Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Annalise lifted one brow. “Savannah Storm?”
I shrugged. “Even her name is badass, isn’t it?”
She shook her head, and I saw the splinter of a smile threatening. “And how exactly was I to know what a badass Savannah was simply from your doodle?”
Somehow I managed to maintain a serious face. “She was wearing a cape, wasn’t she?”
Annalise cracked and laughed. “I’m sorry. I must’ve missed that big clue due to the fact that each one of her breasts was larger than my head. I mean, her IQ should have been obvious from the cape.”
I shrugged. “It happens. But you should really watch jumping to those rash judgments. Some people might be offended and think you’re objectifying women.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good. Then maybe we can get to the important accounts now—mine.”
Chapter 5
* * *
Annalise
I tried to warn him.
Even last night, when we’d finished going over our accounts together, I again attempted to bring up today’s pitch to Bianchi Winery. But the smug jerk stopped me before I could explain why I knew he didn’t have a shot in hell at landing the account.
So screw it, I hope he wasted his entire morning on a dog-and-pony show that was totally unnecessary.
I mumbled to myself as I pulled down the half-mile-long dirt road and parked by the giant weeping willow. Coming here always brought a wave of calm over me. Being greeted by rows and rows of neatly planted grapevines, swaying willow trees, and stacked barrels let the serenity seep in through my pores. Getting out of my car, I closed my eyes, took a deep, cleansing breath in, and exhaled some of the stress from the week. Peace.
Or so I thought.
Until I opened my eyes and noticed a car parked off to the right, next to the big, old green tractor. And that car was almost identical to mine.
He’s still here.
Bennett’s appointment had been at ten o’clock this morning. I glanced at the time on my watch, double-checking that I wasn’t hours early. But I wasn’t. It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon. I’d figured he’d be long gone by the time I arrived. What the hell could they have been talking about for five hours?
Knox, the vineyard manager, walked out of the small retail shop carrying a crate of wine just as I finished getting my files out of the car. He’d worked at the winery since before the first grape seeds were sowed.
“Hey, Annie.” He waved.
I slammed the trunk shut and swung my leather art attaché over my shoulder. “Hey, Knox. You need me to open my trunk again so you can stash my weekend bottles?” I teased.
“Pretty sure I could stash every last bottle in your trunk and Mr. Bianchi wouldn’t mind.”
I smiled. He was sort of right about that. “Is Matteo in the office or up at the house? I have a business meeting with him.”
“Last I saw, he was walking the fields with a visitor. But they might be in the cellar by now. I think he was giving him the full tour.”
“Thanks, Knox. Don’t let them work you too hard!”
The door to the office wasn’t locked, but no one was inside. So I set my presentation stuff down on the reception desk and went looking for where everyone was hiding. The retail shop door was open, but no one answered when I called. I was just about to turn and head up to the main house when I heard the echoing of voices as I passed by the door leading from the shop to the wine cellar and tasting room.
“Hello?” I carefully navigated the stone stairwell in my high heels.
Matteo’s voice, speaking in Italian, boomed in the distance. But when I reached the bottom, the only person I found was Bennett. He was sitting at one of the alcove tasting tables, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his tie loosened, and a wine glass taster flight on the table in front of him. Three of the four glasses were empty.
“Drinking on the job?” I arched a brow.
He linked his fingers behind his head and leaned back to revel in his smugness. “What can I say? The owners love me.”
I held back my laughter. “Oh, do they? So you haven’t let them see the real you, then?”
Bennett flashed a smile. A gorgeous one. Jerk.
“You wasted a trip out here, Texas. Tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”
I sighed. “Where’s Matteo?”
“He just got a call and stepped into the fermentation room.”
“Have you seen Margo?”
“She ran out to the grocery store.”
“What are you still doing here, anyway? Were you late for your presentation?”
“Of course not. Matteo offered to give me a tour so I could see the new vines they planted this year, and then Margo insisted I do a full tasting. I’m like one of the family now.” He leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “Although I’m pretty sure Mrs. Bianchi’s into me. Like I said, you got no shot at winning this one.”