What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(76)

Max and Kellen watched her turn and hurry toward the house.

“It’s only noon. What’s going to take her six hours?” Kellen asked.

Max laughed deep in his chest. “Are you challenging my mother?”

“Not at all! It was more of a rhetorical question.” She deliberately bumped her hip into his.

He deliberately bumped back. “Want to help me shower?”

“I don’t know. When we tried sharing a shower at Zone’s, we got stuck.”

Max cackled. There was no other word for it. He cackled. Then he sighed. “Oh, hell. Here comes Arthur. Arthur Waldberg, the new winery manager.”

ARTHUR WALDBERG:
MALE, 5'7", 140 LBS, DESCENT: MEDITERRANEAN? MIDDLE EASTERN?, DARK CURLY HAIR, BROWN EYES. DRESSED FOR BUSINESS IN NEW YORK CITY. MOOD: CONFIDENT, PLEASED WITH HIMSELF.
Huh.

“Sir! You’re back!” Arthur hurried up and extended his hand.

“Call me Max.”

“Of course, sir.” Arthur offered his hand to Kellen. “You’re Rae’s mommy. Miss Adams, I’ve heard nothing but your praises sung since my arrival.”

Kellen lifted her eyebrows at him.

“From Rae,” he qualified. “The two of you have had quite an adventure.”

“We’re glad that it’s over,” Kellen replied.

“I’m not so sure Rae would agree,” Arthur said.

Max and Kellen moaned in unison.

Arthur laughed. “My children aren’t the least adventurous. Thank heavens they don’t take after their father.”

Kellen added a note to his dossier.

ARTHUR WALDBERG:
BELIEVES HIMSELF TO BE ADVENTUROUS. SEEMS OUT OF CHARACTER WITH APPEARANCE.
“What do you think of the changes?” Arthur waved at the winery. “I plunged right in, hired reliable help to replace the staff you lost to Whistling Winds Winery. Temporary staff, of course, pending your interview and approval. Your vintner agreed to take on a talented young person as his apprentice.”

“You convinced Freeman Townsend to take on an apprentice?” Max was incredulous.

“Not me. The apprentice convinced him with a combination of talent, fresh ideas—and lavish admiration.”

“Wow. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Her. Jessie Glomen.”

Max shook his head in disbelief. “A female convinced that old misogynist to... Now I really can’t wait to meet her.”

“Not a problem, sir.” Arthur waved his hand toward the path that led around the winery building and toward the sheds that held the huge stainless steel and smaller oak casks. “We’ll start the tour there.”

“Perhaps on the grounds, first.” Max really couldn’t keep his eyes off the changes.

“Very good, sir. The staff and I can’t wait another minute to show off our improvements. You’ve already seen what we’ve done with the outside. Here, let me introduce you to the splendid young designer who created this warm and welcoming atmosphere.” Arthur led them toward:

WARREN GOLOKIN:
MALE, CAUCASIAN ANCESTRY, MIDTHIRTIES, 5'10", 150 LBS, BROWN HAIR (STIFF POMPADOUR), BLUE EYES, BLACK EYELINER. FLAMBOYANTLY GAY. ACCENT: NEW JERSEY. IMMACULATELY DRESSED. THRILLED AND NERVOUS.
Max complimented Warren on the layout.

Kellen asked where he had found the artistically painted picnic tables, and on discovering he’d done them himself, suggested they start a shop for his works.

Warren wrung her hand in an outpouring of thankfulness and confessed fabulously decorated, utilitarian furniture was his passion.

Kellen talked to him about the objets d’art she’d seen in Afghanistan, about the hidden libraries and the labyrinth of caves filled with wonders of a bygone age, and the two of them would have gone on for hours, but Arthur caught Warren’s eye and Warren broke it off.

“Miss Adams, I hope in the future we can sit down and discuss what you saw—the colors, the designs, how they made you feel. But for now, I know you want to meet the rest of the staff.”

Not really. But meeting staff and exchanging pleasantries was the duty of Max’s wife. Her duties, now, and as an officer of the US Army, she understood the importance of showing unity to the troops.

Arthur escorted them to the bar. “Our outdoor manager, Claude McKeith.”

CLAUDE MCKEITH:
MALE, NORTHERN EUROPEAN ANCESTRY, 50S, 6'4", 200 LBS, BLOND, SMILING, JAW CLENCHED, BLINDING WHITE TEETH. IMMACULATELY DRESSED. THRILLED AND NERVOUS.
Claude explained that many customers came out of the tasting room wanting another glass of wine and refreshments. He served simple and locally sourced platters of cheese, meat and fruit, and offered samples to Kellen and Max.

Max snacked and asked the daily monetary take.

Claude replied with an amount that raised Max’s eyebrows.

Arthur beamed. “I expect this to be a highly profitable and popular addition to the winery.”

“I wish I’d thought of it,” Max said.

“I’m sure you would have, sir, given time.”

Kellen wasn’t so sure. Max seemed rather set in his ways, and his shaken response to the change made her smile.

He glanced at her. “Oh, shut up.”

She faked a solemn face.

He kissed her hand.

Arthur observed with interest. “The sojourn in the mountains seem to have refreshed you both.”