Nerves shot through my body, and my core tensed up at the sudden thought that my best friend and my archnemesis might be hooking up behind my back. Why else would she argue with me about him of all people?

“Are you two …” I couldn’t even finish the question without wanting to throw up at the betrayal.

“What? No! Like I would ever do that to you!” she exclaimed.

I felt my entire body relax. “Right. You wouldn’t date my enemy because you know I’d have to fire you and never speak to you again.”

She finally started doing her job, filling up the empty glasses with our latest wine before placing them in perfect display alignment on the table. “No, Julia. I’d never go after James because, no matter what you try to tell yourself—or me—I know that you have feelings for him. I’d never do that to you.”

My face flamed, my cheeks heating with either righteous anger or embarrassment on being so blatantly called out—I wasn’t sure which. Jeanine knew that despite my family’s disapproval, I was attracted to James and had been since he hit puberty sometime during junior high school. I’d only allowed myself to admit it out loud to her one time, but that one time had apparently been all she needed since she liked to throw it in my face every now and then.

“I don’t,” I stuttered, “have feelings for that jerk.”

“Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes at me, a glass of wine in one hand as she handed me a half-filled glass with the other.

We each swirled the liquid twice before raising it to our noses and sipping slowly. The moan that escaped my lips was uncontrollable. It was good, really good, like going to win first place again good. At least, I hoped it would. Nothing was guaranteed in this business.

“This is amazing. How do you do it?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Science,” I said with a smile because it was half-true.

Making wine was a delicate science, but it was also instinct and the willingness to think outside the box and try new things. The majority of local wineries stuck to the old-fashioned, tried-and-true wine blends that practically guaranteed success. Very few had the capacity to risk attempting new flavor combinations without the fear of losing it all or at least taking a huge hit to their profit margin. I understood their concerns, especially when their entire livelihood depended on their wines not only being drinkable, but also profitable.