Sotto Voce by Erin Finnegan

Author:Erin Finnegan [Finnegan, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Interlude Press
Published: 2014-10-21T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Carmen tested the limits—and the suspension—of her BMW, tossing it in and out of the rolling stretch of the Sonoma Highway toward Interstate 80. Greg did his best not to show his nerves, but clung to the passenger door armrest more than once.

“Everything okay over there?” he asked.

“I’m just trying to get to I-80 before traffic hits,” she said, deep in concentration that Greg hoped was focused on the road ahead.

“We’ve got plenty of time to get to Davis. The meeting doesn’t start ’til ten.”

Brooke had scheduled a mandatory walk-through of the Taste Challenge for all finalists, publicists, organizers and others involved in the event. The only participants who would not be on hand were the judges, who were sequestered at a hotel in Sacramento and met with event planners separately.

The Mondavi Center was, on paper, an easy drive from either Napa or Sonoma. Hit the road at just the right moment and the distance could be covered in under an hour. But the commuter traffic crisscrossing the valley between Sacramento and San Francisco had been known, on occasion, to double that drive time. Carmen and Greg decided to leave early and grab a cup of coffee if the fates and traffic reports allowed.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you how you held up the other night,” Greg asked, hoping conversation might cause Carmen to ease up on the gas.

“I can hold my liquor, Greg.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Did you talk?”

“I talk all the time. It’s nothing but talk, talk, talk.”

“So I’ll take that as a no.”

“You would be correct, sir.” Carmen gave him a little mock salute, and then returned her hand to the wheel. “I didn’t see much purpose in it, and apparently, neither did she.”

“Don’t you think this would be a good time to put this behind you? To move on?”

“Oh, I moved on a long time ago. I’m moving just fine.”

She downshifted, and hit the gas.

Greg looked at her. He felt a little exasperated, and more than a little sympathetic. He knew Carmen well enough to know that she took life’s knocks harder than she let on. The fact of the matter was, there were chips in her Teflon façade; and sometimes, the hurt stuck.

“Carmen, is it worth it, really? Wouldn’t it be better if the two of you just settled things?”

Carmen stared straight ahead in silence for a beat, shifted back in to fifth gear, then reached over and cranked up the stereo.

•

They found a small crowd already congregating outside the stone and glass Studio Theatre of the Mondavi Center for the Performing Arts. Much of the Sonoma contingent was already there, along with several of the Napa winemakers and their teams.

As the other participants filed into the theater, Greg felt a tap on his shoulder. To his left stood Tom, in a trim tailored suit that looked like something he would have worn during the early days of his wine country assignment.

His voice had a conspiratorial tone. “How’s she holding up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Greg said.

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