Fate Actually (Moonstone Cove #2) - Elizabeth Hunter Page 0,64
said, “Something like a wine cave—if you created an event space—would be super popular. People always want a unique experience, and that sort of thing would feel very exclusive.”
“So it’s a sound business decision and good for marketing,” Katherine said. “Why don’t all wineries have caves?”
“Because they’re expensive as hell to dig,” Toni said. “A good-size cave with all the necessary plumbing and air circulation could easily run you in the tens of millions to build from scratch. That is if you even had the right kind of land to build it.”
“So we need to find out if that land is the right kind to dig under,” Katherine said. “I have a few friends in the geology department who could find out.”
“Didn’t Ron the accountant mention a geologist too?” Megan said. “Fairfield might have already consulted with one.”
Katherine nodded. “I’ll ask around. A number of the geologists at Central Coast do outside work. They would be the most local.”
“Cool.” Toni saw the alley of oaks that led to the winery and turned. “For now, let’s focus on some good old snooping at the victim’s place.”
“And wine,” Megan said. “After all, if we’re being sneaky, we might as well enjoy ourselves.”
The tasting room at Fairfield Family Wines really was more like a club than a room. Built on the edge of Ferraro Creek, under a stand of sprawling oak trees, the entire back wall of the winery was made up of giant glass doors that opened to a French-style garden with classical sculptures, scattered tables, and pea-gravel paths leading between the planting beds.
In the distance, Toni saw a raised stage for live music events along with a large built-in barbecue pit and long stone tables.
“This is amazing,” Megan said. “Purely professionally, I completely understand why Pamela was interested.”
Toni tried not to be overly critical. “I guess you can make really pretty stuff when you have endless funds.” The Fairfield winery made her feel small. Nico’s operation was family-run and casual. Visitors could grab a sandwich or tacos from the food trucks in the Cove and have a picnic with a bottle of wine or spend some time inside, tasting the new vintages in the refurbished barn.
They didn’t have sculptures in the garden; they had old farm equipment. Their servers weren’t wearing crisp white shirts and black pants; they wore blue jeans with flannel button-downs over their Drink Dusi T-shirts.
They also didn’t have dozens of visitors in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon, buying wine and souvenirs from the gift shop.
“Good afternoon.” An immaculately dressed server greeted them. “Did you have a reservation?”
“We don’t,” Megan said. “Not really. But Ruben invited us yesterday.”
The young woman smiled. “Of course. Let me call him.”
“Sounds good.”
Katherine strolled along the walls of wine that led to a large gift shop. “I love these tablecloths.”
“The colors are gorgeous.” Megan picked up the edge of a waxed cotton tablecloth with a traditional French pattern on it. “Toni, this would look so cute on your patio outside.”
“That’s okay.” Toni wasn’t buying anything at this place. Not a single, blessed cracker or cork. “I’m good.”
“Maybe I’ll get it for you as a house-warming present.” Megan was looking at the label. “I never got you—”
“Really.” Toni put a hand on the tablecloth and pushed it back to the table. “I’d really rather you didn’t. Not here.”
Megan’s eyes widened. “Got it.”
“Thanks.”
“Ladies?” The server stood a polite distance away. “Ruben has a table set for you in our members’ room.”
“Thank you,” Katherine said. “That sounds very exclusive.”
The server smiled. “If you’ll just follow me.”
She led them toward a small glass-enclosed room with a gorgeous view of the creek and a small footbridge that led from Fairfield’s side of the creek to Nico’s. Unlike the main tasting room where visitors stood at a long bar, in this room servers visited small tables, filling wineglasses, clearing glasses, and bringing plates of fruit and cheese with the wine.
Toni’s stomach flipped and she realized she’d forgotten to eat lunch again. “Well, at least I won’t go hungry.”
The server motioned toward a table with four wineglasses. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll send Marius right over.”
“Marius?” Toni muttered. “No, thanks. No vampire servers for me.”
Katherine cackled, and Megan looked confused.
“What?”
Toni shook her head. “Never mind.” She was being petty. It was nice that Fairfield had built this beautiful place. Nicer that it was close to Nico’s winery. If her cousin put up a better sign, he could probably capture a lot of the traffic from here.