Chapter Seventeen
The day speeds by in a blur. I spend most of the morning nailing down closing terms for the Prairie properties, in between approving specs for the plans to rebuild the vineyard house, and ordering up both a contractor’s trailer, and a trailer for my winemaker to occupy during the build. There are no B&B’s on Mt. Veeder that aren’t vineyards, and right now, I don’t want anyone in the industry to know what I’m up to. I’ve secured her something down in Yountville, and made reservations for her at the French Laundry for her trouble.
At one, I meet ‘Big Mike’ McCallister over at the fire station. The business plan he emailed me is solid, but I still want to taste the beer. I’ve consumed enough microbrews to recognize good beer when I taste it. And his is… “Very good,” I say
