Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My stomach rumbles, the perfect invitation to stop inside my new favorite boulangerie on the Place du Marché where I’ve taken to eating baguette slices with butter and jam. Nothing has ever tasted as good, especially sitting outside at their little wrought iron tables while inhaling the scent of grape leaves in the air from all the vineyards surrounding the town.
I get my food along with a strong cup of coffee and settle into a table that allows me to see the bell tower of the Saint-Émilion Monolithic Church. I toured it our first full day here when we let Sylvie be our guide. It’s an architectural wonder, partially carved from a single block of limestone for which the region is known. We climbed to the top of the bell tower and my breath was robbed upon taking in the panoramic view of the region. From high above, the vineyards were segregated into asymmetrical blocks of different varieties of grapes, creating a patchwork quilt of color.
Keeping one eye on my watch, since it’s a good twenty-minute walk to the château, I let my attention follow the people milling around. Many are tourists but some are locals, and it’s not hard to tell the difference.
I’m slathering orange marmalade onto another baguette slice when a shadow falls over my table. I look up to see Gabe standing there, casual in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. He settles into the chair opposite me and without asking takes the baguette from my hand. “I’m starving. I haven’t had a chance to eat breakfast.”
“Hey,” I exclaim, only slightly irritated, and it fizzles just as quickly when he winks at me before taking a bite. “What are you doing here?”
“It was too nice a morning to keep working, so I canceled a meeting and decided to come find you. Figured we could talk business while we walk around and look at cool old stuff.”
I finish the last bit of my coffee, loving the bitter bite after the sweetness of the marmalade. He notes the skeptical look on my face.
“What?” he inquires. “I know how to have fun.”
This is laughable as Gabe has done nothing but work, other than that first day we hung out with Sylvie. Granted, I’ve worked too, focusing on administrative stuff I could handle with the convenience of a good Wi-Fi connection at the château, but Gabe is hard-core devoted. He reminds me so much of Ethan, managing an empire and making it look easy, even though we all know it’s not.
“If you say so,” I mutter.
Gabe pops the last piece of bread into his mouth and brushes off his hands. He chews, swallows, and then rises from the chair. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”
We meander through the town and back down a winding lane toward the château, which sits right in the middle of vine plots. The winery grows mainly two types of grapes, making their signature blend from merlot and cabernet franc varieties. I learned during our tour of the winery—which included a tasting—that the merlot grape lends flavors of plum and black cherry to the wine, and the cabernet franc offers a spicy bouquet that hints at tobacco and raspberry.
I tried my hardest to taste those things within the rich, red wine, but my palate is apparently not very sophisticated. All I know is that the wine tasted good and that was the extent of my input into the product. Gabe thought it hilarious when I later confided to him that I had no ability to taste any of that stuff.
“You’ll have to come do a bourbon tasting with me. I can coach you through how to taste certain qualities. It takes practice.”
I didn’t respond because that sounds like something lovers might do together, or even friends.
We’re not even friends.
We reach the château built in the same golden-yellow limestone that most buildings here have been done in. It can seem dull at times, especially in the town limits where all the buildings are the same color, but there’s something to be said about the way the structures glow warmly during sunset, taking on a rich, amber hue from the sun’s dying rays.
Very similar to Gabe’s eyes when he’s feeling extreme emotion.
The château itself is a home little girls’ dreams are made of and while I love our historical house back in Kentucky, I can see why Sylvie misses this place so much. The massive three-story structure has steeply pitched roofs covered in slate tiles and on the front corners are two elegant towers with conical roofs. I can almost imagine the prince climbing up to kiss the princess, and from the windows in those rooms—one a library and the other a bedroom—the view of the vineyards is beyond compare.
The château is set on expansive grounds with meticulously maintained gardens that bloom with a variety of flowers and shrubs. Sylvie told us that gardening was her mother’s hobby and someone has been doing a beautiful job in caring for the plants in her absence.