Book 7: Kara
One Week Later
New York has always been one of my favorite places to frequent. Watching a Broadway show is a must every time. It just so happens we were able to snag tickets to see Wicked. I needed something to keep my mind off the wine competition. I thought once Chase and I mated, I’d feel invincible. At least, I hoped I would. Wishful thinking, I know. But here I am, standing in the grandest ballroom in New York, with my stomach in knots. The last time I was in New York, my wine placed third. And, of course, Chase won first.
Hand in hand, Chase and I stroll through the grand ballroom at the Mandarin Oriental. Grand doesn’t begin to describe the lavish room; it’s exquisite. So many A-list celebrities have been here. The three main walls are eighteen-foot floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park with scintillating views of the Manhattan skyline. The room is full of elegance and sparkle, but the three immense, oval chandeliers on the ceiling add to the luxury.
“For someone who loves bright and sparkly things, I have to admit I was shocked when I arrived in Virginia and saw your home. You don’t live the high-profile life.”
We walk past other competitors, and I lower my voice. “Don’t get me wrong, I can afford a multi-million-dollar apartment downtown.” I’ve been working for two centuries. “But it’s not what makes me happy. I just made people think I was high society.” I elbow him playfully in the side. “Now, you, on the other hand, do live the high-profile life with your mansion on the hill.”
Chase pulls me over to a vacant corner in the room. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”
I cup his cheek. “Not at all. I love your home. Then, one day, we’ll pass it on to our son as your parents did with you.”
His grin widens. “Ah, I see. You want to live by the coast in hopes I’ll learn to surf, don’t you?”
In my head, I can picture him on the waves, his skin wet and his muscles tensing as he surfs. Very sexy.
Chase shakes his head and laughs. “I was right.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lean in and kiss him. “I don’t care where we live. As long as we’re together.”
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the 25th annual Somerset Choice Awards.”
Chase and I turn toward the stage, and my heart quickens. The announcer is a middle-aged man with combed-over white hair and a bright smile. Behind him, the judges take their seats so they can be recognized.
“My name’s George Cranfield,” the announcer continues, “and I’ll be your host. Our judges have tasted hundreds of wines the past couple of days, and let me tell you, they are impressed with this year’s contestants.” He flashes his megawatt smile at the crowd. “When the judges sampled the wines, they were looking for seven key components: color, clarity, aroma, bouquet, taste, aftertaste, and overall quality. There will be three winners in each wine category. Are we ready to find out who they are?”
The crowd claps, and several people whistle in response. Very polite and orderly when I know deep down they want to yell at the announcer to hurry the fuck up. Chase’s chuckle echoes in my head. “I was thinking the same thing. These people are impatient, and I can feel it.”
“It’s like that every time at these competitions,” I say back. But, at least I’m not the only one terrified. And I have to admit, I am a little impatient myself.
George starts with all the different white wines first, which takes about an hour to get through. Chase didn’t want to enter his merlot against mine, but that was the only way I would come to the competition. If I want to be the best, I have to beat the best.
Once all the winners gather their medals and prestige, it’s time for the red wine categories. George holds the envelopes in his hand and reads out the first category: Cabernet Sauvignon.
I lean in closer to Chase. “How much you want to bet he announces the merlot winners last?”
The host reveals the Cabernet winners, and Chase claps. “That would be our luck, princess.”
I clap along with everyone else. “Not yours, mine.” Chase has never had bad luck, especially at wine competitions. I, on the other hand, have gotten loads of it over the years.
More people get called to the stage as George announces the Zinfandel, Shiraz, Malbec, and Grenache categories. Merlot has to be coming up next. Holding my breath, I can’t tear my eyes away from George. He has one last envelope in his hand.
Chase murmurs in my ear, “Here we go. Good luck.”
I hook a glance at him and wink, all coolly as if I’m not trying to hold myself together. “Same to you. One of us is bound to win first and second.” I hope.
On stage, George slowly slides a finger across the top of the envelope and pulls out the first card. “All right, ladies and gentlemen, last up we have our Merlot category. And this was the toughest one to judge. There are so many delectable wines that deserve an award.” He lifts the card and smiles. “The third-place winner goes to Cindy and Jack Mayfield of the Cross Creek Winery and Vineyard in Missouri. Congratulations.”
Cindy squeals and jumps into Jack’s arms before bouncing up the stairs to the stage. I met them both on several occasions at other wine competitions over the years. They usually placed in a couple of categories.
“This is their first time placing in the merlot category,” Chase whispers, sounding impressed. “We’re going to have to watch out for them. They’re upping their game.”
Duly noted.
Once Jack and Cindy are off the stage, George gets ready to call out the next winner. I suck in a breath and hold it, knowing it has to be either me or Chase. I’ll be happy if I win second, but it’d be epic to win first.
“The second-place award goes to …” George pauses and smiles at the crowd, “Daniel Forrester of the Pine Ridge Vineyard in Oregon.”
My heart plummets, and I can feel the disappointment creep its way into my gut. “Neither one of us made second.”
Chase wraps his arm around my waist. “It’s not over yet, Kara.”
Holding the tears at bay, I smile at him. “This will be your win. I won’t be happy unless it’s yours.”
He shakes his head. “Have faith, Kara. My merlot is not as good as yours. I have a feeling it’s your name they’ll be calling.”
His words make a glimmer of hope spark in my chest, but I don’t want to hold onto it. George reaches into the envelope for the last card, and his mouth drops open. He turns toward the judges, and they all wave for him to continue.
“What’s going on?” I say into Chase’s mind.
I look over at him, and his brows furrow. “Don’t know.”
George clears his throat, then belts out a laugh. “Well, this is a first. It looks like we have a tie.”
Chase squeezes my hand, and I press back. “Could this really be possible?”
“You’re one of them, princess. I know it.”
One of the judges steps forward, holding two first-place gold medals in her hands. Time ceases to exist as the world slows around me. I want to hear the results, but in a way, I don’t. George opens his mouth to speak into the microphone, but all I can hear is the erratic beat of my heart.
“The first-place winners for the Best Merlot category are Chase Maheegan with the Timberwolf Winery in California and Kara Channon with Channon Vineyards in Virginia.” The room erupts with applause, but I freeze in place. Then, finally, George spots us in the crowd and waves for us to come up on stage. “Come on, you two. Congratulations.”
Chase nudges me and chuckles. “Kara.”
Closing my gaping mouth, I squeeze Chase’s hand as we walk up onto the stage. The female judge hands us both a gold medal and congratulates us. Once the applause dies down, we exit the stage, and I throw my arms around Chase’s neck. It feels like I’m in a dream. I won first place.
“Did that really just happen?” I cry.
Chase laughs. “It did. How does it feel?”
The adrenaline coursing through my body is such a rush. “Amazing,” I breathe.
“You know what this means, right?”
I step back and narrow my eyes. “I’m not sure. What does it mean?”
Chase smirks. “I think it’s about time for a merger. The Timberwolf Winery and Channon Vineyards need to partner up. Just think of all the things we could do together.”
This is how our vision comes to pass. I didn’t see it then, but I do now. My heart swells in my chest, and my eyes burn as the tears well up. Cupping Chase’s face in my hands, I lift up and kiss him.
“There are a gazillion things I can see us doing together right now.” I send him a mental picture of us making love in the hotel room.
Chase winks. “That can be arranged. Does this overwhelming sense of contentment mean you’re on board with partnering up with me? We can fly back and forth from California to Virginia. I think it’ll be fun to work on both vineyards.”
I kiss him again. “I love you so much right now. Us working together is a dream come true. I’m curious to see what happens.”
Chase nods, and I can feel his eternal love for me through our bond. “So am I. We still have our vision to fulfill. Have any ideas on new wines?”
My mind is constantly reeling with new ideas. “I’m sure we can come up with something. The only thing we’re missing from the vision is …”
I stare down at my stomach and waggle my eyebrows. In our vision, I was pregnant.
Chase pulls me in tight to his body. “I say we get out of here and make that happen. Sound good to you?”
“It sounds fantastic. It’ll be the perfect ending to a perfect day.”
Chase’s lips press gently to mine. “And it’s only going to get better.”
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