Scott didn’t answer right away; he was looking off toward the snow-covered hills. After a moment, he sighed. “That’s fair. Let’s go take a look, then we can discuss it further.”
Nelson thought that now would be a good time to have Gordon around. After all, they weren’t soldiers. Regardless of this fact, the responsibility fell on him. Tomorrow he’d set out to see exactly what they were up against.
Pablo examined the bottle of wine, holding it at an angle.
“I hear the Alexander Valley is superior to the Napa varietal,” he commented, then filled two long-stemmed glasses full of the cabernet.
“I don’t know anything about wine,” Isabelle said, taking the glass by the stem. Her hand shook slightly. She was nervous and didn’t want to make one wrong move. She knew by his invitation that he was attracted to her. She was repulsed by the idea of having an overtly romantic dinner with him, but what other option did she have? If she refused his wishes, what happened then? Would he kill her and her father? At the moment, this was just a dinner. If he tried to make it into something more physical, she didn’t know if she could stop her urge to lash out at him. But until that happened, she bit her lip and smiled.
“Oh, you should learn. Wine is truly God’s gift to mankind,” he said with a smile as he picked up his glass and swirled the wine. He admired how the wine changed colors from a dark burgundy to an earthy red when he held it up to the light. He set the glass down on the table and inspected the wine’s legs. “Impressive,” he said again. “You Americans have really come a long way in the wine-making process.”
“Why am I here?” she asked.
“I’ll put this bluntly: You intrigued me. I’ve seen a lot in my life. I’m not an old man but I’ve lived enough to fill several lives.”
“That’s it. I’m something for you to look at. I’m a novelty?”
“Yes and no. You intrigued me because of the way you expressed yourself. You’re a smart and beautiful woman. I won’t lie to you; I’m attracted to you, but beyond the conventional sense of attraction. I felt a connection with you yesterday when you talked to me. There’s a common saying I remember from university: You ‘got’ me.”
She looked at the knife in front of her, then looked at Pablo. A strong desire came to take the knife and stab him. Only the knowledge that her father was being treated by his men caused her to control that urge.
“What are your plans for us?”
“Let’s talk about something else. Do you have any brothers and sisters?” he asked as he relaxed into a tall fabric dining chair.
She didn’t want to be here, especially answering questions from a madman, but she couldn’t see any other option at the moment.
“No brothers or sisters. You?”
“I’m like you, the only child. I have found that being the only child has some real positives and negatives. I wanted a sibling so badly when I was growing up. I didn’t have what you would say was a normal upbringing. I didn’t go to normal schools. I didn’t have many playmates. That was a big negative for me,” he said, smiling sadly.
“I felt the same way. Not having someone to play with was difficult. I did have some friends, though.”
“I found solace in my books and studies. Education was very, very important to my father,” he said, taking a large gulp of wine.
“Are your parents still alive?” she asked.
He shot her a look that frightened her, then said, “Yes, did someone say otherwise?”
“I’m sorry. No, no one has said anything to me. It was just a question. I ask because my mother died years ago. My dad is all the family I have.”
Pablo regretted snapping at her. “Please accept my apology. That was wrong of me. Both of my parents are alive. They’re both retired and living in Mexico.”
“That’s nice,” she responded. She was now apprehensive about the questions she asked.
Sensing her discomfort, he shifted the topic of conversation. “I hope you like lamb and fingerling potatoes,” he commented.
“Sure,” she said unenthusiastically.
He picked up on her hesitation when he mentioned their meal. “Sure? Wait a minute. Are you a vegetarian? I know that’s very popular here in California.”
“No, the menu sounds wonderful,” she said while looking around the grand dining room.
“I’m sure it must be odd to be sitting here. I didn’t want to just stay anywhere. The governor’s mansion seemed fitting.”
Isabelle had been there a few times for events, so it was even more jarring to be there under the current circumstances.
They shared conversation and even an awkward laugh a few times. If Pablo was one thing, it was charismatic. She tried to get him to talk about what his plans were for his army, but he always found a way to deflect and bring the conversation to a topic that was more palatable.
“Do you like port?” he asked as they had their plates taken away.
“I do, but don’t ask me about anything specific about them,” she answered with a slight smile.
“Let’s go into the parlor. I have a fire going and there we can sit and enjoy a glass of Quinta Do Vesuvio. I find it’s not too sweet for a vintage port,” he said. He enjoyed showcasing his knowledge of the finer things in life.
She smiled and followed him into the parlor. The room was dark, save for the light coming from the roaring fire. Two wingback chairs faced the fireplace. In between them, a small round table stood with two glasses and a bottle atop it.
She was starting to have a difficult time understanding this man who was so savage and primitive in his actions but so refined in his mannerisms and taste. He was dichotomy embodied.
“Here you go, beautiful,” he said as he handed her the small-stemmed glass. He sat down and raised his glass. “A toast to…”
The main double doors that led into the parlor burst open. General Pasqual stormed in like a man on a mission.
“Emperor, please forgive me for this rude interruption!”
Pablo stood up, a look of anger and disdain written on his face. “General, what the hell?”
“Please forgive me, but something urgent needs your attention,” General Pasqual said as he walked over and handed a piece of paper to Pablo.
Pablo snatched the paper from his hand but didn’t even glance at it.
Seeing an opportunity to call it a night, Isabelle stood up and said, “It’s getting late. This is probably a good time to go.”
Pablo turned his attention back to her. “No, do not go,” he pleaded, waving the paper in his hand dismissively.
“Emperor, please read it now,” General Pasqual said in a low, urgent tone.
“I am having an evening with the lady!” he screamed at Pasqual.
“But, sir.”
Pablo tossed the paper on his chair and walked toward Pasqual. “General, leave now. We can deal with this matter later.” Pablo grabbed Pasqual by the arm and roughly escorted him out of the room and closed the door. He locked it and turned around.
With Pablo distracted, Isabelle glanced at the paper. All she could read were the words urgent, sunk, and loss.
“Please pardon my army commander, he doesn’t have manners,” Pablo said and came back.