Romancing the Wine: A Boxed Set of 9 Newest Novellas from Award-Winning Authors Read online

  “We did. She liked shopping for silk fabric, incense, porcelain, and unusual food. Unusual to our Western palate, that is. I have a lot of good memories here.”

  Henri pulled up to a restaurant. “And here we are. Hope you can use chopsticks.”

  Johnny Kan’s restaurant was well-known for fine Cantonese-style dining, but Juliana had never been here. They were immediately shown to a table in the high-ceilinged restaurant. To Juliana’s surprise, the kitchen was separated only by a glass wall. Diners could watch the master Chinese chefs at work.

  “How fascinating,” Juliana said, watching chefs toss vegetables into large woks, add sauces, stir a few times, and quickly turn the food onto a plate. Henri seemed like he was in his element, exploring the menu and talking to the waiter. Juliana was enjoying the stylish setting.

  “This is the finest Cantonese-style restaurant in the United States,” he said. “What kind of Chinese dishes do you like?”

  “Any kind of seafood. Crab, shrimp, fish. Lots of vegetables. Bird’s nest soup.”

  “Mind if I order for you?” When she nodded, Henri began to speak to the waiter in half-English, half-Cantonese.

  “You speak Chinese?”

  Henri laughed. “I don’t think I could be accused of that. Arrested for it, perhaps.” He made a face. “Solange and I studied Chinese for fun when she was sick. We had a Chinese chef for a while.”

  “So the girls must like Chinese food, too.” Juliana thought about the sweet note they had sent and for a moment she was tempted to tell him, but thought better of it. That would remain their secret.

  “They do. They’ve been real troopers, those girls.”

  Henri started to say something else, but he seemed to think the better of it. Juliana rested her chin in her hand, listening to him talk about his new ideas to build his wine business.

  The more Juliana learned of him, the more questions she had. It seemed as if there were another story lurking just beneath the surface of the conversation. She couldn’t say why she felt that; it was more of a sense than anything he’d actually said. Or perhaps she was mistaken.

  “How’re you doing?” Henri asked, his eyes sparkling.

  “Couldn’t be better.” And that was the truth. She was really enjoying herself.

  A waiter served steaming tea while they talked. Henri transformed before her eyes from the quiet, reticent man he’d been at her press event to a man more at ease in her company. Juliana sat back, enjoying the sound of his deep melodic voice as he recounted anecdotes about Anne and Beatrice and Solange. She didn’t mind that he talked about his wife, though why should that matter to her anyway? In fact, he seemed to become more relaxed as he did, so she encouraged him with questions.

  As Henri recounted fond memories, her mind wandered to Alfonso, and she wondered if he would have liked this restaurant. Why that comparison bothered her, she didn’t know, but it did. She sipped her tea, thinking. Maybe it was because he had been her life for years, but now she was having new experiences without him. Did Henri feel like that, too?

  After they’d finished the soup, other dishes began to arrive. Aromatic rice, delicate crab topped with garlic and scallion, vegetable crepes, savory flounder with julienned ginger. Henri was eager to share his favorites with her.

  After they’d eaten all they could, Henri began to ask questions about the gala. “How many people will be in attendance?”

  “About four hundred, I understand.”

  “What is being served for dinner?”

  Juliana relayed the menu. “Could you donate some wine for the auction?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “And what do you plan to wear?”

  “Me? I haven’t even thought of it.” Although the committee had asked her to make some introductions and oversee the auction. “Oh my goodness, I do have to find a dress.” She added shopping to her ever lengthening list of tasks.

  Henri cleared his throat. “Since we both have to attend, I’d be honored if you would be—”

  “Thank you,” she interjected, before he could say ‘date’ or whatever he might have said that would have been awkward. “I’d definitely appreciate a ride.”

  If Henri were disappointed, he hid it well, she noted. He only hesitated for a moment.

  After leaving the restaurant, Henri wanted to walk around Chinatown. As they passed storefront windows, Juliana admired the slim cheongsam dresses and brilliantly colored textiles.

  They strolled into a shop that had simple necklaces and charm bracelets. A lovely scent of sandalwood incense filled the air.

  A wizened woman behind the counter greeted them. She said to Juliana, “What is your birth year?”

  Henri studied Juliana with interest. “Some women don’t like to share their age. Are you one of those?” His rich cognac-colored eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

  “I don’t mind,” she said, laughing. “I’m twenty-seven and I was born in 1929. That’s considered old-maidsville in Mexican years.”

  “I think it’s just right,” Henri said with approval.

  The woman was nodding to herself. “Year of the snake. A very good sign.” She turned to Henri. “She is intelligent, brave, and charming. You are a lucky man.”

  Henri’s face deepened in color and Juliana realized he felt put on the spot. “Oh, no, we’re not together,” she said to the women. “We’re only friends. Business associates.”

  The woman’s eyes sparkled. “Okay, if you say so.” She brought out a bracelet that had a few Chinese good luck charms on it that Juliana recognized. “I can put a snake charm on this for you. It will bring very good luck.”

  “Then we must have it,” Henri said.

  “Oh, no.” Juliana wasn’t comfortable accepting a gift from him, though it was an unusual, beautifully crafted bracelet. She’d often admired charm bracelets, but until her business became more successful, jewelry wasn’t on her shopping list.

  “It’s my pleasure. We’re celebrating our first success in the new publicity campaign tonight. I insist we commemorate it. Besides, we need to keep the good luck rolling in.”

  She couldn’t deny his argument. “Okay, then. Thank you,’ she said, while the woman measured her wrist and choose a charm for her.

  “What a beautiful red dress you’re wearing,” the woman said as she reached for her jewelry tools. While she worked, she told Juliana about her Chinese sign. “As a snake, red is your lucky color. Snakes are very intuitive. And for love, you are best suited to a rooster.” The woman peered at Henri. “Are you a rooster?”

  “Some people have told me I like to crow about my wines. Does that count?”

  The woman shook her head. “What is your birth year?”

  Teasing him, Juliana cupped her hand around her ear. “What’s that, Henri? Speak up.”

  He tapped her nose. “If you must know, 1921. I’m eight years older than you. Satisfied?”

  She was. He was thirty-five years old. About what she had guessed. Not that it mattered, of course.

  “Then you are doubly blessed,” the woman said, reaching for another charm. “You are a rooster. You are well-matched.” To Juliana, she said, “He is talented, hard-working, and honest. Even if he does like to boast a little,” she added with a chuckle.

  Grinning, Henri held up a finger. “Only about my amazing wine, though.”

  Juliana crossed her arms, sizing him up. “The talented part is certainly correct. Hardworking, check. Boastful, check. And honesty is definitely important.” She couldn’t abide people who weren’t truthful.

  “There. You try it on.” The woman held out the bracelet for Juliana and clasped it around her wrist. “Perfect size on you. This will bring you much luck.”

  Henri paid for the bracelet and they left. As they walked, Juliana said, “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

  “No, but it gave me pleasure. It’s been a long time since I bought something for a woman. I’m a man. That makes us feel good, so humor me. I’m your
client, remember? So you have to accept my gifts.”

  “That’s not the way it works, but I do appreciate it.” The bracelet tinkled as she moved her hand. She liked the subtle reminder of the evening they’d spent together.

  When they got back into Henri’s Cadillac, he asked if she’d brought her car to the city.

  “I did. It’s parked at The Palace Hotel.”

  “It’s late. I’ll drive you home. I have an appointment with a printer here in the city tomorrow so I could drive you back in. And I could really use your help on the wine label.”

  “The one Solange was working on?”

  He nodded. “You were right. It is a nice tribute to her.”

  Juliana was pleased he’d taken her advice. “I’d really enjoy that. And thank you for the ride. It is getting late. It will almost be past my curfew.”

  “Your what?” Henri turned to her with an incredulous look on his face.

  Laughing, she said, “My landlady at the boarding house is pretty strict. Mrs. Morales likes to say she runs a tight ship.”

  “I’ll say. Sounds like you’re in the navy.” He checked his watch. “Better have you back on time, then. I wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of Mrs. M.”

  “Don’t worry,” she replied, grinning. “Everything is copasetic, Monsieur Laurent.”

  Henri put the top down on his cherry red Eldorado Cadillac and Juliana removed her hat. He turned on the radio and an Elvis Presley song was playing. In a rich, deep voice he sang out, “Love me tender…”

  “…love me sweet,” Juliana sang with him. They exchanged smiles and belted out the song as they whizzed across the Golden Gate Bridge with a thousand stars shimmering around them.

  As Henri wound his way to Napa, he talked about wine and Juliana stole looks at him from the corner of her eye. Henri had a strong, aristocratic profile. She thought of the upcoming gala and wondered idly what he’d look like in a tuxedo. Not that it mattered, she told herself.

  Rooster or not, he was only her client.

  Chapter 6

  Juliana stepped onto a round riser in front of a three-way mirror in the dressing room. “How about this dress?”

  “I love that one,” Caterina said. She sat with her white cotton gloves spread across the lap of her trim, robin’s egg blue faille suit.

  “It’s the color of cabernet, isn’t it?” Juliana twirled around, checking the back in the mirror. The dress had a trim bodice that rested slightly off the shoulders. From the waist, the satin dress curved to fit her and then flared at the hem.

  Juliana had called Caterina, hoping she could join her on her lunch break from the St. Francis Hotel. She definitely needed a second opinion on an evening dress. Though she loved beautiful clothes, she’d been brought up in dungarees in the vineyard, as were most of the children in the valley.

  Turning on the riser, Juliana inspected the fit. Pale pink moiré wallpaper reflected in the mirror, casting a soft rosy glow in the fitting room and across her skin. Juliana loved shopping, though it still seemed extravagant to her. Two or three store-bought dresses or suits a year was what her budget allowed; she still sewed most of her clothes. She or her mother had made most of her best dresses when she was growing up. Juliana was more accustomed to gingham than satin.

  “It’s so elegant.” Juliana lifted her hair from her neck and wound it into a bun, considering the effect. “And red is supposedly my lucky color. I have it on good authority.”

  “From whom?”

  Juliana jingled her new gold bracelet. “A Chinese jeweler told me so. I’m a snake and red is lucky for me.”

  “A snake?” Caterina looked at her with mock suspicion. “What have you been up to?”

  She told Caterina about the dinner celebration she’d had a few days ago with Henri and their visit to Chinatown. “He gave me this bracelet to mark the occasion.”

  “It’s lovely. So unusual,” Caterina said, taking a closer look at the bracelet. “Does this have a deeper meaning between you two, by chance?”

  Juliana threw her a look. “Not at all. He’s my client.”

  “If you say so.” Catrine shrugged nonchalantly, but her eyes glittered with happiness.

  Turning back around, Juliana stared at her image in the mirror. That was exactly what jeweler had said, but of course, there wasn’t anything to it. “Rooster, indeed,” she mumbled, as she slid the zipper down.

  Caterina caught her eye in the mirror. “What did you just say about a rooster?”

  The days flew and Juliana busied herself with the details of the gala. From food to flowers, music to seating arrangements, Juliana tended to all the final details. She contacted editors of local newspapers and magazines to invite them and pitch coverage of the gala, including the fact that the exclusive Chateau Laurent wines were to be served. Reporters from both the Examiner and the Chronicle wanted to interview Henri, too.

  When the day of the gala finally arrived, Juliana dressed in her wine-colored evening gown. From Caterina, she’d borrowed ivory-colored satin gloves that rose above her elbows. Her hair was wound into an elegant chignon. She clasped the charm bracelet Henri had bought her over her gloved wrist.

  After she was ready, she went downstairs to wait in the boarding house living room. Mrs. Morales was there, too, her knitting needles clicking in the quiet room. When they heard a car outside, they both looked out the window.

  “Is that your young man?” Mrs. Morales patted her hair. “He’s terribly handsome. Here he comes. You should go upstairs, hurry.”

  “What? But I’m ready.”

  Mrs. Morales pushed her toward the stair. “Don’t let him know you’re waiting. A gentleman caller should wait for you to make your grand entrance.”

  Juliana rolled her eyes. “He’s not a gentleman caller, he’s my client. I’m staying right here—even if he were my date.” She blew out a breath of exasperation. Thank goodness times were changing.

  Still fretting, Mrs. Morales rushed to open the door at Henri’s knock. “Your gentleman is here,” she announced.

  At that, Juliana smiled through gritted teeth. “Henri, so good of you to come. May I present Mrs. Morales, my landlord.” She gestured to Henri. “Mr. Laurent, proprietor of Chateau Laurent wines and my client.” She emphasized the last word, but Mrs. Morales was already gushing over Henri. Juliana pressed a hand to her fluttering heart. He did look handsome in his tuxedo.

  “Con mucho gusto,” he said.

  Juliana thought Mrs. Morales might faint when Henri lifted her hand to whisper a kiss above her skin.

  Henri placed a bottle of Chateau Laurent cabernet sauvignon on the table. “I thought you might enjoy a bottle of my wine, too.”

  Mrs. Morales bloomed with anticipation. “Muchas gracias. However, I only drink a little for medicinal or religious purposes. I’ll put it away.”

  Juliana smothered a smile. “You didn’t look well this morning. Maybe you should have a glass after supper.”

  Mrs. Morales coughed into her hand. “Maybe I should. And Mr. Laurent, no need to worry about the curfew tonight.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Henri exchanged an amused expression with Juliana.

  As Henri helped her into the car, Juliana caught a whiff of his cologne. Lemony, wooded, and warm, it melded with his natural scent and drew her in. “Thank you,” she managed to say in a calm, professional voice.

  Before he closed her door, he paused. “You’re an absolute vision.”

  “It’s the dress,” she said, touching the satin bodice.

  “No, it isn’t.” His eyes were magnetized to hers. “But it is extraordinary on you.”

  Inside the grand ballroom at the St. Francis Hotel, Juliana was pleased with the decorations she’d arranged, which matched the splendor of the ornate room. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above round tables laden with china, crystal, and silver.

  One of Juliana’s housemates was a teacher in Napa, so she’d asked for her help. To help raise money for the Children’s Hospital,
her friend had children of all ages at the school draw cards that said ‘Welcome.’ Some were illustrated with crayons and finger paint, while others were more advanced charcoal sketches or watercolors. Juliana hoped these would encourage guests to open their wallets even more for such a good cause.

  If tonight was financially successful, the committee would meet its goal to fund the new hospital. Juliana had also asked them to consider funding children’s clinics in Sonoma and Napa, too. There was a real need, especially for migrant families who picked grapes during harvest season. Committee members had been unware of this need, and promised to help.

  “I had no idea you were so talented and organized,” Henri said, looking impressed.

  “To me, this is fun.” Juliana smiled up at him. “I love bringing people together for an important cause. And helping good people like you expand their business.”

  Henri smoothed a wisp of hair from her forehead. “You have no idea how much I appreciate what you’re doing,” he said, lowering his voice.

  Juliana felt her face grow warm. “The reporters who want to talk with you should be arriving any minute. I told them to come early.” She glanced toward the doorway. “People are beginning to arrive. I’d better help the volunteers at the door. Thanks for helping me with the seating cards and the children’s artwork.”

  “I enjoyed it.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Go.”

  Juliana hurried to the front, touching her cheek where he’d casually kissed her, her bracelet tinkling as she lifted her hand. He was probably just being polite.

  A young man with a press credential tucked into his hatband appeared at the door. Juliana waved and crossed the ballroom to meet him.

  She introduced herself and directed him to Henri. “But no photos of the Mr. Laurent, please.” When the reporter looked bewildered, she added, “He’s very modest and private.” As she watched Henri greet the young man, she wondered again why he was so against having his photo taken. Frankly, that had started to concern her. But she didn’t want to think about that now.