The Beast of Napa

12 - Interests

Patrick had been training Catriona for a week. He taught her about social customs, business practices, finances, and how to use charm to make sales. He did it in secret, to Catriona's relief. She didn't want Griffin to know. He would see her as incapable or unfinished; and realizing how true it was made her want to hide from his sight until she was capable of great things. Griffin was a man of reputation and status, and she had nothing. She had never owned anything. And her lack of ownership went beyond diamonds and property, but extended into character and reputation. She didn't have charms like Rose or Patrick. She wasn't particularly witty or intelligent. Lost in her odd jobs, she never had time to socialize. And she was a joke to anyone she had worked for.

Realizing all of these things, she studied hard under Patrick's guidance, mimicking his methods of speaking and acting around others. Perhaps if she was a great student, she could find her reputation and character hidden in the wreckage. That was the only chance she had at impressing the great Nathaniel Griffin.

And as the days passed, she wanted nothing more than to impress him.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

"May I introduce you to a fantastic winemaker in the area?" Catriona rehearsed, speaking softly to the grapes. "An astounding label, founded in 1879 by an Italian couple from –"

"I hope I'm not paying you for this nonsense," Griffin's voice boomed behind her.

She spun around, only to realize that Griffin was not speaking to her but to the gentlemen sitting under the vines in the next row over. They scrambled to their feet.

"The north side has already been pruned –" one of the men started.

"Then go to the east side," Griffin returned. "If you aren't useful where you are, go find someplace you can be."

The men agreed and walked off. Catriona heard Griffin give a deep sigh, his footsteps crunching closer to her row. She turned her head and kept her eyes on her sheers, pretending she hadn't heard anything.

"You're still out here?" Griffin asked.

Catriona carefully looked over her shoulder. This time, Griffin was speaking to her. His blue eyes caught a bit of the sunlight, and she felt her spirits lift at the sight of it. She felt that way more and more every time she saw his face.

Having nothing enchanting to say, she only nodded.

"You've been out here since sunrise," he said, stepping in to meet her. "It's nearly supper. Have the grapes put a spell on you?"

He gave a boyish smile and plucked a grape next to her head, popping it in his mouth. He gave a small grunt in satisfaction.

"I think they're sweeter than usual this year," he commented, plucking another one.

"I wanted to do as much pruning as I could," Catriona explained, "considering how short-staffed you are these days."

"I never asked you to carry an extra load," he replied, his voice dropping a bit in seriousness.

"I did it only because I wanted to."

He eyed her for a moment, chewing slowly. While swallowing, he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Then I thank you for your generosity," he said. "It's not often I meet people willing to work for nothing."

"If you're suggesting I get a raise, I'll happily take the offer."

Griffin laughed, leaning his arm against the grape lattice and looking up at the sky.

"Is the moon out?" he asked. "How can you be talking back to me in broad daylight, Catriona?"

Catriona swallowed, her name on his lips a thrilling sensation. It was equal to the look he was giving her now, his eyes a mix of playful curiosity and interest.

He suddenly glanced at his shoes.

"I heard you've been receiving many gifts these days," he said.

Catriona's heart seized. Did Griffin know about Patrick's secret training?

"W-what gifts?" she asked.

"The gossip mill told me that you received quite a few bolts of fabric from a generous donor."

Catriona exhaled in relief.

"Donated by a patron interested in supporting a local seamstress," he continued. "At least, that's how Mrs. Greene described it."

She swallowed. "Patrick heard I was interested in sewing and sent over some fabrics. Are you angry?"

He laughed, but it seemed more bitter than amused.

"I just had no idea that you were interested in those sorts of things," he said.

"It never seemed like an appropriate conversation topic."

"And yet Patrick knows."

There was an uneasy silence as Griffin looked at her, seeming to search her eyes for an answer. She couldn't tell whether or not he was annoyed with her interest in sewing, but if she was completely honest, in her determination to become a fine businesswoman she had forgotten about the fabrics completely.

"Mrs. Greene has a background in tailoring," he finally said. "She could help you with shaping those fabrics into something presentable, perhaps."

Catriona perked up at his words. "Really? You wouldn't mind it?"

He chuckled. "Of course not. Maybe you can make more of these lively headscarves I keep seeing you in these days."

He reached up to playfully tug at the bow on her head, but the scarf wasn't securely fastened, and it fell from her head with ease. She internally gasped as her hair loosened and fell to her shoulders, baring her new haircut to him.

His eyes shifted from playful to confused. The moment of silence between them felt like hours.

"You changed your hair," he commented.

His tone was neutral, making Catriona wonder if he found it attractive.

"Longer hair is quite heavy in the summer," Catriona said.

It was not the true reason she had cut it, but it was at least a fact.

"Yes," he replied. "I suppose that it would be."
He analyzed her hair for a moment.

"The style is quite modern," he said. "Did Rose help you with it?"

Her heart panged at the sound of Rose's name, a reminder that there was another woman that came to Griffin's mind first when it came to concepts of modern and attractive.

"Or..." Griffin continued. "Was this another gift of the great patron?"

She swallowed, finally nodding to answer him. He sighed again - just as he had with the two lazy workers - and looked over his shoulder to indicate that he was no longer interested in their conversation. Her heart sank, knowing she had lost his attention yet again.

Griffin licked his lips, looking down at his shoes once more.

"I'm finding out more and more these days what you're interested in, it seems," he said.

The way he said it made her fear that she had disappointed him again. He straightened his back, coming to his full height, his eyes completely losing the playfulness he had arrived with.

"I hope one of those interests is pot roast," he said lifelessly. "If so, you should stop working and come to dinner."

He put his hands in his pockets and walked past her, indicating that it was an invitation for her to go off on her own, instead of an invitation to walk beside him.