The Beast of Napa

10 - Opportunities

The whiskey didn't help. 

Griffin was on his second glass, half annoyed with himself for drowning in alcohol that wasn't easy to come by, and half apathetic towards drowning himself at all.

His ledgers had been in the red for some time. There was not a lot he could do about the abolition of alcohol, and even though wineries like his were allowed to stay working due to wine's low alcohol content and the needs of the Catholic churches, it was difficult to get anyone to buy a drink when the papers and church-goers had convinced the public that alcohol was the path to Hell. 

Tonight it felt like they were right. 

He put the whiskey back on the shelf, shaking his head at his pathetic attempt to medicate his stress with such a thing. He knew best that a night of drinking your problems away only resulted with the same problems the next morning along with a headache. 

Such a waste.

He looked out his bedroom window, trying to find something in the midnight scenery that would soothe him better. The half-moon, perhaps. The glittering stars. Or maybe the delicate Irish fairy walking from the house to the vineyards. 

She was the midnight fairy, he decided. She was always with the moon and stars.

Does she have insomnia again? he asked himself. How does this woman work all day and stay up all night?

Driven by his desire to get out of his own skin, he left the house to follow her once more to the stock barrels in the vineyards. Of course he knew that she wouldn't try to escape. She had nothing but a selfish sister to return to, and undoubtedly a broken down home in the bad part of the city where all the other immigrants lived. The vineyards were the best place for her; a place to grow her skills and make a fresh start.

Griffin knew all there was to know about new starts. 

He approached Catriona slowly, taking in the way she looked up at the moon in wishful thoughts. He was the same as her ages ago, when he believed the stars could hear him. But it had been years since he spoke to them. 

She jumped with a gasp when she noticed him. He tried to hold down a smile at her reaction. 

"You shouldn't hide in the shadows, Mr. Griffin," she said, "or else I'll start believing the things people say about you."

He hopped up onto the barrels, unable to contain his pride. "You wouldn't start believing them now. What's wrong? You couldn't sleep again?"

She nodded. "And you? You seemed rather upset this afternoon."

His chest got heavy. He had forgotten for a moment that his business was in turmoil and that his black sheep of a cousin still hadn't revealed his true intentions for his visit. Patrick had wasted no time, however, getting familiar with Catriona; and Griffin was still unsettled about the game of Bridge that Patrick, Catriona, and a few staff members had played after lunch.

He didn't know what Patrick was planning, and he bothered him. 

"Is your business alright?" Catriona asked. 

He gave a half smile. "Don't worry. If we go under, your debt will be canceled."

"That's not what I asked."

He chuckled darkly, muttering to himself. "Definitely more cheeky at night."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

He turned to her, lost for a moment in the depths of her eyes. They were usually a rich brown in the daytime, but at night under the stars they were pure and deep, like the ocean at midnight. It made his fingertips itch. He wanted to hate the feeling.