of your mouth before you swallow it.” His voice had taken on a sinfully deep tone and she swore it was reverberating through his hand and up her arm. “Try it.”
She took a sip and so did he. She watched his mouth, and didn’t swallow until he did.
“What do you think?”
She was at a loss for words, and that almost never happened.
“Peppery, just a hint of oak,” he said. “Full-bodied.”
“Yes. You took the words right out of my mouth.”
He smiled at her. “Can you still taste it?”
She thought about that for a second or two, and nodded.
“That’s one of the best characteristics of this particular wine. It has a long, warm finish.”
Holy crap. She should ask about his car, or his brother or what kind of business he was in. Instead she took another slow, careful sip of wine, imagined she was being kissed, and contemplated everything implied by a long, warm finish.
Chapter Two
Michael Morgan followed his real estate agent out of the shabby building she’d just shown him in the South of Market district and waited on the sidewalk while she locked the door. The large windows overlooking the street had been boarded up with plywood, and that had been covered with several coats of paint in an unsuccessful attempt to keep graffiti under control. Even the big for-sale sign had been tagged so many times, it was almost unreadable. It was the third place he’d seen and the least disastrous, which wasn’t saying much.
“It definitely needs work,” the agent said. “I do think it has potential, though. Nice high ceilings and all that exposed brick. And there’s already lots of new development nearby.” She had helped him find the two previous locations for his new wine bars—the first at Fisherman’s Wharf and the second on Nob Hill—and she now had a good sense of what he wanted.
This place was a dump, but she was right, it had potential. A trendy-looking deli and coffee shop had recently opened across the street, a new residential building next door boasted upscale loft condos and there was more new construction on the next block. On the downside, this place required a major renovation and he had no idea how much of the building’s character and existing structure could be salvaged, or how much capital he’d have to sink into it.
“It is a good location,” he said. “Let me talk to my sister and find out when she can check it out. She’s the architect who’ll be handling this project.”
“Of course. If it makes life easier for you, have her call me directly and we’ll set up a time.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.” Michael unlocked his car, got in and checked his cell phone for messages. Nothing that couldn’t wait. He pulled up his sister’s private number and studied the building’s facade while he waited for her to answer. The windows and front entrance were set in brick arches. The second-story windows were tall, almost floor-to-ceiling on the inside. He could picture them with ironwork Juliet balconies on the outside, and maybe some planters.
“Hey, big brother. What’s up?”
“Hi, Lexi. I’ve just toured a possible location for the new wine bar in SoMa. Any chance you can take a look sometime this week?”
“I’ll be happy to.”
He gave her the real estate agent’s number and said he’d leave it to her to set up an appointment. “I guess I’ll see you at home tomorrow.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. What time will you be there?”
“I’m driving up first thing in the morning. I have a meeting with Ginny at the winery, then I thought I’d hang out with Ben for the rest of the day. What about you?”
“I plan to catch up on some work here and leave around lunchtime, but I’ll take a look at this place before I go. The party’s not till six, right?”
“That’s right, but I think Mom would like you to be there a little before she serves dinner.”
“Gee, you think?” Lexi laughed. “Oh, hang on a sec.”
He waited and listened to her give a series of quick instructions to an assistant.
“Okay, I’m back. I’ve already told Mom I’ll be there before dinner, and she talked me into staying the night. I also told her that if she wants us to drop everything and spend the whole day up there, then she shouldn’t throw a party in the middle of the week.”
He was willing to concede that Lexi made a good point, even though he didn’t agree with her and neither would their mother. As far as Sophia Morgan was concerned, nothing was as important as family, and he felt the same way. As much as he had wanted to build on his father’s business—and so far his success had exceeded even his expectations—he had done it as much for his family as for himself.
He divided his time between his family’s home in Napa Valley and his apartment in San Francisco, which meant he was back and forth fairly often. His sister Ginny and her husband lived in the valley at one of the family’s vineyards. Lexi was the only one who’d chosen a career outside the family business and made a permanent move to the city. She was a shrewd businesswoman, even a little hard-nosed at times, and was also the only one of his siblings who was periodically at odds with their mother. The fireworks had started the day she hit puberty, escalated through her teen years and finally settled into an accepting but arm’s-length relationship around the time she left for college.
“Has our mother ever thrown a party that wasn’t on the actual day of someone’s birthday?” he asked.
“No, but it’s not like Ben would know.”
“Ah, but she would,” he reminded her.
“Yeah, I know, and I’ll be there. I will. Just not for the whole day.”
“Okay, okay. No guilt trips from me. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
He tossed the information packet from the Realtor into the glove compartment, took out a pair of sunglasses and flipped open his appointment book. This had been his last scheduled meeting for the day. Now he’d satisfy his curiosity about a little bar called the Whiskey Sour and the high-spirited redhead who ran the place. He’d thought a lot about both since he’d met her at Rory and Mitch’s wedding on Saturday evening, and he was looking forward to seeing her again. This time on her turf.
He was more interested in her bar than he was in her, though. She had implied that her business wasn’t doing all that well, so there was a very good chance she’d consider selling. And if she hadn’t considered it, well, he could be persuasive.
Still, she was an intriguing woman in her own right. That amazing cascade of red hair would make any man a little crazy, and those piercing green eyes could cut through any pretense. He didn’t often meet a beautiful woman who didn’t use her looks to her advantage, and that’s what had intrigued him most. She had introduced herself simply as Jess, but it had been easy enough to find out that her name was Jessica Bennett. She was the owner and sole proprietor of the Whiskey Sour, and according to the telephone directory she rented an apartment about six blocks away. Which might sound a bit stalkerish, but he’d learned the hard way to check out people, especially women, before letting them into his life.
Not that Jess had given any indication she wanted in. She hadn’t come across as a gold digger, but then neither had most of the others. Jess seemed down-to-earth and completely unpretentious, and she had made her thoughts on wine tasting abundantly clear. She thought it was pompous. Then there’d been the quip about him being one of Jonathan’s criminal cases. Somewhat to his surprise, he had found it refreshing, and it still made him smile. She might have been more restrained if she’d known who he was, but there was also a good chance she wouldn’t.
The sun had finally put in an appearance, and before he drove away he put on the sunglasses and