Aged for Death, page 21
“We will get the original bottle back. Never mind the wine. More than ever now, the item itself has become part of our story. Olivia, you have saved us. I cannot thank you enough for what you have done. Thanks to your investigation, we can open our doors again and can benefit fully from the late summer tourist sales.”
Nadia nodded. “If it were not for you, we would be sunk! I will soon catch up with my winemaking and will be back on track if I work a few twelve-hour days,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Alexander smiled. “What an unexpected pleasure to have been part of such an unforgettable episode in La Leggenda’s history,” he said. “Olivia, I, too, am at your service. You have cleared my name. It was a frightening experience to be wanted by the police. Up until now, my only brushes with the law have been in the form of speeding fines.”
“Thank you, Olivia,” Marcello said again.
He stared at her, and for a moment it was as if they were the only two people in the room. That look was back on his face again. Olivia felt the room grow fuzzy around her. The only thing—or things—that seemed in sharp, clear focus were Marcello’s deep blue eyes.
And then the moment was shattered by Gabriella’s furious, piercing voice.
“Perhaps you wouldn’t all be such fans of Olivia if you knew who she really is, and what she has done!”
The restaurateur had arrived at their table. She stood, glaring triumphantly down at Olivia.
Her heart plummeted. The moment she’d dreaded had finally arrived.
For Gabriella, this was payback time.
Olivia wondered if there was any chance that the tasting room’s sparkling clean, granite-tiled floor might open and swallow her up. It was her only hope for avoiding the disastrous consequences that she knew would follow Gabriella’s bombshell.
The floor remained stubbornly solid. Even it was not on her side at this crucial moment.
“What do you mean?” Marcello asked Gabriella, sounding confused and doubtful. “What are you saying Olivia has done?”
“Olivia used to work for Valley Wines,” Gabriella spat the words out. “She did all the advertising and marketing for that brand in her previous career in the United States. She is the reason those wines achieved such prominence and made so many other good wineries go broke. She is the reason so many people ended up drinking that—that cleaning fluid! I bet she did not tell you that?” Gabriella paused.
Marcello gave a tiny shake of his head. Olivia couldn’t read his expression.
“See? It was her dirty little secret until I overheard Vernon Carrington on the night of the auction, asking if she had been fired after the winemaking facility was raided and they found the rats!”
Olivia couldn’t look at Gabriella as she triumphantly uttered the words. She stared down at the table, taking in the fine, polished grain of the wood. Strong, solid wood. It had been there before she arrived at the winery, and it would be there after Marcello dismissed her. The table would endure. Olivia’s job? Not so much.
“Now you know. You know who she is. And you know what she has done, the things she never chose to tell you. She is not fit to be even a guest at the winery, never mind to work for our prestigious establishment!”
Gabriella took a deep breath, clearly intending to drive a few more nails into the coffin of Olivia’s sommelier career at La Leggenda, but at that moment, there was a shout from the restaurant, even as a sweet, charred smell wafted out.
“Gabriella, come quick! The schiacchiata alla fiorentina is burning!”
With a muffled curse, Gabriella turned on her stiletto heel and ran back into the restaurant.
Olivia fixed her gaze on the table, waiting in despair for the hammer blow to fall.
CHAPTER THIRTY
It seemed like hours before the tense silence was broken, and then it was Nadia who spoke.
“I don’t understand,” she said, sounding confused.
“What do you not understand, Nadia?” Marcello asked.
Olivia glanced at him appealingly, hoping for a final reprieve.
“I thought we only made the schiacchiata alla fiorentina cake during carnival, in February,” Nadia explained.
Marcello shook his head. “We started presenting small slices to the restaurant guests as a sweet treat, with their coffee. The variety made with orange zest. They loved it so much that it has become a permanent fixture.”
Nadia nodded. “Well, I guess Gabriella will have to remake it. Serves her right for being so moody. Marcello, you should have a talk with her. It is not acceptable to shout at co-workers in public the way she just did.”
Marcello rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Do you think I have not tried to reason with her in the past? I will try again, as soon as the new schiacchiata is in the oven.”
Olivia couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. This entire conversation felt surreal. They were talking about cake. Cake! What about firing her? When would that happen? Or was she meant to just get up and leave?
Nadia glanced sympathetically at her.
“I am sorry you have had to listen to her being so nasty, Olivia,” she sympathized.
Olivia’s hands were shaking and she buried them in her lap so nobody would see.
“But what she said…?” she began in a small voice.
Marcello frowned. “About Valley Wines?” He looked perplexed, as if this insight into the subtleties of womankind was too complex for him to fathom. “Why would she think that was a problem? I do not understand.”
He tilted his glass, as if the remaining sip of ruby-red wine might provide some insight.
“Blaming you for that was bizarre,” Nadia consoled her. “As if you can be criticized for doing your job well. I think it is rather funny, actually. You were not dealt a good hand of playing cards there! Imagine having to promote such terrible wine, as a wine lover! That is making me want to laugh. Not shout. Like I said, Marcello, you need to speak to Gabriella about how she behaves toward others.”
“I will,” he promised. “For the time being, Olivia, will you walk outside with me? There is something that I want to ask you in private.”
Olivia got up. She felt wrung out, as if she’d lived through ten lifetimes while sitting there in the comfortable wooden chair, expecting the hammer to fall.
All her fears had been for nothing, and her job was safe. In fact, the Vescovis seemed mildly amused by the secret that Gabriella had revealed.
It was as if the massive bomb explosion she’d anticipated had fizzled out, without so much as a tiny spark.
The thought of a private conversation with Marcello soon restored the spring to her step. As she followed him outside into the bright, warm sunshine, it occurred to her that everything might, just possibly, turn out for the best.
They walked into the shade of the big olive tree and Marcello cleared his throat. To Olivia’s surprise, he now seemed nervous.
“I must make it clear, this is just a question. Just a question,” he emphasized. “You must please not agree to it, or even consider it, unless you are sure.”
“What is it?” Now Olivia was just about jumping up and down with curiosity. What could Marcello be going to say?
Marcello picked a leaf off the tree and twirled its deep green oval form between his fingers.
“I have been looking for someone who could handle our marketing,” he confessed at last. “La Leggenda is sorely in need of it. It has not been given enough attention. And, with the acquisition of Franco’s winery, we are in desperate need of somebody who can put together a proper campaign for these wines, to promote them properly, so that they appeal to the consumer and get the sales they deserve.”
Olivia stared at him with the beginnings of hope in her heart. Was this conversation really going the way she thought it was?
“I knew you were in marketing, but I had no idea you had handled such big, relevant campaigns. You would be the perfect person to lead us in this venture, if you want. Obviously, not if you hated it and never want to do it again. We would increase your salary accordingly. And you could continue working at the tasting room as our head sommelier for part of the time also, as I know your passion is there.”
Olivia finally found the breath to speak.
“I accept,” she said breathlessly. “I adore marketing! To be honest, although I never thought I would, I’ve missed doing it, and I’d love to use my experience in helping to promote your amazing wines. And if I was able to do it in addition to my tasting room work—well, that’s the perfect career for me. Right there! Custom made! I couldn’t ask for anything more satisfying.”
Her mind was already buzzing with ideas on where to position these wines, and how the taglines of the La Leggenda premium wines would need to differ from the affordable, easy-drinking ones.
All her experience and enthusiasm was bubbling up, ready to spill over into a brand new direction.
What a beautiful day it was, she thought, suddenly feeling as if Marcello had picked her up and placed her on top of the world, on a fluffy cloud of happiness.
Their day trip to Pisa seemed so long ago. Olivia recalled how she’d felt on that day—as if life couldn’t possibly get any better—and she’d immediately feared that it never would.
Now, standing under the magnificent olive tree and looking forward to an exciting future, she was sure it could.
*
Olivia stepped into the hallway of her farmhouse.
It looked so different from the first day she’d pushed open the door. Now, it was light and bright, with the windows cleaned, the floors polished, and an elegant, medium-sized chandelier installed, which her mother had chosen from a catalog and paid for.
She breathed in the rich, delicious aroma of the Italian beef stew that was simmering in the slow cooker, with the flavors of garlic and wine permeating the house. After a full day in the pot, she knew that this stew would have reached a state of tender perfection.
Olivia headed into the kitchen and gave the stew a final stir. She opened a bottle of the special Miracolo red and took out three glasses in preparation for when her guests would arrive.
At that moment, she heard a knock on the front door and rushed to answer it.
It was Danilo.
He was holding a large box of chocolates in his hand, and he had a brown leather jacket slung over his shoulder. Although the days were hot, the evenings were cooling down, and Olivia hoped that tonight would be an opportunity to light the fire in her living room for the very first time.
His hair—she hesitated, the welcoming smile and friendly greeting freezing on her lips.
The top of his hair was bright blue.
“Good evening,” Danilo said, kissing her on her cheeks. “Congratulations on your new home. And I hear the winery is open again. Does that mean your investigation was successful? I cannot wait to know the full story!”
Olivia was only half-listening to him. She was fascinated by his hair.
“I’ll tell you everything. It’s quite a saga. The goat helped, and there was a lot of luck involved. But I need to know something, too.” She pointed. “What happened?”
I apologize for my hair.” Danilo shook his head, looking frustrated. “It is all the fault of the daughter of my sister—how do you say the English word?”
“Niece?” Olivia asked.
Danilo nodded. “The niece of my sister. It is all her fault! She is studying to be a hairdresser. As my sister lives down the road from me, I am the closest victim. So, every week or two, she does something different. This time, I had to bargain with all my power to stop her from coloring it pink. It is very difficult for me,” he sighed. “Left to myself, I would have the same hairstyle all the time. I wouldn’t change it for twenty years. It is what I prefer!”
Olivia laughed.
“I’ve been wondering about that. Well, it’s one mystery solved. Thank you for the chocolates. Come through to the kitchen and let’s pour some wine. I bought a gift bottle for you as a thank-you.”
As Olivia headed through to the kitchen, she spotted something shadow-like on the gleaming floor.
Looking closer, she screeched in alarm and jumped back.
She thought she’d gotten rid of all the spiders. She really did! But here was one last, massive, long-legged outlier, crouched in the shade of the skirting board.
With a terrified squawk, Olivia amended that. It wasn’t crouched in the shade. It was scuttling out of the shadows, in their direction.
She sprinted into the kitchen.
“Spider!” she shrieked, and pointed with a shaking finger in its direction. “Danilo, can you help? Take it out! Make it go away!”
To Olivia’s astonishment, Danilo didn’t even attempt to save her from the spider. Instead, in one giant leap, he joined her in the safety of the kitchen. He wrapped his arm around her protectively before slamming the door with a yelp of horror.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
“I have a confession, Olivia,” Danilo stammered. “I, too, am terrified of spiders. That last small one you wanted me to remove—it took all my courage. I had nightmares for days! I could not wear that shirt again afterward, and gave it to my nephew. But this spider is too big. It is beyond my powers to help.”
Olivia’s mind reeled at this shocking revelation. She felt as if the entire foundations of her reality had been undermined.
Arrogant, muscular, laughing Danilo, reduced to a quivering wreck in the presence of arachnids?
“What if it comes under the door?” Olivia asked, wrenching her attention back to the crisis at hand.
Danilo glanced toward the courtyard.
“We may have to retreat farther, into your beautiful herb garden, and there will be no shame in doing so. We cannot kill it. It is a beautiful being of nature, who deserves to survive. But so do we. So we must hide away.”
“We could put dish towels under the gap in the door and wait till Charlotte gets here. She’s not afraid of spiders, and will be able to take it safely outside,” Olivia suggested.
“I think that is a brave plan. How many do you have?”
A minute later, three carefully folded dish towels filled every micron of space in the small gap under the door.
“Have some wine,” Olivia said, letting out a deep breath of relief. “It’s the Miracolo. I splashed out and bought a bottle for us tonight, and another bottle for you as a thank-you.”
Olivia was pleased to see how delighted Danilo looked.
She poured the wine, and they drank, savoring the magnificent red blend, with its complexity of flavors and amazing smoothness.
“What is that?” Danilo asked, looking at the other bottle set out on the counter.
“Oh, that’s an old bottle I found while clearing out the barn. The label’s not really legible. I was thinking of keeping the bottle as a memento, because it must be part of the history of this place, with its strange, worn label, which I could get cleaned up. Then again, this afternoon I started to wonder if the wine inside was still drinkable. It might be fun to try it. What do you think?”
Danilo had picked up the bottle and was examining it, fascinated.
“Olivia, this is a rare find. Please, do not open it. Keep it somewhere safe and let us try to find an expert who could give you more information on it. A lot of the area’s winemaking history has been lost. This could be an important part of it.”
“Really?” Olivia felt thrilled that her dusty old bottle might end up playing a role in the area’s heritage. She was delighted all over again by the luckiness of the find, and the fact the glass hadn’t broken under her spade.
“It might even be a bottle from this farm itself,” Danilo added casually.
Olivia stared at him in amazement.
“This was a wine farm?” she asked.
Danilo nodded.
“Liora, who owns the hardware store, told me last week that her grandfather knew it well. It was one of the most famous and successful in the area, but nobody knows why it went out of business, or what happened to make the owners move away. It is a mystery.”
Olivia felt astounded by his words.
She felt shivers tingle all the way down her spine at the thought that the property had now come full circle, and might, if she were lucky, produce wine again.
“I won’t drink the bottle, but I’m fascinated to know more about it, especially if it might be from this farm. Can you find out who might be able to help?”
Danilo nodded.
“I will do some research as soon as possible.”
At that moment, the front door latch rattled and they heard the sound of footsteps outside.
“Charlotte!” they screamed in unison. “Spider!”
*
It was almost dark by the time they headed outside into the breezy evening, Olivia leading the way as they walked down to the old barn.
“That stew was magnifico. A masterpiece,” Danilo said.
Charlotte nodded. “It was delicious. Stew, ciabatta bread, chocolates, and great wine. The Italians know how to enjoy life, that’s for sure. I’m so glad I was here for your first-ever dinner party, in your first-ever farmhouse!”
“I couldn’t have asked for better company,” Olivia said, smiling at the others.
“So you found the bottle in this barn?” Danilo asked.
“Yes.” Heading toward the gap where the door should be, Olivia trod carefully along the curved pathway that seemed to have been naturally created as a result of all her trips between the house and the barn.
They peered inside the murky building and Charlotte shone her phone’s flashlight onto the pile of rubble which, Olivia was concerned to see, looked as if it had grown again.
“It is a beautiful space,” Danilo said admiringly. “I can see now that this was custom-built as a winemaking room. That makes your job easier. You will soon renovate it.” He peered closer at the mountain of trash. “Once it has been cleaned out,” he added, sounding more doubtful.
“It’s going to be a big job,” Olivia agreed. “I’ll have to tackle it carefully, bit by bit, to avoid breaking or losing anything else important.”
