“No.”
“Then no. What you’re doing is stupid and dangerous. If his wife found out, he’d lose half of everything. And you’d be fucked since you work for them.”
“Well, until this moment, no one else knew.” She glanced over at me, and I saw the first hint of fear from her. She didn’t want to lose everything for this guy. She’d gotten caught up in it. Power dynamics and all.
“But now, I know,” I said.
She took the drink from the bartender. She had it put on Daddy Sinclair’s tab. Cheeky. “You do. So, I guess I’m trying to figure out what you’re going to do with the information.”
“Did he send you to ask?”
She shook her head with a laugh. Eve had always been beautiful in a way that said she knew it. But young. Almost as young as Nora. We’d only crossed paths because of soccer. I might have been interested once…if she hadn’t been into Zach. Never a more drastic change in relationship had I seen.
“No way. He isn’t even thinking about it. But I like contingency plans.”
“Trying to figure out if it’s time to bail?”
Eve tapped her glass against mine with a wink. “Maybe.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to do anything with the information.”
“Cool,” she said, taking me at my word. “Well, see you tomorrow at the ceremony.”
I waved her off and downed the rest of my glass. I had a second and third until a buzz hit me in the face. Then, I returned to my room and crashed. All I wanted was to be in bed next to Piper. Instead, I was here. Alone.
This fucking sucked.
The award ceremony wasn’t until seven tonight. So, I spent the day wandering the convention center, keeping an eye out for Piper. It was a huge place, so I didn’t see her, but I was still frustrated that it never happened. I tasted a decent amount of wine, made some connections for Wright Vineyard, and played the part that Jordan and Julian had been grooming me to take over.
With a frustrated sigh, I went back to the Four Seasons, changed into a black suit, and left for the award ceremony. I was offered a glass of champagne as I entered the enormous ballroom. A large stage was at the front of the room. A banner hung behind it with the IWCC logo on it. The logo was also represented on two projection screens on either side of the stage.
Hundreds of tables filled the space, and as a finalist, I was shown to my table near the front. I took the one seat for Wright Vineyard and was seated next to the three corresponding seats for Sinclair Cellars. Interesting.
One for Piper, of course.
And then Daddy Sinclair and Eve appeared at the table, making it clear that they were also representing the winery. Piper was going to throw a fit if she found out. Christ.
I shot her a quick text, in case she wasn’t aware.
Heads up. Daddy Sinclair and Eve are seated at the Sinclair Cellars table. Didn’t want you to be blindsided.
But though my message appeared as Read, she didn’t respond to it.
I ordered a drink as I waited and tuned out the conversation. I should have brought Julian or something. He’d had plans with Jennifer already and offered to break them, but I hadn’t let him. Now, I was regretting that.
The lights flickered overhead, and a speaker stepped up to the podium, asking everyone to take their seats, as they were about to begin. Piper’s place was still empty. What the hell? Where was she?
I sent another text.
Everything is about to start. Where are you? Did you decide to sit somewhere else?
Again, straight to Read.
“What the fuck?” I muttered under my breath.
Eve leaned across Piper’s empty seat and whispered, “Where’s Piper?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. I never in a million years thought that she would miss this.”
“Maybe she’s late.”
But I doubted it. Piper was never late. She’d been messed up last night. I’d let her go back to her room. Maybe I should have pushed after all and tried to be there for her more. Had she decided to bail on the entire thing?
Finally, the lights dimmed, and I had to put my phone away. Piper wasn’t here.
She wasn’t late.
She just wasn’t coming.
“And the winner of the IWCC award for Best in Class goes to…” The commentator opened a sealed envelope. He read the results and broke into a smile. “Wright Vineyard, Abbey Vintage.”
My jaw dropped as the award was called out. I was struck perfectly still. I couldn’t believe it. Was this real life?
Eve nudged me. “That’s you! Go up there!”
After two hours of awards, I’d been essentially numb to the winners. Wines were awarded medals—bronze, silver, gold, and double gold. Each one was a blind taste by a panel of judges. They weren’t judged against one another, but as the quality of the wine as a whole. But at the end of each category, one wine was chosen as Best of Class. And that was essentially the winner of the entire ceremony.
And that was me.
I stumbled out of my seat and ascended the stairs to the podium. A trophy was thrust into my hand with a muffled, “Congratulations.”
I stared out at the audience from under the bright white lights. The crowd applauded my success. Cameras flashed. People were cheering. I’d never experienced this in my life, and I was momentarily dumbstruck.
I retrieved the acceptance speech I’d written from my suit coat pocket. Julian and Jordan had insisted I have one just in case. I’d thought there was no chance in the world that I’d get here, but now, I was, and thank fuck they’d pressured me into writing something.
The words came out like I was speaking with marshmallows in my mouth as I thanked my family and friends and the vineyard. It all happened in a flash, and then I was ushered backstage. I took a handful of pictures for the photographers. I downed three large glasses of water all in a row to stop my body from shaking from disbelief and mild stage fright.
When I got a second to myself, I took out my phone and video-called Julian and Jordan. Their faces filled my small screen, and I held up the award.
“We fucking did it!” I said.
“Holy shit!” Julian said.
“I knew we’d win,” Jordan said.
“You didn’t know,” Julian said with an eye roll.
“I suspected.”
“Well, it happened.”
“Congratulations. So well deserved,” Jordan said.
“We’re going to have to find a prominent place to display the trophy,” Julian said.
I nodded. “Definitely.”
Julian cleared his throat. “How’d Sinclair Cellars do?”
“Piper didn’t show.”
“What?” Jordan asked sharply.
“That makes no sense,” Julian said.
“I know. And then they didn’t even medal. I’m so fucking confused. Their wine was as good or, as much as this pains me to say, better than ours. I don’t know what the fuck happened.”
“Huh,” Jordan said. “That’s confusing.”
Julian frowned. “Well, if you figure it out, let us know.”
“Will do. Next year, you fuckers are coming with me.”