It has a prize of ten thousand dollars, and I know we could really use the money right now.”
It breaks my heart that she’s even thinking about money. “Shouldn’t you put that money aside for school if you win?”
Her mouth pulls to the side. “I overheard Mom and Dad fighting. Is it true we’re going to lose the house?”
Ugh. I know I should be honest, but she’s still a kid. I don’t want her to worry. “No. You must’ve misheard them. Everything’s fine,” I lie. “We’ve got a solid plan in place to grow the business and turn things around quickly.” I tap the end of her nose. “Soon we’ll be making enough to send you to the Culinary Institute of America in New York.” I know going there is her dream. Eliza wants to go to Le Cordon Bleu in Paris.
“I’m not holding my breath. The tuition alone costs over a hundred grand.”
Yikes. That is a lot.
“But the institute here has a summer program—one month, ten thousand dollars,” she adds. “Maybe I can go to that? I mean, at least I’ll have it on my résumé—that is if you really think things are going to turn around?”
I smile with encouragement. “I think that’s a great idea, but let’s not give up on getting you into your dream school, okay?” I know we can at least get her into the state university here. They have loans and whatnot. It’s not her dream though. “Oh, and hey, I’m looking at what it would take to enter our new wine in the big tasting championship in New York. If we get in, maybe you can come along, and we could tour the school while we’re there.”
“Seriously?” Her big brown eyes light up. “New York?”
Maybe I spoke too soon. “Well, a lot has to happen first.” Having a great wine would be a nice start. Then we need to submit it for consideration. Plus there’s travel expenses and a hotel. I’m hoping that Castle Sangria might be willing to front the costs. We could pay them back out of our future profits. “But let’s keep that between us for now. I’d hate to get everyone’s hopes up.” They only take the best of the best wines from around the country. The initial qualifying samples are due next month. They have to be sent in blind with a number, no winery label, and you have to pay a courier to hand carry the entry on a private plane. Shipping wines by car or truck agitates the sediments and changes the flavor. It’s even a risk to fly with it, but that’s your best bet to deliver the bottle with the flavor fully intact. Flying commercial won’t work because they limit the amount of liquids you can carry, and I’m not about to put our wine in the belly of a plane, where the temperature might not be controlled.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Mabel says.
“What are we talking about?” Mom enters the kitchen. She looks tired—dark circles under her eyes and a somber vibe.
“Oh, uh…” I think fast. “I’m going over to Castle Sangria later to work on the new wine. I didn’t want Dad to get upset. I know he’s not a fan of Mr. Bozhidar.”
My mom swipes her hand through the air. “Your father just worries, that’s all.”
Mabel raises a brow. “I dunno, Mom. I’m going to side with Dad on this one. Something about that man feels off.”
“Like what?” I laugh. Everyone’s so paranoid. I don’t get it.
“Like…the way he looks at you,” Mabel says, widening her eyes comically. “Reminds me of a wolf sizing up a juicy lamb.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s just intense. Okay, and he’s a little eccentric.” But those eyes…they scream bedroom.
“Oh, and let’s not forget handsome,” Mom chimes in with a swooning effect to her voice.
“Whatever, I have to get ready for work,” Mabel says.
Mabel has a summer job at the small French bistro down the road, working in the kitchen.
“Have fun,” Mom says to Mabel. She turns to me. “And you don’t have too much fun.”
I shake my head.
My mom waits until Mabel’s out of the kitchen. “Honey, I didn’t want to bring this up, because I know how smart you are and how dedicated you are to helping Stellariva, but maybe I should say something. I noticed how Mr. Bozhidar was looking at you too. And you gave him your share of looks back, but is it really wise to get involved with a