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CHAPTER ONE
Hunter Rose waited at the airport in Eastport for the driver who was supposed to pick him up. His father, David Rose, the President of Rose Wines, located in California's Central Valley just outside Sacramento, had insisted that he have a driver while in Michigan. He had arranged for Hunter to be picked up from the airport, driven to his hotel, and available throughout his stay. The driver was named Randy, but Hunter did not know much else, and as he waited, he doubted the arrangement had been sealed.
He believed that his father meant well, but he didn't always come through with the details and often left Hunter fending for himself on business trips for the winery. It would be so much easier if he could just make the arrangements for himself, but his father's office handled trips and issued the itineraries, at least where he was concerned. His older brother Dave Jr. made his own decisions and his own plans, but then he was the heir apparent to the Rose Wines empire.
Hunter worked in marketing and was kept on a very short leash. He hoped to one day prove himself as a competent vintner, but as of yet, neither his father nor brother believed him worthy. Hunter had a few projects on the side away from the organization which he worked on, but he had yet to share them with anyone. At five feet four inches and less than one-hundred twenty-five pounds, he was rarely supported or taken seriously, regardless of the matter. He was seen as inconsequential.
He walked to the curb and decided it was time to catch a cab and head to the hotel. He'd made his own reservations at the Indigo just in case none had been made. If he had another room, he would cancel one. It was better to have two reservations than none, especially with an event like the wine experience put on by Cabot Wines from the Old Mission winery. Their events fill up fast, and it would be a shame to come all this way to be shut out of the hotel. It had happened to Hunter once before when he had depended upon his father's office to handle his lodging, and since then, he always booked a room himself.
The cab was quick and efficient, and Randy was long forgotten either they didn't hire anyone, and Randy was a fictitious driver, or Randy had stood him up. He shot a short text to his father's secretary, letting her know that Randy never showed. She didn't care, but it was protocol, so Hunter kept them informed.
Hunter found out while at the front desk that the room he booked was the only room that had been booked for him. He'd complain to his father's office, but it got him nowhere, and it always came around to being his fault in one way or another. Instead of complaining, he tried to anticipate how things could go wrong and prevent problems before they happened, but he wasn't always successful.
“Hunter!” Someone yelled from behind him. He glanced around hesitantly, unsure if they were speaking to him but then spotted George Crawly waving to him and heading in his direction. George was not scheduled for this trip, but here he was. No one had told him George was coming, but they rarely kept Hunter informed.
“George, I wasn’t aware you were attending this wine function. I thought you preferred California wines?” Hunter took his bag and began walking toward the elevators.
"It's always good to keep an eye on the competition no matter how obscure." Hunter wasn't sure what he was getting at with that statement, so he just nodded, smiled, and quickened his steps to the elevator. Thankfully, George did not follow, and he relaxed once the doors slid shut.
George worked with him in marketing and could not be trusted with even the smallest, most unimportant piece of personal information. He kept Dave Jr. and their father abreast of Hunter's every movement. Once Hunter figured him out, George got very little to report on apart from his own histrionic imaginings.
He had no idea why his father or Dave Jr. would be having him followed here in Michigan at this function. They didn't consider any vineyards outside of California to be worthy contenders or anyone to be worried about, and they certainly didn't worry about Hunter.
He opened his room door and quickly closed it in case George had followed him. He then secured a chair under the handle to make sure no one could force entry. George had been forceful in the past, and Hunter wasn't in the mood for his shit right now.
Hunter was there to research Cabot Wines, specifically their Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris, both of which Hunter hoped to introduce into the Rose Wines selection. He'd been experimenting with a few vines but wanted to get a clipping from the Mission Vineyard. It was unlikely, but it was a goal.
Cabot's has been producing the best Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris for decades, maybe longer, and has produced award-winning vintages of both. He knew he could learn something here if he could somehow beg his way onto their property. It was a long shot, but at the very least, he figured to get educated and gather advice.
The first of the scheduled activities was to begin at eight following dinner, so he sorted out his suitcase and, after checking the door one more time, headed to the bathroom for a shower. George was going to make the event less enjoyable, but he could still learn a lot from the people of Cabot Wines, and tonight, he intended to enjoy himself.
"I've asked for additional security for tonight to help guard the two ageless bottles of Pinot Noir and their jeweled case," Sam explained to his Uncle, Emmanuel Cabot, Master of the Mission Coven. They were part of the auction to be conducted tonight after the wine and appetizer party.
"Simeon will accompany you, Sam," Emmanuel stated, and Simeon, who was going over the hotel plans and layout, looked up when his name was mentioned. "I'd like for you to assist with surveillance of the main room containing the auction items throughout the party and to the completion of the auction."
"Yes, sir," Simeon responded, but his expression indicated that he was less than thrilled with the prospect. He hid his displeasure as best he could, but when Emmanuel began to chuckle, he knew he'd failed.
"Oh, Simeon, you will have a good time. The Indigo is a fine hotel; the wolves run it impeccably." Emmanuel provoked. “You need to get out more and socialize with the wolves.”
"It's not the wolves who annoy me. It's the humans, and hundreds of them will be throughout the hotel." Paranormals knew the score, and he could deal with them directly and honestly, whereas humans required so much care and attention they could be exhausting.
"Stay close to the auction site. It will be mostly hotel staff there until the auction starts. You won't run into too many humans." Sam humored him.
"I'll do that." Simeon's tone was still clipped. He didn't really mind. He liked the wolves. The Bay Harbor Wolf Pack was solid and honest, and their Alpha was a good man who could be trusted. The bonding of Master Cabot with the wolf shifter Taylor Bond had introduced a connection between the two communities, proving to be beneficial for all.
The Indigo Hotel was filled with guests attending the annual wine-tasting event put on by Cabot Wines of the Old Mission Peninsula. It was always a very profitable endeavor, and the credit was all Sam's. He was a master marketer and negotiator and was effective at making everyone feel welcome. Taylor was also presenting as very capable, and together, this year's event was larger and more spectacular than ever before.
They included the auction this year to bring awareness to certain wines, and all proceeds from the auction would be donated to a local charity. The bottles up for action were of considerable value and hence required security. If all went well, the auction would become a permanent part of the event each year. The wolves had placed considerable support behind the occasion, helping to keep the traffic flowing and keep everyone happy, safe, and entertained.
Sam and Taylor were working the wine bar while he and Seamus, one of the wolf enforcers, secured the main room. Two of the hotel security guards were just outside the auction room. The Pinot Noir was a hundred and twenty-five years old, and the two bottles were expected to fetch between ten and twelve thousand dollars. It didn't really call for this many guards to be present, but Sam thought it gave the auction an air of distinction.
Simeon walked the room and watched as attendees marveled at the offerings and networked with others in the business. After a couple of hours, he walked over to where Seamus was standing. "I'm going to do a loop of the outer room." He said, and Seamus nodded.
The auction was scheduled for later that night, and once completed, Simeon would return to the Coven. He was not actively participating in the wine-tasting extravaganza as Taylor had so aptly described the festivities. Simeon stuck to the security of the Coven and left the grapes and the wine to those who knew them best.
As he entered the outer ballroom, he felt something in the air. Something was shifting and making itself known. It was subtle and traveling on a soft breeze. Simeon took in the entire room and every person present, but nothing struck him as significant. He moved slowly around the room a second time, following the feeling that appeared to hold meaning.
After several deep breaths, the wave and its impact faded, wafting away as subtly as it had arrived. Simeon accepted that he would not have noticed it if it were unimportant, so he exited the room and entered the lobby. There were people everywhere, but not one possessed the fragrance he sought. He left the large spacious lobby and moved toward the grand staircase that led to the balcony that housed some specialty restaurants and other elite shops.
