Clementine in her very office, looking like that. “It’s already been a day. How was yours?” She gestured to one of the three seating options in the room, the two chairs along the wall perpendicular to her desk and the more comfortable one directly across from her, which Clementine selected.
“My day. A haze of dough, flour, people, and credit cards. How was yours?” She seemed softer this afternoon, but then the vineyard had a way of doing that. People relaxed when they came to Tangle Valley. She’d seen it happen time and time again.
“Grapes, coffee, a cheddar biscuit, more grapes, and adrenaline.” She offered a wary grin. “Harvest day is big.”
“And it’s the pinot,” Clementine said. “Thin skins, if my time in this town has taught me anything.”
“You would be right about that. The pinot requires a lot of extra care and love. It’s delicate.”
“I look forward to giving it a try once it’s ready.”
“You’ll only have to wait a couple of years.” Madison offered a wink.
“You have to have so much patience for winemaking. Luckily, my biscuits plump up in fifteen minutes.”
“Which is why they are a wonder of the world. Shall we talk about the café?”
“Okay, but I want to say something first.” Clementine moved to the edge of her chair as if preparing for something important. “I realize that no business owner wants to cough up more money, especially when the business in question is already profitable. But I know in my heart that your investment would be a wise one, and I would personally work to show you firsthand. So before you say no to my requests, just consider—”
“I don’t plan to say no.”
Clementine paused, clearly not expecting that response. “You don’t?”
“No.” Madison laughed at the look of shock on Clem’s face. She clearly wasn’t used to getting her way. “You’re right. Buying local is definitely the best course of action, especially when you and Frankie, who I trust, think it will make such a difference in the food. I’m also approving your requested salary. You’re worth it, and I need you desperately.” She frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t reveal that.”
Clementine offered the smallest hint of a smile, and Madison felt warm. She liked seeing Clem happy. She still hadn’t said anything, though.
“This is all good news, right?” Madison asked.
Clementine gave her head a shake. “Sorry. No. Of course, it’s good. I’m just taking it in. What about the small repairs I mentioned?”
“I have a call in to Ryan. She’s going to send Billy out. He’ll talk paint colors with you, too.”
“That would be amazing.” A real smile this time. Maybe Clementine was beginning to understand that Madison wasn’t the enemy.
“Hey,” Madison said, standing. “Want to look in on the harvest?”
Clementine seemed surprised by the invitation. “Sure. I mean, if I wouldn’t be in the way. I know you’re slammed.”
“Of course not.” Madison walked her out to the action, where Joey was quick to swoop in and hand her a glass of their most current vintage of pinot.
“To get you in the proper mood for harvest,” Joey said.
Clementine raised her glass and grinned. “Well, now I’m ready for action.”
She and Joey had always gotten along well, and now Madison wondered why she’d never spent more time with Clem herself. “Follow me,” Madison said with a raise of her eyebrow.
✥ ✥ ✥
Clementine reveled in the fresh air of the autumn afternoon and felt a little bit of her daily stress float off her heavy shoulders. She was on a gorgeous vineyard in the middle of harvest and refused to miss the opportunity to soak it all in. The sunshine. The friendly people. The hum of excitement that seemed to drape everything. The smile on her face was authentic and her joy much needed these days.
“Pinot, as gratifying as it is to grow and sculpt, can be frustrating,” Madison offered, midway through their short tour of the vines. Clementine walked side by side with Madison, realizing that they were nearly the same height. If anything, she maybe had half an inch on Madison.
Clementine chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’ve heard that before. Delicate, right?”
“Very. And the grapes are small. So is the yield.” Madison slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. There was dirt on the knees, a sign she’d been doing some picking of her own. Yet she still looked beyond amazing in them. Go figure. “Some winemakers add the juices from other grape varietals to bolster their pinot, but I think I’d rather