wine, the people—it all comes together to create this heady buzz that’s heaven on earth.
And to think that I made it happen. Yes, I got lucky hiring some of the best staff on the planet, starting with Chef Katie. Beau was there for every meeting, every round of interviews, and Milly played a big part in planning our food and beverage programs too. But I went from quarterback to food and wine director in the space of a few years. During those years, I studied the hospitality industry like a madman. I traveled all over to spend my Saturday nights in the kitchens of the world’s best restaurants. I took courses, shadowed waiters, washed dishes. I cooked. I networked. I filled close to a dozen notebooks with my notes on everything from the proper way to slice prosciutto to how I wanted our guests to feel while dining at Blue Mountain Farm.
When we finally opened The Barn Door, I wanted to take the position of food and wine director knowing I left nothing on the table. I tried my best.
I still try my best. And I’m damn proud of the result. In that respect, I’ve done my family proud.
“Josie,” I clip.
A hostess immediately appears at my elbow. “Yes, Samuel?”
“Take us to our table, please.”
“Right away. We have y’all at seventeen.”
I cut Emma a glance. She shrugs, this smug little thing that enrages me. Olly, my former backup-turned-traitor teammate, was smug like that too. At first, I thought it was just playful indifference, but I learned the hard way it was something much more sinister.
“Heard you had a thing for the night sky,” she says, “so I guessed seventeen was your favorite table. You can see the stars through the window if you blow out the candles. It’s also private and quite cushy. Perfect for a big swinging dick celebrity like yourself.”
I can tell Josie is trying very hard not to laugh as she seats us at the table. It is my favorite, for exactly the reasons Emma mentioned. The booth is a circular swath of butter soft leather tucked into the far corner of the barn. A high window follows the curve of the booth, allowing diners to glimpse nearly three hundred sixty degrees of sky. At night, when the light’s just right, it can be downright magical.
It can also be hell on earth when you’re experiencing it beside Miss Know-It-All. Seeing the flight of wineglasses set out at each place setting is an unwelcome reminder of how long I’ll be stuck here.
I could leave. Walk away. That might even be the smart thing to do.
But just like I was glued to the spot at Emma’s cottage yesterday, I find my legs unwilling to move. I glance across the table and watch Emma settle her napkin on her lap. Her movements are elegant. Restrained. But her eyes flash in the low light, alive and eager.
I sit, my clothes feeling a size too tight as I grab my own napkin.
“I heard you gave Milly some pointers today,” I say, careful to keep my voice even.
Emma nods. “The Slovenian wines, yes. What a cool request.”
“You overstepped your bounds, Emma.” When she opens her mouth to correct me, I hold up my hand. “I spent weeks helping John and Celeste put together a wine list. I pored over my entire cellar and went through every bottle until we found exactly what they envisioned. They want to change that now, fine. But you come to me first. Always. Have you ever planned a beverage menu for a wedding? What about a wedding that’s happening in four weeks? Hundreds of moving parts are involved. You were just telling me how you can’t pair duck with a Riesling. How do you think this is going to affect the food menu? What about the stemware we’ll need? Milly knows her way around the logistics. And you may know your way around wine, but I’m the only one out of all three of us who can make those pieces, plus the hundred others, work together.”
She blinks at me. Chastised. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just heard Slovenia, and Celeste Loo, and my excitement got the better of me.”
My turn to blink. I wasn’t expecting her to back down so easily.
“But”—ah, here it is—“I do have some great ideas for the revised menu. I think we can put together something really special.”
“Of course it will be special. This is Blue Mountain Farm. And I’m in charge.” I nod at