over to me and claps his hand down on my shoulder. “That’s all I ask.”
Half an hour later, I push open the door to Hastings, the local bar, and let the warmth from inside hit me. It might be a Tuesday, but this place is busy like always. Dean Hastings, the owner, is a great guy, and he and his wife Riley just found out they’re pregnant. It’s high-risk because of her spinal cord injury, so I’m surprised to see him in here.
“Hey man, how’s Riley?” I ask as I take a seat at the bar. He slides over a bottle of my favourite craft beer.
“She’s doing good, thanks. We have a visit with the ob-gyn specialist next week which should include our first scan, and we’re both really excited about it. You meeting the guys here tonight?”
I nod and swallow my first sip of cool, crisp lager. “Yeah. I guess I’m the first one, as usual.”
Dean chuckles, then nods his head toward the door. “You didn’t beat them by long.”
I spin around and lift my beer in welcome to my friends. Ethan and I have known each other since university; I briefly dated his sister Mila. He’s the mayor in town, and she runs a bakery and café that serves the best damn food I’ve ever tasted, and given that I spent my summers in Europe, that’s saying something. With Ethan is Reid Corser, his friend from childhood and the elementary school principal. After Ethan settled down with Summer, who happens to be Mila’s best friend, Reid became my partner in hitting the bars in Victoria for some fun, but lately something’s changed, and he isn’t as eager to go out as he used to be. I’m hoping that once the school shuts down for Christmas vacation in a week or so, he'll be less stressed. Then again, I’m not in my twenties anymore, and hitting the bars doesn’t hold the same appeal for me, either. I’ll never admit it, but part of me wants what Ethan has. Just not right now. For the time being, the winery is my girlfriend and gets all of my time and loving attention.
“Hey guys, is Jackson coming tonight?” I ask, standing and walking over to a table that can seat us all.
“Nah, he and Mila have something planned.” Ethan drapes his jacket over a chair and settles in.
“Right. It has nothing to do with the glare you gave him when he and Mila announced they were moving in together.” Reid drops down into the other chair and places two more beers on the table that he must have grabbed from Dean.
“I’m perfectly fine with their relationship and they both know it.”
A bark of laughter escapes me. “Yeah, okay, dude. So you didn’t punch him when he accused Mila of lying to him?”
“He fucking earned that,” Ethan growls in response, tossing a glare my way. “Enough talk of my sister. Please. Can we just drink beer and talk about sports or something?”
I toss a pretzel at him from the bowl Dean gave us. The fucker catches it in his hand and pops it in his mouth.
“Show off,” I tease good-naturedly.
Ethan shrugs. “You’re just jealous.”
Sad, but true. In more ways than one.
Chapter two
Ashley
