“The only person brave enough to tell me the truth. Her eyes bulged as she said, “Jen.”
Everything in her stood still. How dare she—this woman who wasn’t even family, who was barely a fiancée, had the audacity to tell her daughter something so deeply personal.
“It wasn’t her place,” Bianca said, anger rising in her chest.
“No,” Mila snapped, her voice breaking. “It was your place. Or my dad’s. And neither of you said a damn word.” She was crying hard now, her chest heaving as if she might have an anxiety attack.
“Come here, baby.” Bianca stretched out her arms.
“I can’t be with you right now.” Mila stormed out of the room.
“Mila,” Bianca called her as she forced herself out of bed and hurried to the door.
Just outside, Zoe stood frozen against the wall, arms folded against her chest, her shoulders heaving up and down, tears streaming down her face.
Bianca stopped short. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Zoe didn’t speak. She just looked at Bianca with eyes full of contempt. She turned and walked swiftly down the hallway, then slammed her bedroom door shut.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Remi
She’d taken Paloma’s advice and hired Pinnacle Strategies, a marketing team that was small but sharp. One that understood her vision and would help shape the story behind the brand. She’d also hired a software company to implement a full wine management system, one that would streamline everything from inventory tracking to tasting notes, shipments, and wine memberships.
Next on her list was hiring the right staff, people who believed inJoie. She planned to start small, with the objective of building a tight-knit team. A few of Paloma’s relatives, who had worked at the Ortiz winery before it closed, had already expressed interest. They were familiar with the land, and they respected the kind of place Remi was building. She would interview them first.
Joie’s business side was finally taking shape, and she couldn’t be prouder. What began as a dream at the beginning of the summer was evolving—quickly—into something real, structured and promising. The foundation was becoming solid. Licenses were in place. Distribution discussions had moved beyond preliminary talks, and a few boutique shopsin the Bay Area were already on board. The branding, which was Mila’s hand-sketched design of a grapevine curling into the shape of a heart, had been adopted. And what was more, it was gaining attention for its elegance.
Remi spent the morning with her newly hired marketing team, shaping the campaign that would introduceJoieto the world. By noon they had begun laying the foundation for a strong social media presence and strategizing distribution. Piece by piece the vision was taking form.Joiewas becoming a brand.
Remi stood at the head of the wooden table in the winery’s converted office. The office space still held the smell of fresh paint, still was unfinished. She hadn’t gotten around to decorating, at least not yet. Aside from the table, nothing else had arrived. A few furniture pieces were on back order, and she was still browsing for artwork that captured the spirit of Napa and the soul ofJoie.
But today wasn’t about all that.
Tablet in hand, she glanced up at the mounted screen behind her. TheJoielogo illuminated there. The afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows. When her phone rang, she silenced it. Seeing it was Zoe calling, she made a mental note to call her back when she got a free moment.
“So, the story is just as important as the wine,” Remi said, scanning the faces seated around the table. “We’re not just selling a product, we’re offering people a sense of place, of renewal. Of joy, really.”
The room was still for a moment before Camille, the lead strategist, a sharp woman, nodded. “That’s exactly the angle we want to lead with. Authenticity. Storytelling. Napa has a lot of wineries, but few are owned by women of color with real histories of perseverance and personal transformation.”
Remi nodded, grateful that someone else could see the heartbeat ofJoie.
“Distribution,” Camille’s colleague Marcus chimed in. “We’re in touch with regional outlets and boutique shops in the Bay Area. They want small-batch, narrative-driven wines.Joiefits that.”
“What about events?” Remi asked.
“We suggest soft-opening weekend tastings. By invitation only,” Camille said. “Media, influencers, local sommeliers. And then slowly expand. Word of mouth will be key.”
Remi leaned back in her chair, processing it all. The winery she’d dreamed of in the quiet of grief and uncertainty was materializing before her eyes. And though the journey had been hard-won, she felt something she hadn’t in a long time—deeply rooted pride.
“Let’s move forward,” she said, her voice firm but warm. “I want the first bottles out by end of summer, early fall. And I want a big event, a wine tasting with all the influencers there, to introduceJoieto the world.”
Applause followed. It was happening and fast.
Paloma gave her a wink, followed by a light, warm smile.
Her phone buzzed again with a text message from Zoe:Mom, I need to talk to you right away!