“But what’s the story going to be?” Laine asks, her undeniable interest taking over. “How does Bluebell Vineyards represent a true showcase of what Blue Ridge has to offer?”
“It’s our existing partnerships—ourfriendships—with local businesses that matter here. Every single stand in our Saturday farmers’ markets could add to our appeal. Fresh butter from Mountain Farms’ creamery spread across crusty loaves of sourdough from Dana’s bakery. Old Pete’s boiled peanuts stand set right next to Mercier’s apple pies and hot cider. We’ll have something for everyone because we’refriendswitheveryone.”
“When you’re here, you’re family!” Teddy announces.
Laine frowns. “Isn’t that … Olive Garden?”
“No,” he says indignantly, as though he doesn’t drive an hour to get his unlimited breadsticks on cheat days.
I point at him. “It absolutely is, and you know it. But I’m thinking more like:Welcome home to Bluebell Vineyards. Welcome home to Blue Ridge.”
“Hear, hear!” Teddy says, then knocks his glass of wine back. “Go on and take my money!”
“Gladly.” Teddy’s enthusiasm smooths over my grated mood, and a real smile lifts the corners of my mouth. I chance a look at Laine, willing her to put aside her snobbery and apply her singular focus to helping me win the showcase. So, she doesn’t like our wines. So I want to throw her out a window. That doesn’t mean we can’t be on the same team, right? The way she returns my gaze, steady, cautious, and grudgingly respectful, makes my heart lift an inch in my chest. This time it’smyambition drawing her in, charging her up.
Maybe this will work out, after all.
“Step one is getting an endorsement from Mayor Esposito.” I tap my finger on the timeline in the binder and grimace slightly. “Rachel’s number one fan.”
CHAPTER SIX
With each ring of the phone in my ear, I groan a little louder. I’ve been trying all week to reach Elisa, Mayor Esposito’s aide, to get on her calendar. I’ve called, emailed, left messages with the receptionist, and filled Elisa’s voicemail box to the brim, but no luck. All I need is a measly five minutes to present my pitch for the showcase, but I’m starting to think Elisa’s screening my calls.
For the hundredth time this week, I curse myself for mentioning the showcase as the reason for my calls. I’ve never had trouble getting time with the mayor before, and Elisa’s as diligent as they come. If she’s not answering my messages, she’s either dead or doing it on purpose.
The rings stop, and Elisa’s automated message clicks on. I’m pondering switching tactics—perhaps a purported Bigfoot sighting will get me a call back—when a bubble of laughter sounds from outside my window. A blur of blonde curls about knee-high giggles by, followed by my cousin River. He’s doing some kind of gorilla-armed chase after little Bowie, while Hannah stands there, hands pressed to her stomach and laughing.
I smile wistfully at their sweet little family, then go out to meet them.
“Hey, fam!” I call out, glad that it’s true. A grunt and a delighted squeal later, Bowie’s hanging upside down laughing hysterically over his soon-to-be-stepdad River’s back, and River’s grinning, too, if winded.
“I swear, I’m gonna get one of those kid leashes and strap you to my side, boy,” Hannah says, wagging her finger playfully at her son, who now sits atop River’s shoulders looking pleased as hell. Bowie got that cloud ofgolden curls from his mama, but right now, they’re making him look like a mischievous clown child.
“If the suspect has been secured, I can show y’all where I’m thinking for the ceremony and reception, and we can talk infrastructure.”
“Lead on, cousin,” River says, his face the picture of easy happiness. With his hands cupping Bowie’s little legs to his chest, we set out into the lovely afternoon, wending our way through rows of vines.
“I’ve been thinking about the VIP experiences you mentioned.” Hannah pulls out a fat sketchbook from her tote bag and flips to a dog-eared page somewhere in the middle. “With your theme of ‘Welcome Home to Bluebell Vineyards,’ you’re presenting this idea of modern southern hospitality, right? And I thought: What if we built a line of firepits flanked by open-front canvas tents with cozy seating, mood lighting, and blankets? We could stock them with s’mores kits and hot chocolate, and if we set them up here”—Hannah stops to gesture at the stretch of unused land on the hill nearest to the winery—“the VIP guests would still feel a part of the festivities but with just enough privacy to feel special. What do you think?”
I throw my arm around Hannah’s shoulders and squeeze her tight. “I think you’re a genius, Hannah Tate.”
Hannah flushes a little and smiles. “I’ve got more ideas, too, for the viewpoints’ designs.”
It’s been so gratifying seeing Hannah embrace her inherent talents and taste, her confidence and business acumen growing by the day. It’s like watching a flower bloom in fast motion. “I want to hear them all.”
We walk past the western edge of our vineyards, past the newly budding Seyval Blanc and Catawba vines, to where the hill dips into a beautiful clearing, the old-growth pine and birch forest towering behind it. I step ahead and walk backward, arms raised.
“Most weddings want the mountain views, but with your Tolkienesque theme, I figured the forest backdrop would be more appropriate.”
River’s face breaks into a delighted sunny grin. “Tom Bombadil–approved.” He offers me a fist bump, which is so surprisingly 2000s I actually bump him back before I can ask who the hell Tom Bombadil is.
River sets Bowie down, and with a firm grip on his tiny hand, walks him around the area explaining his ideas for the platform he’s going to build for the ceremony. When they return, River says, “Okay, this spot is a winner. Bowie gives two thumbs-up.” To confirm the statement, Bowie lifts his hand and flips us all off.
“He’s working on it,” Hannah explains, smiling with such love, it makes me laugh.
“We could set up the bride and groom’s tents over there, flanking the entrance of the ceremony area, with a makeshift stable for our horses set uphere—”
I hold up a hand. “Whoa, horses? Just how far is this Lord of the Rings theme going?”
