“The research I read said that it’s difficult to grow anywhere but the Jura region because of how thin the skins are.” Megan steered the car toward the entrance of Baur Cellars. “It’s even difficult to grow there. But we do have the right kind of soil for it—it likes limestone and shale soils.”
“Depending on what rootstock they graft it to,” Toni said, “they might be able to tweak some of those characteristics without affecting the flavor of the grapes too much.”
“The science of grape cloning is fascinating,” Katherine said. “I’m tempted to try my hand at it just for fun.”
“It’s also an art,” Megan said. “I can’t believe I used to take good wine for granted. It’s so much more complicated than I realized.”
“You can still take it for granted,” Toni said. “There is nothing glamorous about winemaking. Do you know how many half-full two-liter soda bottles were sitting at my house a few months ago? All because Henry couldn’t decide just how much merlot to blend with the cabernet franc for Nico’s estate blend. I couldn’t wash any clothes for weeks. Fancy grape juice had taken over my laundry room.”
Megan loved hearing Toni bitch about domestic life. It was glaringly obvious that she adored her boyfriend, and Henry treated Toni like a queen.
“Okay, here we are.” Megan pulled into the Baur parking lot, happy to see it was half-full. She didn’t want to be too conspicuous. “Should we split up? You and Toni go into the tasting room, and I’ll wander aimlessly and snoop. I can play dumb if anyone catches me.”
“Sure.” Toni heaved herself out of the car and braced her hand on the seat for a second. “Hold on.” She put a hand under her massive belly, and for a second Megan felt a stir of alarm. Toni waved at her. “Relax. Your worry is shouting at me; I’m fine. Just pulled a belly muscle or something.” She leaned to the side and lifted a leg. “There we go.”
Katherine was standing to the side, her eyes wide. “I am so glad—”
“Yes, yes!” Toni cut her off. “It’s alarming and unnatural how big the belly is now. I never planned on having a giant’s baby, but love makes you stupid.”
“The female body is a marvel,” Katherine said. “I almost wish I’d experienced pregnancy on a scientific level. I’m so curious.”
“But you never wanted kids?” Megan asked.
“Oh no.” Katherine shook her head. “Baxter and I both love our nephews and nieces, but we were very satisfied without children. We enjoy the quiet.”
“That’s an excellent reason not to have kids.” Megan laughed. “I don’t think my house was quiet for a fifteen-year stretch.”
Toni sent her a withering glance. “Don’t tell me things like this.”
“I had three!” She shooed Katherine and Toni toward the tasting room. “Three, Toni. And I’m sure your kid will be much quieter than mine were.”
Toni’s glare told Megan she didn’t believe her.
She shouldn’t. All babies were noisy and messy and chaotic. That was half the fun. Luckily, she had no doubt her friend would fall head over heels for the tiny chaos agent she was nearly finished baking in that giant belly. Megan turned and made a show of studying her purse as she wandered past the parking lot and into the working area of the winery.
As she walked, she pulled her blond hair back into a low ponytail and grabbed a pair of blue-light glasses from her purse. She didn’t need them, but the stereotype was true. People assumed women in glasses were smart. She regularly used clear glasses to balance out people’s dismissal of blond hair.
Once she made it past the customers lingering on the edge of the parking area, she looked around for a prop. She saw a clipboard sitting on a chair behind a warehouse and walked toward it. Perfect. Everyone looked like they were working when they had a clipboard.
Megan picked it up, grabbed a pen from her bag, then slung her purse around her neck and toward the back of her body before she put on her glasses and marched past what sounded like the fermentation warehouse and toward a low row of farm offices on the edge of the vineyards.
She kept her eyes moving as she walked, looking for anything that looked like a greenhouse, but she didn’t see anything. Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice her as she snooped around the winery. She walked around the farm offices, glancing into windows, but she didn’t see anything unexpected. It all looked a lot like Nico’s farm.
“Excuse me?”
Megan turned when she heard the voice. “Yes?” She crossed her arms, pressing the clipboard against her chest so the young man couldn’t see what was on it.
In a split second, she considered her options. There was a stack of barrels off to her left she could direct in the man’s path. There was an air conditioner sticking out of a window near his left elbow. She could use her telekinesis on either object to distract the man while she escaped.
Of course, there were always unexpected consequences when she used her telekinesis. Like wine fermentation tanks breaking apart. Chaos and grape seeds raining everywhere. Stains on her favorite white blouse.
The young man frowned, clearly confused by her presence. “Can I help you? Are you lost?”
“Are you?”
He hadn’t been expecting that answer. “I— No, I’m not lost. I work here.”
“Oh good.” Megan clicked the end of her pen and stared at the young man. “You might be able to assist me instead of my having to wait for her. Can you tell me which specific Baur acreage has an abundance of shale marl or limestone soil?”
“Pardon me?”
Megan frowned and allowed her clipboard to come down. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what shale marl is.”
“Of course I do, but you aren’t—”
“Central Coast soil study team.” Megan scribbled ideas on the clipboard, furiously coming up with a half-decent fiction. “I’m working with Professor Johnson and Dr. Pepper. No jokes—as you can imagine, she hears them all the time. Can you tell me the location of the limestone deposits within your cultivation acreage? And what are the levels of dissolvable solids in your groundwater?” She was blathering. She’d heard Henry talking about the water table and “dissolvable solids” the week before, but she had no idea if what she’d just said made any sense.
“I really— I’m sorry, I don’t know. Maybe you want to talk to—”
“Maybe I just better find her.” Megan started walking back toward the parking lot. “But you might tell her to get her hours straightened out too.” She turned and glared at the young man following her. “I have a schedule to keep, you know.”
“Of course you do. If you could just tell me your name—”
“Tell her I’ll email the survey numbers.”
“Who is her?”
She waved over her shoulder, not turning back as she walked past the fermentation warehouse and under the blooming pear tree near the parking lot. “I’ll get them to her next week at the latest!”
As Megan walked away, she reached out with all her concentration and pulled the air conditioner out of the office window, listening for the crash. It came as expected, along with a lot of cursing.