Chapter 124: Assistant (2)
TL: Hanguk
I brought him into the winery and introduced him to everyone.
"So... um... allow me to introduce my Associate Winemaker. He's joining us rather suddenly today, but isn't life always one surprise after another? Isn't that what makes it fun? Hahaha..."
Truth be told, I was the most flustered person in the room. I knew better than anyone exactly what level his reputation and skill were at.
"Why would someone so distinguished...? A small place like ours..."
Dad was surprised too, but his shock probably had more to do with the halo effect of Warren's winery selling for a staggering 180 million dollars.
"The feeling that there's still something I want to learn makes my heart race. My body may be old, but knowing my mind is still young gives me great satisfaction. My winery is already a thing of the past, so please put that out of your minds. I'm simply here to do the work."
Most of the workers here were on short-term contracts, so Dad was really the only person who needed a proper introduction. In fact, no one besides me was even allowed in the aging cellar. That made things feel a bit easier for me.
After the introductions, I walked him out and said,
"We'll start work in earnest next week. Coming in every day is the baseline... and for the record, the fundamental direction of Redwood's wines is decided by me."
He looked intrigued, a deep smile settling on his lips.
"Everyone else starts scheming about how to take what's in my head, but you really are a bit different."
"It's my wine and my winery. If I weren't going to do it that way, I'd have become an investor instead of a farmer."
Warren couldn't quite make sense of the way the words made it sound as if farmer and investor were simply a matter of choice. After all, simply deciding to become an investor with good returns didn't make it so. But it wasn't important, so he let it pass.
"Understood. Don't worry. The sale agreement nailed it down anyway: I'm not allowed to sell anything even resembling the blending structures of the wines I sold at Stag's Leap. I couldn't make and sell wine the way I used to even if I wanted to."
"That works for me."
"Let me ask just one thing. If you don't even want my knowledge, why did you accept my application?"
"Hmm... because it sounded fun."
He nodded at my answer.
"Same as me, then. That's all that matters."
With that, he climbed into the vehicle parked in front of the farm and drove off. For someone who had made that much money, it was a little unexpected that he'd shown up in a Ford pickup truck.
"Is he just frugal? Then again, showing up in a Rolls-Royce to hand in a resume would be a bit much."
I turned and went back into the winery. Before long, I'd forgotten all about his hiring, holed up in the aging cellar and buried in my research.
The drive from Redwood to the Mondavi winery didn't take long. When Warren arrived, Mondavi, who had been strolling through the garden, beckoned and led him toward a spot ablaze with flowers in full bloom.
"These days I wonder who'd look after all this, if not me."
The scent of flowers in full bloom hung thick around the white table. Warren, who knew how much Mondavi loved this place, gave a bittersweet smile.
"Children don't always follow their parents' wishes. I was the same. My parents wanted me to become a professor."
"That's right. You majored in political science at the University of Chicago, didn't you?"
"Indeed. I was deep into Machiavelli back then. Then, while studying in Italy, I suddenly fell for wine and wandered off the path... and somehow ended up all the way here. If your garden endures, Mr. Mondavi, that will mean something, but even if change comes, wouldn't that mean something too?"
"A sad thought."
"Still, I know how devoted your children are to wine these days, so this garden will likely be kept in good hands."
Everyone knew Mondavi's death was not far off. But these were men who had long since made their peace with death, so their voices stayed calm and their faces serene.
The staff recognized at once that this was an important guest, and without anyone asking, a cup of black tea was set before each of the two men.
"This isn't the thing to say to a man who's sold off his winery, but human greed knows no end, and I'd like this garden, at least, to be kept as it is."
"It will be. And for the record, I'm not feeling all that down."
Looking at Warren, who was beaming from ear to ear, Mondavi tilted his head. There was even a faint flush to his face, as if he'd grown ten years younger. Not that he had actually grown younger; it was the new life in his face that gave off that impression.
"Has something good happened? You're looking well."
"I got a job."
Mondavi froze mid-motion, teacup halfway to his lips.
"You did what?"
"I got a job."
Mondavi slowly set down his cup.
"I heard talk about dropping the non-compete clause from the sale, but that was actually true? They're letting you make wine somewhere else?"
"Let me say it again: I didn't acquire a winery, I 'got a job.' And in exchange for removing the non-compete clause, I additionally agreed never to recreate any of the wine blending combinations I made at Stag's Leap at another winery. So it's literally just employment."
"......"
"It was my first time writing a resume since I joined your family's business, sir, so it was quite a struggle. But once I got going, it turned out to be fun in its own way... I could lay out the whole story of how I've lived my life. It was rather satisfying."
Mondavi didn't hear a word of what followed. He couldn't have cared less what emotions the man felt while writing a resume.
"So where did you take this job?"
"The place you recommended, sir."
"You can't mean... Redwood?"
"Yes."
Mondavi's jaw dropped. After taking a long while to collect his thoughts, he spoke to Warren, who was contentedly sipping his tea.
"That's not why I recommended Redwood to you, you know?"
"What does it matter? I met that young man in person and we talked... and I liked him. His thinking was fresh. So I decided to learn under him."
"You, learning under that boy?"
It was an unbelievable thing to hear, yet Warren spoke with a look of pure excitement.
"Think about it. All this time I've lived arrogantly, believing I had nothing left to learn, and then I found someone who might just be better than me. I felt the way I did back when I worked under you, Mr. Mondavi. That feeling of wanting to learn..."
"Remarkable."
"If anything, I'm glad the winery is gone. If the sale hadn't gone through, I couldn't move this freely. And since my sons have no interest in wine, I'm all the more free to do as I please."
"You're looking happy, aren't you?"
"How often does a man find a joy like this in his final years?"
"Haha... true. You're right a hundred times over."
Mondavi gave a faint smile and gazed at him with genuine envy in his eyes.
"Selling the winery turned out to be a blessing for you, then."
"I've gained fame and I've gained wealth, so now I figure I'll just keep studying until the day I die."
"I envy you. That young man at Redwood must be pleased too? He's about to have every wine lover's eyes on him overnight..."
"I'm not so sure. He spoke as if to say, don't you dare come in and ruin my wine."
At this remark, which seemed to have the audacity to dismiss Warren Winiarski himself, Mondavi's face went incredulous.
"Is thaaat so?"
"That's what makes me look forward to it even more. A winemaker who doesn't lean on me..."
Mondavi had watched the eagerly expectant Warren with envious eyes at first, but as time went on, his expression hardened.
They talked for a long while after that, and when Warren left, Mondavi walked into the winery with a gravely sunken look in his eyes. Just then, a young woman who had come out to meet him spotted her grandfather and approached. It was Emily, Mondavi's granddaughter, the one who had planned the Winkler Dinner course menu with Brian before.
Young and brimming with life, Emily took the arm of her grandfather, who was making his slow way over on his cane, and said,
"Did Grandpa Warren leave already?"
"He did."
Sensing that something was off about his expression, Emily asked,
"Did something bad happen?"
"Not bad, exactly..."
He looked at his granddaughter's face for a moment, then let the stiffness drain from his expression.
"I was just a little worried, that's all. It was nothing."
"Worried about what?"
"Never mind. Come to think of it, it isn't something for me to worry over. I can't be the one to solve everything..."
He shook his head, willing the unpleasant thoughts away, and kept walking.
Word that Warren would be working at Redwood Winery spread in an instant and set the whole Napa area buzzing. And nowhere was more shocked than my own school.
"Is it true that Warren is going to be working at your winery?"
Dean Thomas had summoned me the moment he heard the rumor, that's how badly he needed to ask. Even as dean, he was practically a student before a teacher where Warren was concerned, so he was convinced the rumor couldn't possibly be true.
But my answer left him utterly aghast.
"Well, it's true, but..."
"It's true? You're telling me Warren didn't buy the winery, he actually took a job at yours?"
"Yes..."
Somehow, the mood made it feel like I'd made some terrible mistake. I'd only said yes because working alongside such a great man sounded fun, but the people around me seemed to be reeling as if the sky had fallen.
"Good lord... why on earth?"
If I told him the actual reason on Warren's application, that he wanted to learn precision soil composition and target-based grape production, all hell would break loose. So I hedged.
"He said he's lived under such enormous pressure all this time that he'd rather just quietly make wine at a small place like our farm."
"Ah... so that's what he meant... I suppose a man like him must have lived under even more pressure, what with the whole world's expectations on him."
Watching Dean Thomas strain to put the best face on it, I had to fight back a laugh.
"But won't having Warren at Redwood put a huge burden on the winery instead?"
"Oh, it's not like that. We've agreed he won't actually take the lead on making the wines. He'll just quietly experiment with wine...? It's sort of like a laboratory arrangement, in a way."
"Then why not just do his research in a lab at the school...?"
"Well, that's... I guess he doesn't want to be tied down to a school either."
He nodded and asked again,
"Then we'll be seeing Warren's wines come out of Redwood from now on, won't we?"
"There are no plans for that for the time being."
"Really? Then again... if Warren released wine under his own name, your winery could never afford his salary. And it's not as if you could put out some ultra-expensive cult wine either... Anyway, understood. What a stroke of luck... Lady Luck must be perched on your shoulder. I'm very envious."
"Yes... thank you."
The explanations didn't end with Dean Thomas. Every class I walked into, professors peppered me with questions, and I had to run through the same routine over and over. Tedious as it was, I could put up with that much. I just had to think of it as a form of interest.
But the visitor who showed up around the time school let out was a truly strange one.
"I went to Redwood Winery, and the owner wasn't in. They pointed me to you."
"And you are...?"
"Brad Cooper, Ste. Michelle Wine Estates."
The middle-aged man, his hair slicked neatly back, was strikingly handsome.
"I know the name. You've come from a famous place."
He looked me up and down once, then spoke in a decidedly high-handed tone.
"I heard the news that Warren has joined your winery. In case you haven't been told, he can never again use the blending combinations he used before."
"I know."
"I'm sure you do. Even so, I'd like to give you one warning. When you run a company, there will be times when greed creeps in. You'll be tempted to put out wine trading on Warren's name, but you'll need to resist. One misstep, and your winery will take a serious hit."
"Don't worry about that. It's never going to happen."
But he lifted one corner of his mouth and gave a faint snort.
"Heh. Will that resolve really last? You'd best not forget that we'll be watching."
That got under my skin a little.
"Suit yourself. But then, I'm perfectly capable of making good wine without Warren... ah, though since Ste. Michelle doesn't have the ability to make that kind of wine, I'm not sure you'd even be able to judge mine."
Ste. Michelle Wine Estates was a company that had grown on consistent quality and large-scale production. With its flagship lines priced at ten to thirty dollars a bottle, it was fair to say its whole direction was different from Stag's Leap's.
Since Ste. Michelle had climbed into the top ranks of the American wine industry on exactly that approach, my words seemed to have struck a nerve with Vice President Brad. His face hardened as he spoke.
"Listen, you little Asian brat. Keep puffing up your pride over a few dozen acres of farmland and a Warren who can't even use his skills, and the day will come when you regret it dearly."
"I keep telling you, I'm not relying on Warren... How about you start by beating me at the next San Francisco Chronicle? Ah, Ste. Michelle won't cut it, so I suppose you'll have to enter with Stag's Leap. Either way, work hard over there. And don't mind us."
I walked past him with a smile as he glared at me, teeth clenched.
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