Aged for Vengeance Read online

  Heading back into the tasting room to start the next fire, Olivia saw that her young assistant, Jean-Pierre, had just arrived.

  “Good morning! Er, I mean, buon giorno!” Jean-Pierre’s friendly greeting derailed her gloomy thoughts.

  “Buon giorno,” she replied, thinking how funny it was that she, an American, and Jean-Pierre, a Frenchman, were doing their best to speak as much Italian to each other as they could, both determined to improve their language skills.

  In halting, careful Italian, Jean-Pierre spoke again, tugging his unruly brown bangs thoughtfully. “It is a lovely morning, though frigid. Can I help you with your arson?”

  Smiling encouragingly even though he’d used the wrong word, Olivia handed him the bellows.

  “Please! It is tiring to use these. You can take over and I will go and remove the wine bottles, ready for the guests.”

  Jean-Pierre looked confused as he took the bellows.

  Walking back to the tasting counter, Olivia replayed what she’d said. Her pronunciation had been clear, hadn’t it?

  “Darn it,” she said under her breath. Her pronunciation had been perfect, but she’d used the wrong word. Instead of rimuovere, which meant “remove,” she had used rompi. She’d just confidently told Jean-Pierre that she was about to smash the bottles! No wonder he was glancing around nervously as she headed through the side door into the storage room.

  Learning a new language certainly was a journey, Olivia decided, feeling thankful that most of the winery visitors were from other countries, even in winter when tourism dropped.

  She checked the printed tasting sheets, setting out some bottles of the sangiovese red wine, the winery’s famous Miracolo red blend, the new red blend that Nadia the vintner had recently created, and two white wines—the vermentino and the chardonnay—as well as La Leggenda’s Metodo Classico sparkling wine.

  The rosé she’d made had been an unexpected success despite Olivia’s lack of experience in wine blending. In fact, it was selling so well it had been removed from the tasting menu as stocks were getting low. Next season, Nadia promised, they were going to make triple quantities of it, using Olivia’s selfsame recipe.

  That made her feel very proud, and a few steps closer to her goal of becoming a successful winemaker with her own wine label.

  Voices from outside signaled that the day’s first guests were arriving, and Olivia pulled her attention back to work. The Spanish tourists who entered the winery were clad in ski jackets, clearly here to enjoy the snowy slopes to the north.

  “Welcome, and buon giorno,” she greeted the guests as they headed toward the counter, thrilled that they’d taken time from their outdoor activities to visit La Leggenda. “Would you like to enjoy the full menu, or three selected wines?”

  “Just three, por favor,” the woman in the front of the group said, smiling.

  “Red, white, or a mixture?” Olivia asked. As she spoke, she was reminded all over again of why she loved her job. Introducing new enthusiasts to La Leggenda’s quality wines was pure joy.

  Briefly, Olivia cast her mind back to her previous life as an advertising account manager in Chicago. That had been the opposite, especially when catering to the majority of the clients, who had champagne visions, beer budgets, and threw epic tantrums when the results didn’t match their expectations.

  “I think we should focus on your reds,” the woman said, to nods from the rest of the group. “We are red wine lovers, and have heard about your Miracolo blend. It is famous!”

  “A great idea,” Olivia enthused.

  As she poured their first tasting portions, footsteps thudded outside and Marcello rushed in. The dark, handsome winery owner looked stressed. His phone was pressed to his ear as he rushed down the corridor.

  “Our first wine is the sangiovese red,” Olivia said, wondering what had happened to upset Marcello. “Our winery’s sangiovese is classic. Earthy, with a flavor profile of black cherries, it is oaked for a few months in order to give it the spicy, peppery tones that add so much complexity to this delicious wine.”

  As she poured, Marcello rushed up the corridor again, this time speeding out of the winery. From the parking lot, she heard faint shouts.

  Smiling at the guests as she watched them savor this delicious, traditionally Italian red, Olivia suppressed a flare of worry. She hoped there wasn’t a crisis. Marcello was usually very calm. The only time Olivia saw him run was when his evening jogging route led him along the service road she and Erba used to walk home.

  “Next up is the wine you have been looking forward to, our Miracolo red blend,” Olivia explained. “It was originally formulated by mistake, by Mr. Vescovi, the father of the three siblings who own the winery today.”

  As she spoke, there was a clatter of feet from outside, and in charged the three Vescovis she’d just told the guests about!

  Marcello led the way, followed closely by the lean, dark-haired Antonio who, from the look of his muddy boots, had been working on one of the nearby vine plantations. The petite Nadia brought up the rear. She was much shorter than her brothers, but as she sprinted across the tiled floor in her high-heeled shoes, she looked fiercely determined to keep up with them.

  A couple at the back of the group looked around curiously at the commotion. Olivia glanced at Jean-Pierre with her eyebrows raised, but her assistant shook his head and gave a tiny shrug. He, too, had no idea what was happening.

  Keeping her calm smile glued in place as if nothing at all was wrong, Olivia continued with her story while pouring the Miracolo.

  “Mr. Vescovi senior thought he had made a terrible mistake, as he used wines from the wrong vats when blending it. He realized that a large amount of wine would be wasted, which was a terrible blow for the small winery that La Leggenda was then. However, he luckily decided to taste the wine before he threw it away. He knew straight away that he had accidentally created something outstanding, which would make La Leggenda’s name famous. That is why he called the wine Miracolo, as its existence was a miracle!”

  Her guests looked enthralled by this story, which was the part of La Leggenda’s history that she enjoyed telling the most. It was incredible that such a great result had come from a catastrophic error.

  Thinking worriedly about catastrophes, Olivia could hear raised voices coming from Marcello’s office. It seemed like an argument was erupting.

  She struggled to keep focused on the guests, pleased by their nods of approval as they sipped the award-winning Miracolo.

  “I will take a case of this, please,” the nearest guest told her. “This is magnificent! Made for apres-ski!”

  “I will also take a case,” the woman at the back of the group said. “We need to have enough of this to enjoy on our vacation, and take home!”

  Pleased that this group was placing good orders, Olivia passed the sheet to Jean-Pierre, who hurried away to prepare the cases.

  “Our final red wine of the day is a brand new blend created by Nadia, our head vintner,” Olivia said. From the office, she could hear that very vintner shrieking, “No! Absolutely not! No!”

  Olivia poured the third blend. “In line with international market trends, this new blend is primarily cabernet sauvignon, with a little merlot, a splash of sangiovese, and a small amount of local Barolo grapes. When creating this wine, Nadia imagined that it would be the perfect drink for enjoying by a log fire, and so this wine is named Focolare, or Fireside, Blend.”

  She saw nods of agreement from the group as they sampled this wine, which was Nadia’s pride and joy.

  “A case of this, too, please,” one of the group said. “We will be enjoying a fire every evening in our chalet, no?”

  “Our assistant sommelier will ring up your purchases.” Olivia smiled, and Jean-Pierre stepped forward proudly.

  As soon as the guests’ attention was on him, Olivia rushed from behind the counter. There must be a crisis erupting! How could she help? As she ran through the side doorway, Marcello strode purposefully out of his office, with Nadia and Antonio close behind him.

  “Olivia, are you available?” he asked, sounding anxious.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “We must have an urgent meeting immediately! Come to the restaurant! Jean-Pierre, join us as soon as you can.”

  With a twinge of guilt, Olivia remembered the strange woman’s visit and her failure to ask proper questions about it. It couldn’t be coincidence that something had happened to stress Marcello out, so soon after that surprise inspection. Had she made a terrible mistake in allowing it? She had a strong premonition that this meeting spelled trouble—if not for the winery, then for her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Olivia hustled into the restaurant together with the Vescovis. Antonio looked angry. Nadia’s eyes were sparkling and her chin was set in a way that Olivia knew meant she was ready for a fight. And Marcello looked uncharacteristically edgy. His deep blue eyes were narrowed in thought, and he stood by the table, tapping his fingers on the chair as he waited for the others to be seated.

  With tension tangible in the air, she was becoming more and more certain that she’d caused this catastrophe, whatever it was, and that it was related to what had happened this morning. Instead of calling her into his office to speak about it privately, Marcello was going to discuss it in front of all the Vescovis, as well as her assistant vintner!

  After seeing the tourist group out with a friendly “Ciao,” Jean-Pierre ran in to join them.

  “Gabriella!” Marcello called, and Olivia tensed. Not her, too?

  Gabriella appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Olivia was surprised to see that her demeanor was friendly and cooperative. There wasn’t a hint of the combative and frankly bullying attitude she’d shown to Olivia.
r />   “Is there a problem?” Gabriella asked sweetly, and then, once she had everyone’s attention, she glanced meaningfully at Olivia. “Has someone caused a crisis?”

  “Sit down, sit down,” Marcello ordered impatiently. To Olivia’s relief, he didn’t immediately agree with Gabriella and, in fact, looked fed up with her sniping.

  Chairs scraped as they hastily obeyed his request.

  “What is happening?” Jean-Pierre asked, looking confused.

  With her mind spinning, Olivia waited breathlessly for Marcello to speak.

  “We have just been offered what I can only describe as the opportunity of a lifetime!” Marcello announced.

  Olivia felt her heart speed up. She’d expected bad news, but this sounded like the opposite. What could it be?

  “Tell us more!” Jean-Pierre gasped, clearly as anxious as her.

  “At the last moment—the last possible instant—we have been nominated to join an exclusive event; one that is invitation-only,” Marcello explained. “The event is known as the Platinum Tour.”

  Now it was Olivia’s turn to gasp. She’d heard it mentioned in her old life. Although she didn’t know many details, marketing people spoke of it in hushed voices. Marketers could spend their entire careers trying to get companies and clients involved. She listened, fascinated, to Marcello’s description.

  “The Platinum Tour is an extremely popular and sought-after event. It is a by-invitation-only, limited-numbers luxury tour for the wealthy elite—business leaders, international CEOs, celebrities, billionaires, and other influencers. It takes place seasonally, and one of the tour’s chapters is the Tuscany Chapter. As part of their travels, the group visits a small number of highly exclusive wine estates.”

  There was a breathless silence in the room. Olivia saw her own amazed hope reflected in Jean-Pierre’s eyes. Was Marcello going to say they were part of it?

  “The wineries chosen usually remain consistent, as the tour prefers to deal with places the guests know and enjoy. However, yesterday, a catastrophe occurred at Vino Montagna winery.”

  Another familiar name. Vino Montagna was a leading winery in the area. Olivia had visited it recently. It was co-owned by an Oscar-winning movie star and one of Italy’s most prominent designers, and frequented by many celebrities.

  “An electrical short caused a severe fire in the tasting room,” Marcello explained. “As a result, Vino Montagna is closed for the rest of winter while renovations are done. We have therefore been approached by the Platinum Tour organizers as an alternative venue.”

  The puzzle pieces were falling into place for Olivia. This must be why the strange woman had made her rushed visit earlier in the day. As if confirming her thoughts, Marcello spoke again.

  “They have a very stringent checklist of points. The tour organizer, Stella Markham, did an inspection first thing this morning. After walking through the winery and examining all the facilities, she said we just meet the necessary standard,” Marcello said.

  “So that was who she was!” Olivia blurted out. Thank goodness she’d arrived early, she thought, glad that her premonition had been wrong.

  “Did you let her in?” Marcello asked. “That was fortunate, as she had a list of other venues if we were not available. Well done, Olivia.”

  Olivia felt a surge of relief. Thank goodness her actions had saved the day, and not been as foolhardy as she’d feared.

  “However, we now need to make a decision,” Marcello continued, looking serious. “The tour is the day after tomorrow. It is a make-or-break event. We will have to exceed all expectations in terms of our service, our environment, our food. Everything must be perfect if our guests are to be happy, but we do not have much time to prepare. Are we up to it, or should we decline?”

  Olivia felt like jumping up and down in her seat with excitement. Surely yes was the obvious answer? But Antonio was shaking his head, and she saw Gabriella frowning.

  “I say no,” Antonio said. “It is too short notice and our winery is not looking good enough. Tiles need replacing in the tasting room. The planters outside are looking ugly. Even the paving in the parking lot is damaged from cold. We cannot afford to risk disappointing such high-caliber customers. We would be the laughingstock of the area.”

  “Do I get a vote?” Jean-Pierre asked. When Marcello nodded, the young Frenchman cried, “Yes, of course! What an opportunity! Surely the small details do not matter? After all, it is a place full of history and they are here for wine.”

  “I agree. Our wines will win them over. Never mind a few cracked paving stones. We must take the chance we can do it and push ourselves to the limit. I say yes,” Nadia emphasized, banging her fist on the table.

  Gabriella folded her arms. “No. I am against it for the same reasons as Antonio. If we do not succeed, it will damage our reputation. My restaurant chairs need reupholstering and the walls must be repainted. Billionaires will scorn the place if it looks shabby.”

  Marcello looked at Olivia, and she felt her stomach flip-flop.

  There were two votes for, two against, and now it was her turn.

  Knowing that she’d make even more of an enemy out of Gabriella, but forcing herself to have the courage of her convictions, Olivia nodded.

  “I think we must accept it. I’ve been to Vino Montagna and their paving wasn’t perfect. Nobody expected it to be. We had a great time there anyway. It wasn’t only the wines, but also their amazing knowledge of them, and the way we were treated. That was what made the difference for me,” Olivia said, remembering the outing with a fond smile, as it had been her and Danilo’s second date.

  “You do not have the same taste as a billionaire,” Gabriella hissed at her with narrowed eyes.

  Olivia studiously ignored her baiting. They were now three to two in favor of the tour. The deciding vote rested with Marcello. If he said yes, the tour was on. If he said no, then she guessed his word would be final.

  A tense silence descended on the room as everyone waited in expectation to see what he would say.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Marcello gave a decisive nod.

  “I am not participating in the voting. It is not necessary,” he said, to Olivia’s shock. She heard Gabriella gasp in outrage, but didn’t dare glance in the affronted restaurateur’s direction. “I can see that we have a majority. The majority has decided, and we will accept the tour. I will call Stella back immediately and tell her our decision.”

  Marcello stood up and marched back to his office, and only then did Olivia look at the others. Antonio seemed even more worried. Nadia was triumphant. Jean-Pierre looked excited, and Gabriella was searing Olivia with a furious glare.

  “So, we are all going to be put to huge stress and inconvenience for a stupid once-off?” Gabriella hissed.

  Nadia leaned threateningly across the table. “How do you know it will be a once-off? Emergencies occur. Other fires happen! We might become the official tour reserve. Perhaps they will even decide to use us again!”

  “Even a once-off would benefit us, surely?” Jean-Pierre said. “If the billionaires enjoy the place, they will come back and tell their friends!”

  “If they have any,” Gabriella muttered.

  “I think it is a great opportunity,” Jean-Pierre concluded, pretending not to have heard Gabriella. “I have always wanted to meet a billionaire.”

  Olivia agreed. She felt thrilled that they’d been chosen, and wasn’t sure what all the negativity was about.

  “We must work as a team. If we all pull together, this will be the best experience that these people will have on their tour,” Olivia said, feeling like the group cheerleader, even though nobody else was cheering. All the same, unity was essential. If everyone was fighting with each other, it would be a disaster, and she could already see that Gabriella and Nadia both wanted to fight.

  Antonio stood up. “I will attend to the damaged paving immediately,” he said, and strode out.

  “I will go and rearrange all my plans for the next two days. Let us hope none of our booked patrons are inconvenienced by this idiotic tour. If anything goes wrong, which I am sure it will, it will all be your fault, Olivia,” Gabriella spat, scraping her chair back and stomping into the kitchen.