The Decanter World Wine Awards
"So... you're saying a few of California's representative wineries are going to produce wines to commemorate the 30th anniversary of the Judgment of Paris, and the California state government is going to promote them? That sounds like a great opportunity for a winery, doesn't it?"
"It’s more than just a 'great opportunity.' This entire batch is destined for export. The goal is to broadcast America's victory to wine enthusiasts worldwide."
Do wine enthusiasts really not know that America beat France? Everyone knows. Yet, they are making this because they want to brand this victory and keep it as a trophy to boast about for years to come.
However, while I could understand the California state government's intentions, I couldn't grasp why Mark was trying to drag me into such a "great opportunity."
Before my regression, even among PhDs and researchers, it was standard practice to compete fiercely for government research grants. In the wine industry, where competition is even more cutthroat, would they really hand out such a golden opportunity so readily? I wasn't that naive.
"I see. It does sound like a good opportunity. Are there any specific procedures or conditions required to participate?"
Mark smiled slyly and tapped the bar table with his index finger.
"A place like Redwood Winery meets the minimum requirements set by the state government. Plus, if you go through the certification process with the associations in Napa and Sonoma, you'll be granted the opportunity to join this event."
"Association certification, you say...?"
"The Napa Valley Vintners (NVV) and the Sonoma County Vintners."
"Ah..."
Listening closely, it was clear he was saying, "I'm doing you a favor by letting you in." After all, association certification meant that a few powerful wineries had to give their blessing.
"So, we just make the wine and supply it, right?"
"Exactly. Nothing difficult about it."
It still felt off, so I asked one more time.
"And the association won't touch anything until the wine is shipped?"
"Ah, there are a few verification procedures for that part. Since it's a wine supported by the California state government, there's a process to ensure there are no issues with the production. Other than that, nothing."
"Verification procedures?"
As I pressed for details, Mark's brow furrowed slightly.
"We need to verify that the wine was made through the proper processes."
I raised my hand immediately.
"Ah, I appreciate the consideration, but I don't think we can do it."
"You're going to give up such a great opportunity?"
"It is a great opportunity, but if we do that, there's a risk of our winemaking know-how being exposed. Still, thank you for letting me know about this."
I kept saying "thank you," but his awkwardly stiff expression didn't soften. But what could he do if I didn't want to?
"What can I do if you turn down such an opportunity? Can't be helped."
"Then I'll head back to the party. This place is... truly enviable. When I buy a house later, I should try to build a space like this for myself. Thank you for the tour."
I gave a slight bow to him, his eyes filled with an unreadable expression, and headed upstairs.
"Kyaaaa!"
"Hahahaha!"
Upstairs, a spectacle was unfolding. Armando was running around, mingling with women in bikinis who were throwing foam from the pool at each other.
"Hmm..."
Honestly, I was a bit envious. But then,
"Isn't that your friend over there?"
I turned my head to see a very familiar face standing there. It was Matthew Higgins, who was very close with Sienna.
"Oh? Long time no see."
The last time I had seen him was a fleeting moment after graduation. He looked like the quintessential wealthy white elite, and the polo shirt he was wearing suited him perfectly.
"Why didn't you submit to the San Francisco Chronicle this time?"
"My distributor suggested we try a different competition, so I didn't bother submitting."
"You could have done both, couldn't you?"
"Why? Were you hoping to compete against me this time?"
At my question, Matthew twisted one corner of his lip upward.
"Honestly, I did have that in mind. But since you didn't submit this time, it almost looked like you were running away. I even wondered if the quality of the wine you released last year wasn't up to par."
In truth, it wouldn't have mattered if I submitted to both, but the reason I sat out the San Francisco Chronicle this time was simple: I didn't want to attract negative attention within Napa Valley for no reason.
I knew from before my regression that Americans harbor more intense racial prejudice than they show on the surface. Winning two Double Golds at once was already enough to bruise their egos; if I were to win Double Gold or higher again, they would surely be grinding their teeth in private, even if they couldn't show it on the outside.
If the scale of my wine production had been massive—say, 30,000 to 40,000 cases—I wouldn't have cared about such animosity and would have submitted anyway. But whether I participated or not, a sell-out was guaranteed. There was no reason to seek publicity for this year's vintage.
That was why Christopher's suggestion to participate in an international competition instead of the San Francisco Chronicle had sounded so appealing.
"Oh, 'not up to par'? Quite the contrary, it's even better than the year before last."
That wasn't a boast; it was a fact. It was a wine crafted to near-perfection by precisely measuring and controlling temperature and oxygen levels in stainless steel aging tanks.
Matthew shrugged, looking as if he didn't believe me.
"It's an incomprehensible decision, but if that's what you say, I have nothing more to add. I suppose we won't be seeing any official reviews for your wine this year."
He was implying that reviews from wine enthusiasts were unofficial and not worth discussing... I wondered if he only heard what he wanted to hear, or if what I said just hadn't registered.
"I told you earlier, didn't I? I said we were going to participate in a different competition. I did submit, just not to the San Francisco Chronicle."
"Oh, did you? Then where...?"
"The DWWA (Decanter World Wine Awards)."
Matthew's eyes narrowed immediately.
"Ah... that event with the short history?"
Just as I was debating how to respond, Matthew turned his gaze away from me and said,
"Happy birthday."
I turned to see Sienna in a bikini, approaching while drying her hair with a towel. And right behind her, Armando was following like a puppy, grinning foolishly.
"Thanks. You're late."
"I was preparing a gift."
Matthew raised his hand with a flourish. At his fingertips hung a paper bag, not very large, but bearing the luxury Hermès logo. Before my regression, I might have sneered at a young kid flaunting luxury goods, but considering the wealth of the Matthew family, this was likely just a small token between college students.
"Thank you."
As expected, Sienna didn't even ask what it was; she took the bag and dropped it casually among the other gifts from friends. Matthew, as if he had expected her to act that way, didn't seem to mind and continued.
"My father is sending me on a wine tour to France this time. Would you like to come? We have meetings scheduled with the owners of the Premier Cru Classé wineries in the Médoc region of Bordeaux. You could learn a lot, and it never hurts to get acquainted early, right? What do you think?"
It was a comment that made me worry for Armando. But Sienna, looking as if she wasn't particularly interested, replied with a blank expression.
"Well, I'm not really... let me know how it goes when you get back."
"It would be a great opportunity, you know? If you're worried about your father, you don't have to be. My father already said he spoke to yours."
For the first time, I felt Armando's expression stiffen slightly.
"I've been on a similar tour before... and I'm already acquainted with the owners of Lafite Rothschild and Margaux among the five chateaus..."
When she refused again, Matthew's face hardened. It seemed he had made the offer right in front of us to show off, and he clearly hadn't expected her to reject him so openly.
"...... Suit yourself."
Matthew brushed past her shoulder and began smiling and chatting with the female students who recognized him. It was a true "alpha male" move, as if he were deliberately showing that there were plenty of women besides her.
But Sienna didn't even look at him; she asked me,
"What did my dad say?"
"Oh? Well, he suggested we work together on the wine support project the California state government is running."
"And?"
"I refused."
Her eyes flickered for a moment, but she soon nodded.
"I see. Well, I thought you would."
"Can I ask you one thing?"
"What?"
"Why did he try to recommend me for this project?"
I expected her not to answer. I was just curious about what she was thinking. But she opened up more easily than I expected.
"We have a bit of a history with the Grendel Hill farm. He probably wanted to send those grapes abroad instead of keeping them domestic."
It was an incredibly honest story. And it was unexpected that there was another reason behind it, rather than just coveting my winemaking methods.
"I see. Can't be helped, then."
"My point exactly. Want some wine?"
Sienna asked nonchalantly, and Armando cut in.
"I'd love some."
She skillfully opened a new bottle, pulled out a new glass, poured the wine, and handed it to Armando. I watched them and asked,
"Wasn't that a secret? Your father might be upset if he heard you told me."
"I know. You aren't going to snitch on me, are you?"
"That's not it, but..."
"Then it's fine."
She stared straight into my eyes and continued.
"I hate things that are childish. I also hate people who do things with such transparent motives. Do you know why I rejected Matthew's offer?"
"Because his motives were transparent?"
"Yeah. If he had just confessed that he liked me, I might have considered it seriously. But he couldn't say that and just kept spouting nonsense."
Damn it... I finally realized why Sienna put up with Armando. Armando's brainless, straightforward approach was actually her preference.
Watching Armando grinning foolishly beside her, I felt a strange surge of anger, even though I didn't have even 0.1% of feelings for Sienna. It was clearly just that his smug, grinning mouth was annoying.
"So that's why you told me everything, so you wouldn't be childish?"
"My dad taught me a lot. About wine, and about life... but sometimes, his actions are different from what he teaches. I love my dad, but I just... I think our styles are different."
"But your father is the winery owner right now. Aren't you worried that your behavior might harm the winery?"
Surprisingly, Sienna chuckled, put her hands on her hips, and said,
"It's his right now, but in ten years, it'll be mine. So if I do what I want, what's the harm in that?"
"Wow..."
I was genuinely impressed by her boldness and clapped my hands. Clap. Clap. Clap.
"That's impressive. I give you credit."
"On the flip side, I acknowledge your skill, too. But I'm constantly studying. I don't think you'll be ahead forever. I even started additional research last year with a million-dollar investment... that's why I can reject Matthew's offer. Everyone says Napa Valley is the best vineyard, but Sonoma isn't far behind. I'll catch up soon."
At her bold declaration, I instinctively looked at Armando. Armando, who dreamed of a peaceful life with a beautiful wife—could he handle a woman as ambitious as Sienna?
But Armando seemed to have fallen for that ambitious side of her; his eyes turned into hearts, and he muttered like a loyal servant,
"You'll be able to do it. I can tell just by looking at you. You'll probably be able to beat Brian, too!"
That bastard—he even sounded sincere about that last part.