Whispers in the Vineyard Ch. 01

Wine, a beautiful woman and a firefighter... What more do you want? Maybe some romance? Check. A strong woman? (I know I have some readers that will appreciate that 😉) Check. Sex, you say? Check! I think you'll love Gregg and Ellie as much as I've come to love them. Emails welcome! Thanks for reading!

Whispers in the Vineyard Ch 01

The rumbling red ladder truck ground to a halt in front of my old Florida cottage. Two guys in the front and two on the back and all waved but one.

He jumped off the truck and strode across the lawn wearing a sharp white sports shirt with the county fire logo and navy pants.

I had a foot on the porch swing, the other hanging down, my toe just touching the floor to keep it moving. I pared off a slice of the apple I had been eating and offered it to him.

The corners of his eyes crinkled when he flashed a smile, his teeth looking impossibly white because of his darkly tanned face.

"How'd y'know that's why I stopped?" Gregg said.

"You and the gang," I laughed, glancing out at the truck still rumbling at idle, waiting like a bird ready to swoop off when needed.

"What're you up to today since you're closed?" he asked, munching on the apple he had somehow spirited out of my hand.

"I have a few new recipes I want to test." I scowled. "After I get to the butcher," I added as an afterthought because I just noticed the morning was slipping away from me.

"Do you need a taste tester?" He leaned on the porch railing, chin on his hands.

"Are you stepping on my flowers?" I scolded but was unable to hold back a grin.

Suddenly the squawk box went off on the rig and he was sprinting across the yard. The truck started to move as soon as he jumped on.

Twenty years ago, I would have killed for a hunk like that. But I'm pushing mid-forties and he's... Well, he's young. I don't know how old he is, but he's way too young for me. Or I'm too old for him. Either way. Too young is too young.

I carelessly ran my fingers through my fluff of wild auburn curls, grabbed my purse and keys from the table inside the door, and was out the door to the butcher.

When people think of Florida, they consider Tampa, Miami, and the Florida Keys, but there is so much more. I live in a town of around eight thousand in the middle of the state, equidistant to the big cities as well as the smaller Naples, West Palm, and Sarasota.

They come to our quaint little town, spend their money in our antique stores, boutiques, and restaurants, then leave. They don't live here and drive up our home prices. The seasonal crowd dodge the northern snow cold and greyness, spend their money, and are gone again in the spring.

Several years back, to the shock of the locals, I opened Ellie's Place, a bistro. Not a pizza joint, not a breakfast place, or a café, but a higher-end restaurant. I'm the cook. Besides the front of the house, I have some kitchen prep help and one other that is good enough to do what I tell him to do and do it very well.

There are ten tables. I only have what I can cook for. Reservations are a must, and we are usually booked two months out. Cancellations are the only way to sneak in earlier.

Gregg was at a seating one evening with his sister. That was how I met him. His sister had heard about my place and booked a reservation two months ago from Charlotte, where she lives.

The locals often complain that they can't get in, but summer is much easier to eat anywhere really. Once the part-time residents are gone back north, things quiet down considerably. Most businesses don't like it, but I don't mind. I like the slowdown. I like seeing the locals again. Small town stuff. My kinda stuff.

"Thanks, Frank," I said picking up the already packed bag at the butcher. "How's it going?"

"Busy! But I'm not complaining." I nodded, understanding.

After running a food cost check I began prepping the ingredients. Unlike many higher-end restaurants, I liked to give my customers food on their plates instead of a dab of this and that. I do not want anyone leaving hungry.

Time got away from me, and it was late evening by the time I got my kitchen cleaned up and began the grocery list for the week.

I showered, put my vintage caftan on, and was preparing to watch some television when I heard a tap on my door.

It was a small town and although I always look, I'm not alarmed. Besides, it was only around seven.

"I hoped you'd be done and ready for some of this," Gregg said, grinning and holding out a bottle of wine. "I figured I would be late for the food, but I didn't want to interrupt your analysis. Research. Assessment."

I laughed at him. "I just might have some leftovers if you're not offended by scraps."

"Woof woof!"

"You're crazy," I laughed.

Gregg opened the wine while I fixed a plate.

I am five foot five inches my clothes told me my hips and waist were small but my thirty-nine C bust required a large top. As a teen, I wanted a breast reduction, but my parents told me to wait. If I wanted to have it done when I was older, I could. I did wait and found once I was out of school it wasn't a big deal. They sometimes got in the way, but otherwise, I never thought about them.

"This is pretty damn awesome," he mumbled, still eating.

"Southern Greens Fried Rice," I smiled.

He went to the next pile on his plate and mumbled some indistinct words as he shoveled it in. I laughed and poured more wine.

"You're a helluva cook, Ellie. I always knew, but this just verified why you're so successful." He wiped his mouth and took a sip of wine. "And you've done it all on your own."

I picked up his plate, rinsed it in the sink, and stashed it in the dishwasher.

"Let's sit outside. It's not going to be comfortable enough to do that for much longer." Spring for Florida meant warm to hot but low humidity. Unlike the sweltering summer that was sure to come.

The night air was pleasant, and the scent of my jasmine filled the air. I curled my feet up underneath me on the front porch swing and he set the pace.

"I did and I didn't do it on my own. My ex-husband is very wealthy. I found out he was seeing someone else, and I moved out. He offered because he would have legally had to pay me a monthly sum, to instead give me a large settlement. One and done as he said." I took a drink of my wine. "I opted to do that and used that for my startup here."

"Well yes of course then you did it on your own. With the talent you have for food, you would have flourished anyhow. Maybe just take you longer, but no less your hard work. "And," he took my hand, "I'm sorry your husband did that to you. No one deserves that."

"Thanks. It was a painful time of my life, but I've put it all behind me. And now I'm so busy I can't even think of what happened yesterday," I laughed.

"And happy?" he asked.

"Happy? Yes, I am. Very." I waved my hand. "I have everything I want. A roof over my head, a nice town, great friends, the best weather," I laughed.

"So, you're not dating anyone?"

I shook my head. "No. Mostly no time, but I am happy the way I am. Not sure I could fit anyone into my life now."

He nodded and looked thoughtful. "But if I'm here when you do consider someone, I'll be first in line, right?" He smiled.

I laughed. "I'm too old for you, Gregg."

"What?!" he guffawed loudly. "No fucking way! Whatever made you think that?" He was still laughing loudly. "Just forget that right now, Ellie. Age is nothing. If we have an attraction and we're both agreeable, why not?"

I drained the last of my wine and took my time placing it on the table. Which served to give me time to think.

"We're different generations."

"So?"

"I'll wilt and you'll still be charging along."

"I highly doubt that," he laughed. "Now you're stretching." He took my hand again. "How about just giving me a chance. If we decide it's not working, then we back off. Will that work for you?"

He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. "I supposed. But I don't' have much free time and we'll have to go slow." He nodded.

He kissed my hand, stood up, and was gone, leaving me with my head swirling.

That week I added the new dishes and hoped everyone loved Southern Greens Fried Rice as much as Gregg did. He was on my mind way too much and knew I was inching closer to the rabbit hole. I had to get a grip.

I was only open from four to ten for the dinner hour. Lunch was always requested but it would be tough since I was the head cook. Besides, I was happy with the way it was. It gave me time every day to get fresh meat, produce, and dairy from my local suppliers. My menu varied from week to week and my diners often requested the menu for the following weeks so they could get their reservations in.

My little place ran like a well-oiled machine. I paid my staff well and often asked for their input since they were the vibe of the front of the house. I stocked a good selection of wine but depended on the diners knowing what they wanted.

"Every table wanted to make reservations before they left this evening," Janeen said. She took care of reservations, seated the diners, and followed up to ensure they had what they needed. She was the glue that held the front together.

"Phew," I said, perching my ass on a stool and rubbing my legs. "I don't know what I'd do without you girl. I can do what I need to do back here."

"Other than when I want you to come to meet the guests," she laughed. I cringed. "I know you like to stay in the background, but everyone wants to know who does the magic."

"I know I know. You're right. I need to make an appearance more often."

"Maybe we can come up with something that you can be out front but continue to cook. Several places I've been to in Sarasota have a chef's table. I'll follow up on that if you like?"

"Yeah, please do. We do need to come up with something. Stay current. Blah blah."

She laughed. "Get home and rest. You're beat."

Just at that moment, Gregg came through the back door. "I figured I'd still find you here," he smiled and winked at Janeen.

"I was just telling her to get lost!"

"How about I take you home? I'll make sure your car gets back to the house."

I was so beat, that sounded too good to be true and I just nodded my appreciation.

"Sit down, put your legs up, let me spoil you," he ordered. Too tired to argue, I did, and he handed me a glass of wine.

"You have a real knack for choosing wine. Or maybe you're not just lucky at it?"

I wasn't sure if he heard me over the banging and crashing of pots and pans, refrigerator opening, closing, and opening again. Wonderful smells began to drift out of my kitchen. I never ate at my restaurant, usually waiting until I got home and eating leftovers.

Soon the coffee table was filled with small plates and I discovered another side to Gregg. He was a damn fine cook.

"You've been holding out on me," I mumbled between bites.

He grinned. "I wanted to take advantage of a time I could pamper you. I might have an ulterior motive," he said, suddenly getting serious.

He mentioned the name of a local family and told me their house burnt to the ground, leaving them nothing. The firemen were trying to come up with a fundraiser and he thought I might have an idea.

"Yes, of course. Simple. I will have a night that all proceeds will go towards the family. I'll have it on a night I'm normally closed because I'll need a simpler menu that I can cook for a crowd." I smiled. "I'm not sure about that."

"What if I help you? Maybe get the firemen to serve, or whatever they can do?"

"Perfect! Let's plan on doing that!"

We talked about various ideas for food and getting the word out. He would enlist the help of his coworkers on that and ask them if they would get involved at the restaurant.

Not realizing we were up talking so late it was two-thirty and I needed to get some sleep. Gregg left with a long hug, that felt good. Real good.

The next day Gregg called and asked if after close he could bring a few of his firefighter friends that wanted to help. I also told my staff what I was doing and that they weren't obligated to volunteer since it would be their normal day off. It brought me real joy that they all committed to helping. Small town community. That's why I love it here.

I was amazed at how many of the volunteer's wanted coffee after we closed. I had prepared sandwiches and dessert.

On seeing the poster in the restaurant, many of our guests said they'd be there. They also suggested since we didn't have much seating, to plan on carry out for those that wanted to help out. We had a smoker donated for the day, several of the firefighters volunteered to make chili, and the local bakery stepped up for bread and cookies. It was overwhelming.

"Who would've guessed," Gregg said later after everyone had left. The rest had done all the clean-up, so we could relax. "How about I drive you home. It's late... Errr," looking at his watch, "early now."

"Thanks, but I'm good. I'm awake. More pumped up with adrenaline I suppose," I laughed. "So many great ideas. I've already started a list before I forget them all."

"I'll donate wine for the diners that night."

"Wow, that'd be fantastic Gregg," I smiled. "Would you like to order wholesale from my supplier?"

"Nah, I have an in with a winery. I'll call in some favors."

"Ah, that's why you always choose the best wine. You're a bacchanalian!" I grinned and he laughed uproariously.

"No, but I'm told they have a lot of fun!" We both laughed. "Actually, my family owns a winery. I grew up with it and learned a bit along the way."

"Really? Here in Florida?" He nodded. "I've only seen a couple locally but they're small."

"It's further up north. Near Gainesville," he said.

"So, you grew up running through the vineyards? Nice!"

"Maybe someday you'd like to go up with me?" he asked.

"Yes! Absolutely!"

The next days were putting plans into action. Gregg and I worked out a menu along with the perfect wine pairing. We also planned a less expensive carry-out menu. That along with the firemen's chili would cover all the folks.

We had an early morning start with the chili bubbling in huge pots. We had a prixe fixe menu for on-premises dining and I arranged that most could be prepared ahead. The quicker easier things could be put together by a few volunteers that wanted to help in the kitchen.

It was a long arduous day but the funds for the family were amazing. They stopped by to tearfully thank everyone. It yet again reminded me why I love small-town life.

"I guess I can take you home since I picked you up this morning," Gregg grinned.

"I think you had that in mind all along!" I laughed.

"Moi?!"

"You couldn't pull off innocent if you tried," I said, elbowing him.

He opened the car door and chuckled.

"You're a feisty one considering how hard you worked today."

"I'm not even tired. Guess I'm still pumped up on adrenaline." I thought for a moment. "And you know what, I didn't eat anything today." I laughed at the thought of that.

"Are you kidding me, Ellie? Is this a ploy to get me to cook for you again?"

"Oh my. I never thought about that, but it does sound like a great idea now that you mention it!" He laughed and I giggled.

While he was gathering things in the kitchen I ran up and took a shower. I was glad I did because I looked a mess and smelled like kitchen.

He looked over his shoulder when I came into the kitchen. "Geez, what kind of a hostess are you not inviting your guest to shower to." He flashed a big naughty grin.

"I'll be sure to remember that next time," I said, smiling at the surprise on his face at my comeback. Flirting was a new thing.

I'll admit that he was growing on me. Although he was younger, there wasn't a time that I could think of that it made a difference. We talked movies, books, history, just anything really, and seemed to relate the same.

No doubt I was attracted to him. He's in great shape, with dark hair, tanned, handsome. What was not to like right. But did he feel the same? A small town with not a lot of single women, of any age. And some of the younger ones move to a bigger city as soon as they can.

"Okay now m'lady, have a seat at the table and I will serve you," he said, draping a kitchen towel over his arm. I giggled.

Dishes of wonderful food began appearing on the table and I did feel as though I was in a restaurant.

"I'd hire you if you weren't already employed," I grinned. "Where did you learn to cook like this?" I breathed in the perfectly spiced beef that steamed from a dish in front of me.

"I worked in the restaurant in the winery all through high school and college. We had some great chefs that I learned from." He sat down, took my plate, and began filling it.

"Ahhhh, so you've been holding out on me!"

He looked sheepish. "Sort of I guess. I can't compare to what you do though. You are the master chef."

"Well thank you. But I do think it would be fun to cook together sometimes?" I said, realizing that I was bringing a future to our relationship up.

"I'd really love that, Ellie," he smiled. "I'm going to look forward to it too."

Again, we talked and drank wine until way too early in the morning. Our hug goodbye was longer and more confusingly, both comforting and arousing at the same time. My ex-husband was mostly all business, even in the bedroom, so this feeling was new to me.

I tossed and turned before I fell asleep.

I came into work and was greeted by two dozen roses waiting for me. The firemen had sent them thanking me for the use of my kitchen for their chili. The roses, red of course, were quite touching to me.

"You're the talk of the town," Janeen said smiling. I sat across from her and started sliding the weeks' menus into their sleeves.

"There were so many people that made it happen though." We made some small talk for a bit, then I asked, "How important is the wine we offer?"

She was thoughtful for a moment. "I think with a good number of our diners, matching the wine with the meal is part of their experience. Others aren't interested and happy with sweet tea," she laughed.

"Gregg's family owns a winery in northern Florida, and he is quite knowledgeable about wine pairings. I was thinking to ask him to pair several wines with our weekly meals. Maybe a moderate-priced one and a more expensive."

"I think that'd be a great idea! I suspect that will be very well received." We began to fold the napkins with the utensils. "You're seeing quite a bit of Gregg, hmm?" she smiled.

"Yeah, well we have been working together on the fundraiser," I said, seeing her Oh yeah right, look. I laughed. "I guess we have been seeing each other a lot." I hesitated. "I have to say I like him. A lot. But at the same time, I'm worried about our age difference."

"What?!" she exclaimed. "How much could it be... What... Not even ten years?"

"I'm not sure really. Trying not to think about it that much."

"Well, I say, go for it!" she said. "Don't let love pass you by."

"Love! Now you're rushing things," I laughed and got up to start prep in the kitchen.

I had a lot of time to think while I prepared the night's vegetables. Could she be right... Am I in love? I can't deny how much I look forward to seeing him. Spending time with him. We have so much in common. Pretty much the same interests. The big question is, do I want to grow old with him.

When Gregg wasn't at the fire station, he made a habit to stop in every night at close. We started putting leftovers together on the grill. We worked well side by side. And it was fun.

"I have a proposition for you," I said.

He waggled his eyebrows. "Oh yeahhhh?"