The Crush (Oregon Wine Country #1)(35)

“What’s that you’re drinking?”

“A rosemary lemon martini. It’s lovely.”

“What?” Junie mused wryly. “Nothing with kale in it? No cucumber?”

Mom made a face. “Now, Junie, don’t start. I thought you might like to try one too since you’re staying with me instead of driving back tonight, so I ordered you one.”

It had been a long time since Junie had drunk anything stronger than wine. When her own cocktail arrived, it tasted tart and bracing. While she sipped, she half listened to Mom prattle on about patients and coworkers she had never met. Before long, the vodka started to work its magic and she felt herself unwinding.

Mom ordered another round. “So, tell me what happened at the bank.”

Once Junie opened up, it was like a dam bursting. She didn’t stop at the fact that Jed didn’t think she could swing an increase in her line. She even hinted she’d been having trouble meeting her expenses.

Then an unassuming man who’d been sitting with his back to them got up from the bar and walked the few steps to their table.

Junie looked up into Tom Alexander’s face, then down at her mother. “What’s going on?”

“I asked Tom to give us a few minutes to catch up before joining us for dinner.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Without waiting for an answer, Tom pulled out a chair.

Junie gritted her teeth. “I thought we were having a private conversation. Just my mother and me.”

“I won’t insult your intelligence by saying I didn’t know you were coming here. Why are you so resentful of me, Juniper? You knew when you sold me your grapes that I was going to make wine with them. That’s no crime, last I heard. By your own admission, if not for me, you would have defaulted on your line of credit.”

“Why do I resent you? Let me think. Maybe because not one week ago, at the consortium, I plainly heard you refer to me as a failure.”

“Now, Junie. If you’re going to be a businesswoman, you’re going to have to grow a thicker skin. I wasn’t saying anything every other vintner in the Willamette isn’t thinking.” He examined his manicure. “There’s plenty of opportunity to go around. I want every vintner to do well, to continue to raise the reputation of the Valley. The success of every one of us feeds off the others.”

Junie lifted her chin, eyeing him askance. “Again. Why are you here?”

“Merely to offer a struggling winemaker—and the daughter of a dear friend—a hand up. Tell me, Juniper. What’s your formal, long-range business plan? What is it that you want most?”

Junie’s brow furrowed. What did she want? What was the real motivation behind getting a distributor for her wine? “I want to bring my grandfather’s dream to fruition. And I want to help my widowed mother reclaim her life.”

“Very well. To reach those lofty goals, you’re going to need to partner with someone who has a record of achievement. I’m willing to give you a personal loan to buy out half of your mother’s ownership in the vineyard and winery.”

Junie sniffed. “Half won’t do me much good—not that I’d even consider taking money from you. Where am I supposed to get the rest of it?”

Mom said, “Actually, honey, a bit of good news. Storm agreed to buy half my share, so you only have to come up with the money to buy the other half.”

Fury seized Junie. “You went to Storm?”

“After you told me Jed wouldn’t give you the money, I got a little desperate—” Flustered, Mom appealed to Tom for help.

“Look at it this way. . . .” Tom’s calm, patronizing demeanor was maddening. This was Junie’s life, her future they were discussing! “Imagine the winery is a pie cut into three pieces. A third of the pie for you, one for your brother, and one for your mother. Storm is willing to buy half your mother’s interest, or one sixth of the total. I’ll lend you the money to buy the other sixth. If the crush pans out the way you hope it will, you can pay me back at the end of the year—with interest, of course—and then you and your brother will be left with equal shares. If your sales exceed expectations, Storm will probably even sell you his portion, and then you’ll own everything. Winner take all.”

“And if the season doesn’t work out, you’ll take my sixth as your collateral and Storm will still own half—more than me. He’ll be the controlling partner!”

Tom lifted an arrogant brow. “If you’ve misjudged the market, or if the weather turns against you, or your wine goes sour or any number of other things—yes.” He shrugged. “That, my dear, is business.”

Mom tried to reason with her. “I know Storm’s changed jobs a lot, but he’s found his calling. His medical marijuana business is doing very well—”

Junie huffed. “Medical marijuana? Is that what he told you? And last I heard, he was a manager, not an owner.”

Mom ignored that. “He bought a house in Boulder and he has a live-in girlfriend. I don’t see him coming back to Clarkston. But if worst comes to worst with this year’s grape crop and Storm would happen get controlling interest and agree to let Tom be his local man on the ground, remember, my door is always open. You can always move in with me and take a job in Portland.”