Brody - Ellie Masters Page 0,35
and apologizing will come later. I owe her that much. I actually owe her a hell of a lot more, but I can’t get there until I deal with the barriers she erects between us now.
“But we don’t have a ‘new exclusive vintage.’” Poor Mark uses air quotes. He keeps checking with Grace, taking his lead from her.
“Mark’s right about that.” Grace shifts, twisting slightly away from me. “How are we supposed to make that materialize out of thin air?”
“It’s called creating demand for a limited product. As you stated in your proposal, you have limited stock on hand to sell.”
“Correct?” She’s hesitant but listening.
“First, we stop all future sales.”
“We need those sales if we’re going to avoid going bankrupt. We’re counting on that revenue…”
I hold up a hand to reassure them.
“Scarcity is your greatest commodity right now. Step one is repackaging and rebranding. Atwood Estates is a small, family-run winery catering to the astute purveyor of fine wine. That’s your selling point. We’ll work on a snappier tagline, but that’s your vision statement. You’re not going to compete against the big corporate wineries with their cheap, store-bought wines. Do that and fail. We fulfill whatever orders you currently have and stop any new orders. Temporarily, at least, until the rebranding is complete. We’re going to market Atwood Estates as an exclusive commodity. Impossible to get unless you’re on a very select list. In fact, we’ll make it a waiting list. People must apply, and be approved, before they may set up accounts to be exclusive vendors. Before you know it, you’ll have people lining up to be a part of the new VIP club. That’s our goal.”
“I’m a little uncomfortable with this.” Mark leans back and takes a sip from his iced tea. “This really works?”
“Only if we drive up demand.” I glance at Grace. “This is where Friday comes in play.” She thinks it’s all about me getting her alone—which in many ways it is—but I’m a shrewd businessman. I already know how we’re going to save her company. “The benefit is for childhood cancer, which is great, but irrelevant as far as we’re concerned. The theme is the Culinary Masters of California. All the top chefs will be in attendance. We’re going to take what you have now, and I’m assuming it passes basic quality standards…”
“Our wine is exemplary.” Mark puffs out his chest.
Of course, I already know this. I spent all Saturday night and Sunday trying out their product. Asher thought I was nuts, but he tasted and approved the wine. It’s good. Top shelf, in fact.
“We offer each of the attending chefs one bottle as a gift, and then we pair your wine with their dishes at the event and offer that to the guests. That gets your brand in the faces of not only the chefs but the movers and shakers of the area. We donate another couple of bottles for the auction. People love exclusive. While there, I’ll make introductions to those who can benefit you the most. We’ll establish exclusive agreements with those in attendance. Grace is there to seal the deal.”
“And what about Mark?” Grace once again shifts away from me, but there’s no place for her to go.
I rest my hand on her thigh and watch her reaction. All she’s given me is cold and distant. I need a sign I’m not wrong about the attraction smoldering between us. I’ll push, but only so far. There are lines I won’t cross.
The muscles of her thigh tense. She reaches down. Her delicate fingers wrap around mine, and there’s the slightest hesitation the moment our hands connect. Since I’m specifically watching for it, the catch in her breathing is unmistakable. She wants to hate me and hold the sins of my past over my head, but our connection is still there. It’s frayed and singed but not completely severed.
“Unfortunately, the tickets I have for the event are only for two.” I turn my hand over, and our palms press against each other for the briefest second before I release her and remove my hand from her leg. “It has to be Grace.”
The breath she takes falters and is full of the chemistry sizzling between us. I just have to coax the rest of that energy out and let it grow from there. I shift away, placing space between our legs. It’s time to let up on the pressure and give her some breathing room.
“You have to go.” Mark gives a nod. “Besides,