“I already discovered that.”
“You’ve been snooping.”
“Snooping in what is also my house is sort of impossible. You did say that it was my house, too, now. Even when I said that it was still your house…” She lowered her voice, mimicking him. “ ‘No, Nik, my house is going to be your house. Our house. You know the saying, mi casa es su casa.’” She winked at him, imitating him. “Ring a bell?” She couldn’t believe how comfortable their relationship had become. Joking with him like this less than even a year ago wouldn’t have happened.
He laughed. “Do I sound like that?”
“Exactly.”
He put the Band-Aid on her thumb and opened the wine, handing her a glass. “Now would you like to get back to the interrogation? By the way, what are you making for dinner? It smells delicious. Garlic, onions, hmmm. Girl, with you around, something tells me I won’t starve.”
“Ah, a little something, something, like portabella mushroom drizzled with a balsamic sauce, a classic Caesar, and braised pork loin with pearl onions and grapes.” She smiled proudly, leaning back against the counter.
“A little something, something, huh? Yeah. I think I can get used to having you here. Go ahead and call it your house, too. I think I do remember that mi casa es su casa part.”
“Good. So, do you also recall telling Simon that I would help him and Marco out with this event their guru wants to have here? Or should I assume what I have been all day and know that Simon was trying to undermine me?”
He sighed and set his wine down. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I did do that. Simon wasn’t trying to work you.”
“Well, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Come on; let’s go sit down in the family room. I don’t want you chopping off your hand, much less my head, in case you get mad at me.”
“Are you thinking I might?”
“You might.” He smiled sheepishly and grabbed their wineglasses, taking them into the ranch-style family room, replete with leather sofas, a cow hide rug, and wooden floors. “Look, sweetie. First, here’s to you. To us. Our house. La casa.”
Please. Oh yeah, he so knew he was busted. He never called her sweetie. Neither of them was into mushy name-calling. She sat down on the couch and smiled back at him. “Okay, sweetie. Here’s to us.”
“To us.” He clinked his glass with hers. “I see you got some more things moved in today. I told you to wait until the weekend and we can get it all in here.”
“No you don’t. I’m not falling for that. Don’t try to change the subject. Lay it on me. What did you tell your brother dear?”
He sighed and set his glass down on the coffee table. “Okay, I did tell him that you would help.”
“What? Do you realize how many orders are going out right now? Plus, I have three major restaurants breathing down my neck because they’re all sold out of the Cab, and with our change in distributor last month, things are screwed up. Oh, and that charity event I promised to take care of. You know, the one you said would be good for Malveaux to be a part of? Now I’m going to have to play cruise director for a group of lost souls! Lovely. People who have enough money to buy their bliss at seminars that teach them how to breathe and chant.”
He held up a hand. “Wait. I think you need to breathe. Hear me out. I know this is short notice, and trust me, I wasn’t exactly keen on it either, but then I got a call from Alan’s people.”
“Alan?”
“Yes. Believe it or not, the Guru Sansibaba is really named Alan Sansi.”
She closed her eyes. “Why do I have this sick feeling in my stomach that I’m not going to like this at all?”
“Here’s the deal. You know how much I sank into building the spa and hotel?”
“Yes.” Nikki did know exactly what Derek had put into it, and how he’d also absorbed the cost of the gourmet restaurant on the vineyard after the famous chef, Georges Debussey, who’d partnered with Derek, met an early demise. It hadn’t been a cheap endeavor when Derek committed to building a world-class spa and boutique hotel on the vineyard. On top of all the promotion in glossy magazines, he’d shelled out a pretty penny to make everything top notch.
“The company is not recouping the costs as quickly as I’d like. We’ll be fine, but I can’t take money from the winery and funnel it into that end of the business right now because of the major promotion with the Hahndorfs in Australia and the Salvatores in Italy.”
Derek had also taken on international enterprise by importing wines into the United States and giving them the Malveaux label.
“Okay, what are you saying?” Nikki asked.
“This Alan Sansi is becoming pretty big, what with law of attraction being so popular these days along with holistic medicines and aromatherapy.” He sighed. “Alan gave me a call after talking to Simon and he explained why he needed a retreat in such a hurry.”
“Yeah, next week.” She crossed her legs and leaned back into the couch.
“I know, I know you’re busy. I’m going to get you some backup. In return for holding the event here, Alan mentioned that he would be interested in licensing his name on our spa products. Right now he has one of the major cosmetic companies after him to do this, but he claims that big commercial business doesn’t interest him.”
“What does he think we are?”
“I know, but you know that we’re totally organic and green here, and he likes that about us. He’s willing to put money into the spa and into the products. It might not be a bad idea if I’m going to continue to grow the place. He’s also interested in promoting our wines because they’re organic. You know red wine is good for the heart.”
“So is less stress-something I need. And I thought you didn’t want huge crowds at the spa and hotel. I thought they were supposed to be a rare luxury. A treat. Now you’re talking about promoting to the masses?”
“Nikki, I’m a businessman, and yes, the spa and hotel will stay a top-of-the-line luxury. They have to. As you said, we can’t accommodate a lot of tourists here. I have no intention of expanding. Twenty-five rooms are what we have, and we can only treat a handful of guests at a time at the spa. But everything we do here is costly, and to maintain that kind of expense, I need cash flow. The spa products with Alan Sansi’s name on them could do that for us. Besides, we actually don’t have any rooms booked that week because it’s our downtime. We could use this.”
She took a sip of her wine, and setting it back down, she rubbed her sore thumb, seeing his point. She didn’t want the hotel and spa to tank. They meant a lot to him, and her as well. “What about the wine? You say this guy is interested in promoting it, too. What are you thinking? How would you go about that?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve got Simon and Marco working up a campaign now for me to present to him. But I think this guy is going to go big like Dr. Weil or Wayne Dyer. Before long we’ll probably see him on Oprah. It could be a nice boost for us. I’ve been going over our demo-graphics and we have expensive wines that are selling well, but our ten- to twenty-dollar wines aren’t. We’ve spent a lot of money advertising to luxury and wealth and now we need to look at a mass advertisement scale. You know, the mom who goes to yoga in the morning. The family man who likes to barbeque on the weekend for his wife and kids. Couples who get together and talk about the day-to-day stuff over a glass of wine and dinner.”
“You mean normal people.” She laughed, because she was normal. Okay, a little crazy normal-but normal as in driving an economy car, buying most of her clothes at Target, clipping coupons, and becoming anxious when the checking account dipped below five hundred dollars. She’d had enough bounced check charges during her acting days that keeping money in the bank meant she’d go without a meal or two if need be. That was why Derek’s wealthy world was so different and, yes, exciting. Thankfully, he wasn’t a pompous egomaniac.