Page 31 of A Sip of Sherry
Brick walls, aged and uneven, held a lifetime of private conversations.Wooden beams stretched low across the ceiling.A faint scent of cedar, oak and the unmistakable essence of wine lingered in the air.Rows of dark stained oak shelves lined the walls, filled with bottles from all over the world.Some labels faded, some written in foreign languages, and others were more current, from friends in the wine community.Two tufted leather chairs sat in the center of the room, facing each other, the ghosts of the past still in conversation.
“This was my grandfather’s personal collection.His pride and joy.”I ran my finger along the shelf that held all his favorite bottles, preserved just how he left it and how it will stay in his honor.
Ben’s eyes widened as he stepped into the room, scanning the shelves.“This is amazing.”
“I come in here every now and again when I miss him.I can picture him in that chair, glass of wine in hand, leg kicked up on his knee.He used to swirl the glass like it held all the answers, then take a sip and tell me something profound I didn’t fully understand until years later.”
The corners of my mouth lifted at the memories, but my chest tightened, the ache slipping into my heart as the loss settled in.
Ben moved deeper into the room, his hand resting on the back of one of the chairs.“It’s got soul.Feels like he could walk in at any moment and ask us what the hell we’re doing in his space.”
A laugh broke through the aches.“He was territorial about this room.He said it was where real decisions were made.”
Ben turned to me, his eyes warm.“Thank you for sharing it with me.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.“You’re the first person I’ve brought in here since he’s passed.”This wasn’t just a place.It was my grandfather’s heartbeat frozen in time, and I knew Ben would appreciate it in the way it deserved.
His expression gentled.“That means a lot.”
I glanced around the room, taking in the brick walls, the perfectly imperfect shelves, the bottles that had traveled farther than I ever had.“He built this all with a single vine.Did you know that?”
“I did.It’s kind of the town’s pride.Everyone talks about it.”
Joy at Grandpa’s legacy spread through me.
Ben closed the gap between us, his gaze locking on the bottles behind me.His eyebrows drew together, a flicker of something unreadable crossed his features.Curiosity poked at me.
“What is it?”I asked.
He took a sleek black bottle with a modern label stark against the old-world elegance of the rest of the collection.His fingers stilled on the name.
“That’s one of the few bottles that was never cataloged.I’ve always meant to ask Laurent about it.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched.“It’s nothing,” he said too fast, but his eyes never left the label.
I stepped closer, looking at the modern script.“Redmark Reserve.Do you know it?”
He nodded, body stiff.
I took the bottle from his hands and admired the sharp, minimalist design.“If I remember correctly, it was a private label that was doing really well, and then it just disappeared.
“It tanked.Hard.A couple of distribution deals fell through, and everything else unraveled because of it.It was supposed to be… something.It ended before it ever really started.”His voice was tight, an undertone of bitterness sticking to his words.
“How do you know all that?”
His eyes closed, silence spreading between us.His chest rose and fell with a deep breath.“It was my label.”
“Yours?”My brows shot up.“How?Why?What are you doing working here as a warehouse manager?”
His shoulders stiffened, and for a second, I thought he would take off with a silent fuck you.I wouldn’t blame him.Pain tugged at the corner of his eyes, his face hardened, and he looked like a stone that was about to crumble.
“I didn’t have a choice.I have debts I need to repay.”
The bottle felt heavier in my hands as I placed it in its proper home.“My grandfather didn’t just put any bottle in this room.He only put bottles in here of wines he felt were the best of the best.”
His cheek puckered in as if he were chewing on the inside.“I sent it to him.He passed shortly after.It probably got put in here by accident.”
“There were no accidents when it came to my grandfather.If your bottle is in here, it’s because he thought it belonged here.”I turned to him, seeing cracks beneath his charm.“Wait… You sent it to him?”Confusion pulled at my eyebrows.“Why?”
