Page 14 of Third Time’s a Charm

As much as I love him, I’d rather not think of Colin that way. And it’s not good for my professional health to be thinking about the ever-icy Jasper that way either. Especially as it seems I’m now going to be spending a week alone with him.

Better bring my thermals. And maybe my vibrator.

Back in my office, I waste no time drawing up an itinerary, making calls, sending emails and organising accommodation. By the end of the day, I have a road trip through New South Wales, northern Victoria and South Australia locked in.

I’ve chosen the wineries and other producers carefully to give Jasper a good cross-section, and to introduce him to the winemakers most enthusiastic about my plans. Since we’ll be away over the weekend, I’ve set it up so we’ll be at one of my favourite wineries in northern Victoria, where we can stay in beautiful cabin accommodation on site. That’ll not only give us the opportunity for a little down time on the Murray River, but also to meet tourists and wine lovers who’ll be staying there, giving Jasper a chance to get a feel for the end customers.

This is by far my favourite part of the job. Getting out into the country. Spending time with the farmers and winemakers. Breathing the fresh air, digging into the lush earth, tasting the new wines. I can’t wait.

I email the itinerary to Jasper, along with a suggestion of clothes he should take. I don’t know what wineries in Europe are like, but the guys here won’t take to a man in a three-piece suit too easily.

There’s a spring in my step as I wander down to the bus stop that evening, messaging Lil about today’s developments as I go.

It hasn’t escaped my notice that Jasper agreed to go on this trip in the face of John’s conviction that the plan is a waste of time, but I don’t care.

If this trip doesn’t convince him my idea has merit, I don’t know what will.

Chapter Eight

Jasper

The scowl on my face must be ferocious as I stomp down the corridor after telling Louise I’ll go on her road trip, because no less than three people scuttle out of my way.

I hadn’t been looking for Louise. And I hadn’t planned on confirming I was going on her road trip when I heard John Mackelden, who should be more mature and professional, taking a dig at Louise and her proposal.

The stammer in her voice, the slight wobble in her tone, slid sharply under my skin, and instinct kicked in. I hate bullies. And if there’s one person who doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment, it’s Louise. She might not be the shy kid I remember, but from what I’ve observed this week, she’s not the confrontational type either.

It’s clear Mackelden will be a road-block—or at least attempt it. But the work I’ve been doing over the past few days suggests there’s a very good chance Louise’s idea could be pivotal in a structured plan to save the company from closure.

The complication—well, one of them—is whether I’ll be able to keep the company afloat with a restructure and refocus, long enough to get Louise’s idea off the ground. It will mean making some brutal decisions. A lot of lay-offs. And a redirection of focus to making money rather than the company-wide cutting of corners that’s been going on.

Whatever happens, Mackelden will have to go. Which would mean I’d have to stay longer than I’d hoped. At least until a viable GM could be put in place. Then I’d be off to Europe, leaving the business in safe hands. Of course, this assumes Tate gives me the latitude I need to get things done. But surely, when he sees the potential, he’ll be convinced.

And it won’t do my reputation any harm either.

It's also occurred to me that by shutting the business down, Louise’s idea will be lost, which would be a damn shame.

Having looked at the figures, and now having met the staff, I have faith I can turn this around. What I don’t have as much faith in is Tate Brown’s integrity or his patience in allowing me the time and authority to do it.

All things considered, it looks like I have no option but to try and convince Tate to let me turn this dumpster fire around. And the first step in doing it is to reassure myself that this plan of Louise’s will work. Which means going on the road trip.

Bonus, it gets me out of Sydney and the memories it evokes.

I conveniently ignore the enormous wine vat in the room. Increased familiarity has not dampened my attraction to Louise. Quite the opposite. And going on this trip means spending time in close proximity—alone—with the object of my attraction.

However, I’m a professional. An adult. An honourable man. Mostly. And I have no desire to put either her career, or mine, at risk. Slightly dishonest ideas about her proposal notwithstanding.

Besides, if I can’t spend a few days keeping my hands, and my eyes, to myself and being professional, I probably need help of the therapeutic variety.

The fact that I can’t remember ever finding a woman quite as fascinating as Louise Baker just has to be ignored.

True to her word, it only took Louise the afternoon to pull together an itinerary. I’m a little shocked we’ll be gone so long, but I’ve committed now so there’s nothing for it but to suck it up and pack.

I smile to myself at her list of ‘suitable clothing’. Seems like she can’t imagine me in anything but a suit. Good. She shouldn’t be imagining me at all. And if she thinks I’m a stitched-up snob, so much the better. That will just make it easier to keep my distance. At least that’s the theory.

We’re due to leave on Wednesday, so I have the weekend to give myself a good talking-to about how important it is to behave. I’ll be alone with her in a car. Sharing breakfasts and dinners. Discussing a shared passion for the winemaking business with this smart, driven, engaging woman. Not to mention beautiful. Lively. Funny.

Over the past few days, I’ve developed a very clear picture of how much damage John Mackelden has done. Whether through a complete lack of imagination, energy, commitment—or all three—he has ruined what not only could have, but should have, been a successful business.