They wind down several long cool hallways to an office of sorts. The walls are covered in awards and Nate realizes he actually recognizes the name of the vintner, Shadowfox. He’s had a bottle or two at parties in the past. There’s a skinny stick of a man sitting with his feet propped up on the desk and he takes one look at Nate and says, “Ooh la la la, Brad, this is a higher class hooker than you usually pay for.”
Nate stares at him and then turns back to look at Brad who seems annoyed rather than embarrassed. “Shut up, Ray,” he says. “The phone is next to my retarded associate, please help yourself.”
He stalks out of the room and Ray follows after, attempting to apologize, but clearly only annoying Brad further. Nate eavesdrops on their argument for a moment longer before picking the phone up out of its cradle. He calls a towing company first. They promise him forty-five minutes to an hour. Nate looks at his watch, he’ll probably be late.
He calls Amanda next. “I’m going to be late,” he tells her as soon as she picks up.
She sighs, sounding beleaguered. “Of course you are, first no date, second not on time, third you’ve started voting republican again.”
He laughs. “I assure you it stops at being late.”
“Where are you?”
“Not too far. My car broke down and this guy is letting me use his phone.”
“Christ, Nate, how late are you going to be?”
He spends several more minutes appeasing her and telling her everything is going to be fine. Finally she relents and hangs up on him. Nate doesn’t take it personally. This whole wedding thing has been making everybody nuts. He walks out of the room, following the sound of voices.
He finds Brad and Ray in a living room in the back, overlooking the rear of the property. One wall is entirely glass and the rows of carefully tamed vines seem to go on for ever. Ray is telling some story about rabies and pole dancers in Reno and Nate can tell that Brad is mostly not listening. They both turn when he enters the room.
“Thanks for letting me use your phone,” Nate says, finding it hard not to stare at Brad who is backlit by the window and seeming to glow with it. “I’ll uh…get out of your hair.”
“You’re welcome to wait here,” Brad replies evenly. Ray snorts and Brad turns to him, “Get out, Ray.”
Ray raises his hands in supplication, but rolls to his feet and leaves. He winks at Nate as he goes. Nate raises his eyebrows at Brad. “Ignore him,” Brad replies and walks over to a sideboard. “Can I help you to a glass?” He holds up a bottle of Campo Viejo Rioja.
“Not your own wine?” Nate asks.
Brad laughs. “If I only drank my own wine, I’d miss a whole lot.”
He pours Nate a glass and hands it to him. Nate looks down at his watch. Only 4:43 PM. He supposes he’s in wine country. He thinks about sitting down on one of the long leather couches, but it somehow feels appropriate standing here next to Brad. Brad clinks their glasses together and takes a sip, his eyes never leaving Nate’s. Nate takes a bigger swallow than he meant to and winds up tonguing the excess off his lower lip. Brad’s eyes darken and drop to his mouth.
“I uh…don’t suppose there’s anywhere you have to be tonight?” Nate asks, knowing he’s completely lost his mind.
Brad takes another sip, his throat working, and then sets the glass down on a low coffee table.
Winery, Part 2
Nate stares at him and then turns back to look at Brad who seems annoyed rather than embarrassed. “Shut up, Ray,” he says. “The phone is next to my retarded associate, please help yourself.”
He stalks out of the room and Ray follows after, attempting to apologize, but clearly only annoying Brad further. Nate eavesdrops on their argument for a moment longer before picking the phone up out of its cradle. He calls a towing company first. They promise him forty-five minutes to an hour. Nate looks at his watch, he’ll probably be late.
He calls Amanda next. “I’m going to be late,” he tells her as soon as she picks up.
She sighs, sounding beleaguered. “Of course you are, first no date, second not on time, third you’ve started voting republican again.”
He laughs. “I assure you it stops at being late.”
“Where are you?”
“Not too far. My car broke down and this guy is letting me use his phone.”
“Christ, Nate, how late are you going to be?”
He spends several more minutes appeasing her and telling her everything is going to be fine. Finally she relents and hangs up on him. Nate doesn’t take it personally. This whole wedding thing has been making everybody nuts. He walks out of the room, following the sound of voices.
He finds Brad and Ray in a living room in the back, overlooking the rear of the property. One wall is entirely glass and the rows of carefully tamed vines seem to go on for ever. Ray is telling some story about rabies and pole dancers in Reno and Nate can tell that Brad is mostly not listening. They both turn when he enters the room.
“Thanks for letting me use your phone,” Nate says, finding it hard not to stare at Brad who is backlit by the window and seeming to glow with it. “I’ll uh…get out of your hair.”
“You’re welcome to wait here,” Brad replies evenly. Ray snorts and Brad turns to him, “Get out, Ray.”
Ray raises his hands in supplication, but rolls to his feet and leaves. He winks at Nate as he goes. Nate raises his eyebrows at Brad. “Ignore him,” Brad replies and walks over to a sideboard. “Can I help you to a glass?” He holds up a bottle of Campo Viejo Rioja.
“Not your own wine?” Nate asks.
Brad laughs. “If I only drank my own wine, I’d miss a whole lot.”
He pours Nate a glass and hands it to him. Nate looks down at his watch. Only 4:43 PM. He supposes he’s in wine country. He thinks about sitting down on one of the long leather couches, but it somehow feels appropriate standing here next to Brad. Brad clinks their glasses together and takes a sip, his eyes never leaving Nate’s. Nate takes a bigger swallow than he meant to and winds up tonguing the excess off his lower lip. Brad’s eyes darken and drop to his mouth.
“I uh…don’t suppose there’s anywhere you have to be tonight?” Nate asks, knowing he’s completely lost his mind.
Brad takes another sip, his throat working, and then sets the glass down on a low coffee table.
“No, I don’t suppose there is.”