The Beast of Napa

8 - Darkness

"Tell me more about her," Patrick said.

    Griffin poured another glass of wine as they sat on the back porch, the sun setting over the vineyards in a dazzling display of quartz and topaz. Rose had offered to teach the chefs some French dishes from her time in Paris, leaving the gentlemen to their own pre-dinner drinks and uncomfortable conversation.

Uncomfortable for Griffin, anyways.

     "Who?" Griffin asked, already hating the answer.

    "The young lady you hired for the fields. Come on now, Nathaniel. You can't tell me this is only a business venture."

    Griffin straightened in his chair. "That's all it is. That's all it's going to be."

    "Why do you like wasting opportunities?" Patrick asked with a pitiful sigh. "Come on. Even the best workaholics want to... play hard in the evenings."

    Griffin turned up his lip. "So crass."

    "That's not the word I'd use for myself."

    "I have a few other words that rhyme with it, if you'd prefer."

    "Ahh, you're always acting so holier-than-thou. Don't act like you're so much the wiser because a woman broke your heart. A wiser man would enjoy a woman without putting his heart in it at all."

    Griffin's teeth clenched, annoyed at Patrick's casual attitude towards things that clearly belonged in the past. Patrick, however, only put his hand on his knee as he looked in the distance. He gave a devilish smirk as Catriona walked from the house to the vineyard. Griffin sipped from his glass, his eyes narrowed.

"How's your ex-wife?" Griffin asked.

"Which one? Speaking of wives, Rose told me about her proposal. You're not going to say yes?"

Griffin sipped more of his wine.

"It would make your business soar, wouldn't it?" Patrick continued. "It's never a bad idea to have a cushy set up in case your own work goes south."

"Alcohol is illegal and you think owning a whiskey business would be useful. It shows how well you pay attention to markets."

Patrick raised his glass. "I don't need markets. I have networks."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Griffin took another long sip, letting the flavors meld together. They seemed sharp this evening. "Are you in trouble again?"

Patrick laughed airily. "Of course not! Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Because the last time you were here, your last ex-wife had bled you dry. The time before that, it was because you couldn't pay for your wedding. The time before that..."

"Oh, those are all mere coincidences. Everything worked out in the end."

"Yes, because --"

Griffin didn't finish his sentence.

"Because of your father's generosity," Patrick finished. "I would have found another way, mind you, but I always appreciated his compassion."

Griffin slammed the wine glass on the table, cracking the neck. "He's not here anymore. If you wanted to see him, you should have made your way to New York."

Patrick paused, taking a sip from his glass and setting it down on the table next to Griffin's. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

"I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers," Patrick said apologetically. "I was simply expressing my gratitude towards my uncle. Am I not allowed to do so?"