Having the Frenchman's Baby

After she left, Rachel kissed his cheek. “It’s good to see you. How’s Titan?”

“Doing better. How was your visit with Jacques Bulot?”

She took a quick extra breath. “We ended up doing business over the phone.”

His black eyes snapped in irritation. “How come?”

She’d prepared herself for that question.

“I got so worried about Grandfather, I decided to cut my trip short. But it’s all right. I placed a big order for champagne. When I told him about Grandfather, he completely understood and sent his personal regards.”

He pursed his lips. “Father’s on his last legs.”

It was one thing to think it, but another to hear it expressed so baldly.

“I hope and pray not.” She reached in her bag for his gifts.

“These are for you.”

She put his favorite whiskey and a bottle of the grand cru label Pinot Gris on the table.

“Oh, and this—” She felt deeper for the box of cigars he liked.

“You’re a regular Mary Poppins.” With that remark a little of his humor had returned. If she could just keep him that way.

He went straight for the Tokay and uncorked it. “This is what kept you in Alsace?” he demanded.

If her father only knew… But he was one person she’d never been able to confide in. He didn’t care enough about anyone else’s problems to show more than a surface concern. He wasn’t like her grandfather.

“Try it and you’ll understand why.”

There was a clean wineglass handy. He reached for it and poured himself a generous amount.

Without bothering to savour it, he drank it in several swallows the way he did his whiskey.

The aftertaste was part of what made it so wonderful. She waited for him to say something.

“What’s that flavor?”

“Which one?”

He eyed her for a minute. “You’re the expert. You’re supposed to tell me.”

No. There was only one expert. The mere thought of him brought raw, stabbing pain.

“I’m going to let you think about it for a while.” She reached for her tote bag and started walking toward the entrance to the restaurant.

“Rachel?”

“Yes, Dad?” she called over her shoulder.

“Whatever it is, it’s damn good.”

“I’m glad you approve since I’ve ordered sixty cases for starters. And that’s only their Tokay. Wait till you taste their Riesling!”

“How much is this costing us?”

“A lot, but I can guarantee Chartier white wines are going to bring in repeat customers until we have to turn them away in droves. This trip I found out French bread isn’t France’s greatest contribution to the world after all. Alsace is.”