“That isn’t what’s going on.”
“It is or you would have waited downstairs like a normal human being.”
His eyes cut in a way that surprised me. It felt both intimate and mean.
I felt my anger rise up. “Just let me buy the vineyard back. I’ll give you interest for your trouble, higher than anything you’d have made in the bank.”
He shook his head. “I made a deal with your father in good faith, and he wants to honor that deal. That doesn’t make me a jerk. That makes me someone who isn’t going to change plans because his daughter is panicking.”
“Stop pretending this is about my father. It’s about your business model telling you to take on his type of vineyard for reasons that have more to do with money than anything you’re admitting out loud.”
He shook his head, irritated. “Whatever.”
“And we both know the worst part of that transaction. You’re going to change his vineyard into a lesser version of itself. You’re going to destroy it.”
“We’re not going to destroy . . .” Jacob paused, his face red. “Your father knows what he signed on for by selling to us.”
“I’m just asking you to let me hold on to the vineyard until I can find someone to run it who will do it like he did.” I got quiet. “You know, for when he realizes how much it still matters to him.”
He stared at me, like he’d heard me on that. This was about my father and it was about me. It was about me feeling like I was the one person who understood what my father actually needed. And maybe also what the vineyard did. The vineyard needed to stay in our family. It was as much a member of it as the rest of us. It was the shining member that brought us together again, and reminded us it was the most important place to be.
Jacob met my eyes and paused. It seemed like he had heard me, like he saw me. And it seemed like he was going to do the right thing.
But then slowly, evenly, he shook his head. “Your father is welcome to stay on and help run the vineyard. He knows that we would love to have him. He knows that was our preference.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Wow, just when I thought you might understand. You’re just a corporate asshole.”
He laughed. “Name-calling. That’s a good tactic.”
“You have the cute office in Yountville, it’s a good front, but this is where the dirty work gets done. The factory. The factory with your asshole board and your punch-the-clock workers. And everyone else who could care less about making good wine, who could care less about what my father has spent his entire life doing.”
He put his hands up. “You know what? I’m done. I don’t need to explain myself. I’m trying to do a good thing for this company. I’m using vineyards like your father’s as models for more sustainable winemaking, for us to generate a better product. That’s a rough road with these guys. It’s an expensive road. Not that you give a shit, but you’re making it a hell of a lot harder.”
He turned back to his trunk, really angry now.
“You need to stay away from here. And me.”
“Believe me, that’s all I want.”
“Really? So why do you keep showing up here, then?”
He started to close the trunk, which was when I noticed a duffel to the side of the files. His toothpaste and toothbrush on top. He followed my eyes and closed the trunk the rest of the way, slamming it shut.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
He laughed. “Now you care?”
“Did you have a fight with Lee or something?”
“No, I just thought it would be a fun change of pace to sleep on an old mattress at the Yountville Inn.”
He started walking toward the factory, picking up the pace, trying to get away from me. I struggled to keep up, Jacob looking up at the sky as he walked, as if that was the only way he could think of to avoid making eye contact.
“Look, I’m doing the best I can to take over this company. That’s my priority and that’s what I need to focus on now. As far as I can see, you and I have nothing to talk about anymore.”
“So what? I should call your lawyer with any additional questions?”
“Just don’t call me, okay?”
Then he looked up at the sky again.
“It’s definitely going to rain,” he said. “Your father needs to take those grapes off the vines now.”
“That’s what you have to say?”
He headed for the factory door, not turning back. “What do you want me to say? That’s what matters.”