Read Online A Taste of Sauvignon by Heather Heyford - Free Book Online Page B

mind with regard to negotiations,” Esteban told his father.
    â€œWhat do you mean, an open mind? Didn’t you give her my counteroffer?”
    â€œThat was only this afternoon. Give her time to present it.”
    Padre grunted. “Tell her to take all the time she needs. No one is loco enough to pay that much money.”
    â€œWhat did he say?” asked Savvy.
    â€œHe said he’ll think about it,” replied Esteban.
    Savvy smiled.
    â€œWell!” said Madre. “If everyone is finished . . .” She rose to whisk away the empty pot. Esteban and Savvy carried their own plates to the sink, where he picked up the small jar Savvy had brought.
    â€œLavender honey, from France,” said Savvy.
    Esteban opened the lid, touched the honey’s surface with a finger and licked it off. “What kind of lavender?” He studied the foreign print on the label.
    â€œI don’t know. Jeanne sent away to Provence for it.”
    â€œThat Jeanne . . . so thoughtful. Give her my thanks,” said Madre. “Esteban, did you tell Savvy about your lavender?”
    â€œSí.”
    Â¡Mierda! When he was nervous, he slipped into Spanish. He hated being tagged as an immigrant . . . hated worse the fact that he hated it. Once he had kids of his own, they’d be rid of that stigma—born Americans. But the fact that he was bilingual wasn’t news. He’d been acting as an interpreter—if a dishonest one—for the past hour.
    â€œHas she seen your experiments?”
    â€œMadre. I doubt she’s interested in—”
    â€œWhat experiments?” asked Savvy.
    â€œGo out and show her the greenhouse,” said Madre, dismissing them with a wave. “Go on. I’ll take care of these few dishes.”
    Savvy tilted her head and smiled. “I’ve always had a thing for greenhouses. So many interesting scents.”
    He was such a sucker. She’d probably never been in a greenhouse in her life. But Madre had been prompting him to be more outgoing since he was a shy little kid. She knew if there was anything he could open up about, it was lavender.
    â€œLet’s go,” he said, leading the way.

Chapter 10
    F or the first time in days, no clouds smudged the evening sky, only a sliver of new moon glowing in the dusk.
    Savvy fairly skipped along in the cool evening air, trying to keep up with Esteban’s long strides. She wanted to kiss Mrs. Morales, first for the chance to finally meet her husband and now to be alone with her son.
    A dense wall of humidity hit her the moment she stepped inside the glass-paned building. She inhaled in stages, the thick, fragrant air heavy in her lungs.
    â€œI love the smell of healthy, growing things. My friends thought I was weird, but I used to hang out in the greenhouse at college sometimes. Even took an Intro to Botany course for one of my electives, junior year.” She winced at her lame attempt at small talk. What did Esteban care about her college courses? The whole time she’d had her nose buried in Evolution and Speciation, he’d been planted right here, studying this slip of land by the feel of the soil in his fingers, learning about the seasons by watching the sky.
    But he wasn’t unreceptive. “What’s it smell like to you?”
    â€œA million things, all at once . . .” She belly-breathed, trying to break down the complex aroma into its individual components. “Like the color green. Do smells have color, to you? You know. Sharp . . . metallic . . .”
    â€œThat’s the magnesium in the chlorophyll.”
    He picked up a pair of garden clippers with curved blades lying on a shelf.
    A long trough of gray-green plants with narrow, toothed leaves ran down the center of the greenhouse. They seemed to be color-coded by their blossoms, ranging from pink through lilac and violet blue to deep purple.
    Esteban snipped off a sprig of dusky blue violet and held it under