The Price of Ambition
I had no interest in whether Mark came to the winery or not, so I focused all my attention on the bottling process.
The bottling line had already been thoroughly sanitized. As the stainless steel pipes connected the tanks to the automatic filler, ruby-colored liquid began to flow into the silver conduits. The machine hummed, lining up the bottles and filling them with precisely measured wine at a steady pace.
“Whoa...”
Chloe, watching from the side, gasped. The cherry wine in the transparent 750ml glass bottles shimmered like jewels, and the air inside the winery was thick with a rich, fruity aroma.
For today, I had opted for a polishing filter instead of the 0.65μm filter that would have stripped away bacteria and yeast to a sterile level. My intention was to filter out only the turbidity while preserving as much of the aroma as possible.
“Perfect.”
The bottled wine moved slowly along the conveyor belt. The moment the long 45mm natural cork was slammed into the neck of the bottle, a smile spread across my face before I could stop it. A capsule was placed over it, and the heat sealer shrunk it into a smooth, tight fit.
“Now, the label.”
Armando carefully operated the labeling machine with his white-gloved hands. The red brushstrokes and sophisticated signature on the white linen-textured paper caught the eye.
CERASIA
CHERRY WINE ‧ 2004
Redwood Winery Napa Valley, California
Contains Sulfites
On the back of the label, I had written "Brentwood Harris Farm Cherries," fulfilling the wish Frederick had expressed.
“Cerasia... isn’t it just beautiful? I feel like it would pair perfectly with Greek food. Even the name sounds so romantic.”
“I think so, too.”
Chloe frowned slightly at Armando’s soulless agreement, but she soon returned to gazing lovingly at the finished bottle.
“You know what? 10 tons of these cherries were harvested from the area I managed. So, it’s basically made with my cherries. Isn’t the color just gorgeous?”
“I think so, too.”
“......”
I watched them chatter away, then spoke up.
“We need to have all 8,000 bottles stacked by tomorrow. Since the wine is shaken and stressed immediately after bottling, it usually needs at least two weeks of stabilization in the warehouse, and these have to go out in half a month. We’re out of time.”
At my warning, Armando stuffed a finished bottle into a case as if to ask what I meant.
“See my hands? You probably can’t, right? And I’d like you to acknowledge that the one who’s been chatting away while doing absolutely nothing is Chloe right next to you.”
“Chloe?”
“...If we sell them personally, should I try doing some sales myself?”
“You don’t have to. Just sit there.”
The automatic bottler ran without pause, and I handed over my tasks to the workers, watching for a moment to ensure they didn't make any mistakes. Doing this all by myself would be highly inefficient.
At that moment, Chloe, who had been watching from behind, poked my side and gestured with her head that she wanted to talk. I followed her outside the winery, where she shoved both hands into her pockets and said,
“I heard you’re getting an investment from my dad?”
“Ah... I was planning to expand the facilities, but before I could even bring it up, your father suggested a long-term contract. I had been thinking I needed to secure raw materials stably through a long-term contract with a suitable cherry farm, so it worked out well. But your father mentioned 100 tons?”
“From our perspective, 100 tons isn’t that big of a deal. If he had his way, he probably would’ve wanted to give you 200 tons or more. Our annual harvest is a thousand tons...”
“I know. But I’ve been thinking the facility is too small. I was planning to expand once I made some money, and since your father brought it up, I asked if he could invest by tying it to a 10-year long-term contract.”
That was the truth; I had been thinking about facility expansion for a long time.
Redwood Vineyard, which had been cultivated by the previous owner, John Anderson, and his father before him, was only about 15 acres in size, so the winery was inevitably small. In Korea, 15 acres would be a fairly large farm, but in the U.S., that’s barely a speck of land.
No matter when it happens, to get significant profit from a vineyard, you have to make wine, and it’s obvious that the larger the winery, the greater the profit.
The problem is that expanding winery facilities costs a massive amount of money. Even $700,000 wouldn't be nearly enough.
For example, there’s a record of a Napa Valley farmer in the mid-90s who spent over $25 million just on construction costs to dig an underground cave and build a large-scale facility including a production building.
You might ask why anyone would invest so much money in such a thing, but conversely, it’s a case that shows just how immense the profits from Napa Valley wine are, and why Napa Valley vineyards are on average four times more expensive than other regions.
“So, we’ll be trading with your farm for the next 10 years then?”
“That’s right. Why?”
Chloe suddenly twisted her body, looked around, and blurted out,
“In that case... I was wondering if you could help our farm out a bit more.”
“Hmm?”
“Think about it. If the quality of our farm’s cherries improves and the production volume increases, that’s good for you, too.”
“I acknowledge that if the quality improves, the wine quality goes up, which is good for us. But does the production volume increasing really benefit us?”
It was a question I wouldn’t have asked if the person was Frederick, but since it was Chloe, I threw it out playfully. However, Chloe’s eyes widened, and she raised her voice.
“Of course it does. If production increases, you can lower the supply price.”
“Oh, really? But we’re going to fix the supply price in the contract, right? With a certain percentage increase every year?”
She hadn’t thought of that, so she hesitated for a moment before placing both hands on her waist.
“You can just add it to the contract. If you help increase our farm’s production, you lower the supply price. How about that?”
Honestly, that was a bit tempting. I have to pay $110,000 to buy the 100 tons of cherries we’ll be supplied with every year, which is a large sum of money—well over 100 million won in Korean currency.
However, my mind might change depending on whether she meant lowering the supply price or substituting the supply price itself for the additional production volume. If it was just a matter of lowering the supply price slightly, I obviously had no intention of doing it.
“I think you’ll have to discuss that with your father?”
“Really? So that doesn’t mean it’s absolutely impossible?”
“Well... there’s nothing impossible in this world.”
“Great! Come over to our house later.”
“Sure, I’ll do that.”
If nothing else, I remembered that Chloe’s mother’s cooking was quite good.
After talking with Chloe for a while and spending about two hours checking on the workers, I saw a luxury SUV pull into the farm entrance down below.
“He’s here.”
It was Mark Harrington from the Harrington Farm in Sonoma County. He drove up to the farm at a leisurely pace, wearing stylish sunglasses.
“We saw each other yesterday, right? Good to see you.”
“Welcome.”
I shook hands with him naturally.
“Where is your father?”
“Inside. Let’s go in.”
I guided him inside. Dressed in a white shirt and neatly pressed trousers, he shook hands with my father and sat down at a small table in the office.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again. But... what brings you here today?”
When my father asked, he was about to answer, but when he saw me sitting on the edge of the table behind my father, he pointed at me and said,
“I was under the impression we were going to discuss business between adults.”
Before I could answer, my father stepped in.
“Ah, my son is effectively the person in charge of the winery’s operations. We always discuss things together. So, it’s not strange for him to listen in today. Especially if it’s a business matter.”
“Oh.”
He nodded with a subtle expression. Then, my father added one more thing.
“And it’s a matter of etiquette for Easterners; we don’t wear sunglasses during business meetings. If we can’t see the eyes, we can’t trust the person.”
Startled by that, Mark immediately took off his sunglasses and said,
“I apologize. The sunlight was so strong, I think I forgot I was still wearing them.”
In fact, even in the U.S., it’s often pointed out that wearing sunglasses during a business meeting is rude because you can’t look the other person in the eye. My father mentioning it as an "Eastern" custom was a way to save his face.
Whether he was really wearing them indoors by mistake or trying to hide his eyes to gain an advantage in the negotiation was impossible to tell.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Hmm... actually, the reason I’ve returned to Redwood Winery today is that I have a business proposal I’d like to make.”
“What kind of proposal...?”
“I’ll be blunt. We want to buy this Redwood Winery.”
“Excuse me? You want to buy this place?”
“Yes. Oh, I don’t mean we want to buy all the rights completely. We want to buy half of the shares in Redwood Winery. And we are offering $5 million as an investment. In addition, if the farm has any loans, we will take on half of that debt.”
At the 2004 exchange rate, $5 million was over 5 billion won. For most people, $5 million is an amount they wouldn’t touch even if they saved their whole lives, and even here in the U.S., that was a significant amount of money.
“I repeat, it’s for half the shares. You receive $5 million in a lump sum, wipe out half of the farm’s debt, and you can take half of the farm’s annual profits. For the rest of your life.”
For an immigrant, it was an incredibly sweet offer that would make anyone’s heart flutter the moment they heard it. Of course, Redwood was not included in that "anyone."
My father had already talked it over with me, and because of the excitement he’d felt at the tasting event, he hadn’t even imagined selling the winery’s shares. So, he smiled with great composure and waved his hand.
“I’m sorry, but we have no intention of doing that. None at all.”
“As far as I know, it’s only been a year since you acquired it, and farming is by no means easy. As you saw with the wildfire this time, you have to take on significant risks. The same goes for wine. You know that wine prices per gallon have been on a downward trend for three years, right? There’s no telling how far they’ll fall. But we can endure those risks with our massive capital and achieve long-term growth...”
“No. We’re not interested.”
At my father’s firm answer, Mark straightened his back.
“I know you have confidence in your wine, but the facilities here are small and have limits to growth. It will take at least 10 years to earn enough little by little to expand the facilities and get proper funds in your hands. We are simply accelerating those 10 years for you.”
“...”
“Don’t forget that wine prices have been falling for three years. Cherry wine might give you cash right away, but Pinot Noir has to be left with a custom crush facility for at least a year and a half. It’ll probably be about two years, and after paying that rent, how much money will you actually have in your hands?”
That sounded quite threatening. I could feel my father’s shoulders shake slightly, perhaps because the estimated rent for over 20,000 liters of Pinot Noir for two years was over $300,000. So, I interjected lightly.
“Is that so? I don’t think that’s the case.”
Mark’s brow furrowed. He was annoyed that a kid who didn’t know anything was interjecting while adults were talking business. But as I continued, his face, which had been merely furrowed, gradually hardened.
“You know the movie Sideways was released a month ago, right? It’s a movie about wine, and I heard that because of it, Pinot Noir sales have already started to rise little by little. If that’s the case, it seems the price per gallon will rise soon, too...”
“Uh, uh? That’s just... a moment of curiosity...”
I shrugged at him as he panicked, caught off guard by the unexpected topic.
“Let’s see. Whether it’s just a slight rise due to a moment of curiosity, or... whether it will rise enough to affect the market.”
“......”
“I’m curious, too. How much will the price of Pinot Noir, which had been falling, be...? It wouldn’t just skyrocket or anything, would it? Hahaha!”
“......”