Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
But here, in her letters, she could let her admiration pour out, almost in a therapeutic way.
And so, instead of being responsible and outlining a way out of #thatclutterlife, she found herself turning to a fresh page.
Dear Julian . . .
Chapter Nine
Julian ran extra hard the next afternoon.
He’d woken with purpose that morning. Plowed through four writing sprints, made himself a protein shake, and now he was focused on beating yesterday’s running time.
Yes, that was the plan—and he’d be sticking to it.
Unfortunately, his feet had other ideas. When Julian spied the line outside of UNCORKED, the loitering mass of people blocking the entrance to Corked, he jogged to a stop and frowned. At them. At himself for once again being unable to stay on schedule.
Initially, the unfairness of UNCORKED’s success had gotten under his skin. They were making a mockery of the long-standing shop next door and, frankly, insulting the whole process of wine tasting by turning it into a stunt. A thumbing of the nose at the wine industry wouldn’t normally bother Julian, except that everything these assholes did bothered him now.
Because they upset Hallie.
He loathed her being upset. The real version of her and the fantasy version.
She should always be smiling. Simple as that.
Was there something he could do about this?
Back in high school and even slightly beyond, he’d been more inclined to reach out a helping hand to those who needed it. He’d gotten involved. Tried to make himself useful. Somewhere along the line, he’d become focused on his own agenda, never glancing right or left.
Hallie’s passionate defense of Corked had really brought that into focus, and he couldn’t seem to continue on his merry way this afternoon. If Hallie could burgle hundreds of dollars’ worth of cheese, he could certainly make his presence known.
In the process, perhaps he could help Corinne. And Lorna.
After he’d finished picking grapes yesterday, he’d invited Manuel into the guesthouse for coffee and . . . yeah. Suffice it to say, the manager had pulled off Julian’s blinders. Corinne was doing an admirable job of maintaining the winery, but quality had begun to fall by the wayside in favor of expediency. Vos Vineyard needed money, so they churned out wine, but the superiority they once claimed had been slowly waning.
His mother had not asked him for help. Maybe that was in deference to his father’s wishes or perhaps she didn’t have any faith in Julian, either. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t stay on the sidelines and watch his family legacy fade into obscurity. Nor did he want his mother carrying this load by herself when he was willing and able to pitch in. Was Hallie’s refusal to let UNCORKED bully her friend’s shop responsible for this head of steam?
Yes. In a way, perhaps it had reminded him that legacy was important.
Maybe there was a way to give Vos Vineyard a boost and make Hallie happy in the process. The possibility of a Hallie Smile over something he did made his pulse knock around.
Refusing to let himself hesitate any longer, Julian made his way through the line of tipsy tourists who would probably benefit from sitting out their next tasting, and walked into Corked. He was greeted by soft music and lighting, and a woman with a lined, smiling face behind the register. She couldn’t quite manage to hide the fact that he’d startled her by simply walking in.
“Hello,” sang the woman, who had to be Lorna. “Are you . . . here for the tasting?”
“Yes,” he lied briskly, perusing the shelves, relieved and maybe even slightly prideful to see a wide selection of Vos wines for sale. “What is on deck today . . . ?”
“Lorna. This is my shop.” She emerged from behind the counter, fussing with her hair. “To be totally honest with you, I didn’t think anyone was showing up, so I haven’t even set up glasses.” She rushed to the back of the store, clearly excited to have some life within the shop’s walls. “Choose any bottle you want and we’ll crack it open. How about that?”
Julian nodded after her, continuing his trip up and down the aisles, circling back to the front of the store. Behind the register was a black-and-white picture of Lorna as a young woman holding hands with a man outside on the sidewalk, the Corked storefront in the background. The man was her husband, most likely. Both of them looked so optimistic. Proud. Ready to take on the future. No inkling that someday a disco ball would be stealing their business. No wonder Hallie was fighting the decline of Corked so fiercely.
That sealed it. He was going to be the best customer this woman ever had.
As he waited for the older woman to set up two glasses and produce a corkscrew from her apron, Julian selected a Vos Vineyard Cab from 2019. Ideas to aid Lorna formed, one after the other. Some bigger than others. But he thought it best not to overwhelm the woman all at once.