At the tail end of May, the gardens of Mondavi Winery were filled with the scent of flowers swaying in the spring breeze and the smell of old earth. And there, in the very center, Mondavi, who cherished this garden dearly, was basking in the cool wind and warm sunlight, savoring the leisure of the afternoon.
Just then, two men entered the garden from afar. Mondavi’s eyesight was poor, and only after the two had drawn close did he recognize who they were.
They were Joseph Haggins, owner of Castello Vineyards, and his son, Matthew Haggins.
“It’s been a while, Joseph.”
In Napa Valley, Robert Mondavi’s stature stood above all else. And so even Joseph Haggins, owner of Castello Vineyards, which held To Kalon and brought in tens of millions of dollars in annual revenue, became as meek as a child before Robert.
“...I’m relieved. I heard your health wasn’t good, but seeing you today, you look well.”
“At this age, one day you feel fine, and the next you don’t. Sit. Matthew, was it?”
Joseph sat in the chair and proudly pushed his son forward.
“He is the future of our Castello. A bright boy.”
“I heard he was clever. Graduated from UC Davis with good marks, did he?”
Matthew smiled sheepishly.
“I graduated at the top of my class.”
Robert looked at Joseph and gave a faint smile.
“How could he be so smart... You may be the happiest man in Napa.”
“Hahaha! Thank you. You sit here too.”
Once Matthew had also taken a seat in a white chair that matched the beautiful garden, Joseph studied Robert Mondavi’s wrinkled face carefully and said,
“Napa still needs you, sir. I hope you’ll stay healthy and continue leading this place for a long time.”
Robert looked as though the words were absurd.
“What are you saying? Those who ought to go should go quickly. Sometimes I even think development may be slow because of me.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Because old ghosts still remain in Napa, perhaps everyone has grown accustomed to simply doing as they’re told and can’t break free of fixed ideas.”
Joseph was puzzled. In wine, tradition mattered more than anything else, so he couldn’t understand what was wrong with continuing things as they had been handed down.
“Did something happen?”
If Robert had been saying such things for a long time, that would have been one thing, but this was the first time Joseph had heard it, so he wondered if something had happened recently to make him speak that way.
After catching his breath once, Robert seemed to recall something for a moment before speaking.
“No. Well... What brings you here?”
Seeing that he did not seem to want to bring up the subject, Joseph felt disappointed, but he moved on to the main point.
“...It’s about the news that Mr. Warren Winiarski went to Redwood Winery.”
“There can’t be anyone here who hasn’t seen that magazine. That friend put his winery up for sale and turned the whole neighborhood upside down. Wicked fellow...”
“Haha, that’s right. He turned the wine industry upside down. Not just here—friends in New York have been contacting me too, asking if what the magazine says is true. Honestly, how would I know? What Mr. Warren is scheming. Do you happen to know?”
“You came here because of Warren, didn’t you?”
“It isn’t only because of that, but it’s true that it was the trigger.”
“Hmm...”
After pausing for a breath, Robert looked around the beautiful garden once and said,
“How would I know what’s inside that friend’s mind? But at the very least, one thing seemed certain.”
“...What would that be?”
“It seems he’s found a passion for wine.”
“Pardon?”
“Passion at that age... To be honest, I envied him. I was so envious it drove me mad. It made me wonder why I hadn’t had that sort of passion at his age, and it pained me that I have no time left.”
Joseph’s expression showed bewilderment at the unexpected answer. He had never imagined he would hear such a response here, of all places.
“If that sort of passion has arisen in him, then at the very least, his joining Redwood wasn’t merely for show?”
“For show? Hah. I doubt there’s anything in Warren’s head right now except wine.”
At those words, Joseph’s expression turned grave. Seeing it, Robert gave a small laugh.
“Why? Did you think that after Warren sold Stag’s Leap and it passed to Michelle and Antinori, it would become a great opportunity for Castello? But you know it, don’t you? Even if the winemaker disappears, the wine that remains is eternal.”
“I know. That is why I did not want Stag’s Leap, which floats higher than our Castello, to fall. Rather, I wanted it to continue floating nobly in its place and show people the greatness of Napa wine.”
“Then?”
“But that old gentleman trying to raise yet another winery before me is another matter entirely.”
If anyone else had said such a thing, Robert would have scoffed. It was a statement that openly revealed the desire to succeed Stag’s Leap and firmly establish oneself as another luxury wine of Napa Valley. But if it was Castello Winery, even Robert acknowledged them.
They had the right to say such things.
“Would telling me this do any good?”
“Redwood has already received two DWWA Golds. Before that, they also received two Double Golds from the San Francisco Chronicle. And now Mr. Warren Winiarski has joined them. ...Isn’t it frightening? It’s no different from the birth of a new powerhouse.”
Robert understood his fear well, but his gaze remained calm. That was precisely why Joseph could not understand Robert. Was it because these were things that would happen after his death?
Joseph took a sip of his drink and spoke cautiously.
“...So, about that. What would you think if our Castello and Mondavi created a new brand together?”
Only then did Robert realize the true purpose of his visit, and an unreadable expression appeared on his face.
“You want our two wineries to join forces and create a new brand? You mean to draw the attention Warren will take over to you and the Mondavi family?”
“That’s right. If the legacy of the Mondavi family and Castello’s power come together, we can keep Warren and Redwood sufficiently in check. And I intend to devote myself to that project as well.”
Still wearing that unreadable expression, Mondavi opened his mouth in a quiet voice.
“...Joseph, I no longer have that kind of energy left.”
“Sir...”
“To create a new brand, release it to the market, and pour all our strength into maintaining it... I no longer have the strength for that. If you truly want to do it, why not speak with my children instead of me?”
“Your word is still absolute at Mondavi Winery. Everyone is looking only to you.”
“Well... It’s a good thing to develop a competitive spirit. Good for the winery, and good for the industry too. But I believe we at Mondavi should avoid thinking that we can achieve something by receiving help from outside. In that respect, it’s regrettable, but why not seek another winery?”
Receiving a disappointing answer from Robert, whom he had trusted, Joseph’s face hardened. It was only natural, and so Robert added with a sympathetic expression,
“From what I hear, when Warren went to Redwood, Michelle Wine and Antinori, who had acquired Stag’s Leap, were quite upset. Things would be complicated with Antinori in Italy, so why not discuss this with Michelle Wine? They would likely welcome it very much.”
But Joseph snorted.
“Hmph! What discussion could I possibly have with those who sell nothing but daily wines under thirty dollars? I’ve heard about it too. Apparently Michelle Wine is determined to make a new wine using Stag’s Leap’s blending composition this time, but it will probably end up as a lower version of Stag’s Leap Cabernet Sauvignon. I don’t even know if they’ll be able to imitate half of it.”
“......Then that is unfortunate.”
Sensing there was no helping it, Joseph rose from his seat, and Matthew immediately stood behind his father as well.
“Thank you for your advice today. I am always concerned about your health, sir.”
“Thank you for worrying.”
“Then we’ll be going now.”
“Take care on your way.”
Robert quietly watched Joseph’s retreating back after they shook hands, and then another person approached from afar.
Benjamin Sinclair.
He was the General Manager in charge of Mondavi Winery at Constellation Brands, the global alcoholic beverage company.
“Joseph Haggins of Castello came by, I see.”
“He did. He seems to have a lot on his mind because of Warren.”
“You don’t seem that way at all, sir.”
“This isn’t the time for me to be worrying over such things, is it? Those worries are for you to handle.”
When Warren put Stag’s Leap on the market because there was no one to inherit the winery, Robert Mondavi had already gone through that process three years earlier. The only differences from Warren were that he had children to carry on the winery, and that the reason for the sale had been management issues.
In his later years, reckless expansion, donations, and a family dispute over control of management had caused financial difficulties, and in the end, the winery was sold to Constellation Brands for one billion dollars.
Though he had gone through such hardships, he still wielded enormous influence in the wine industry.
“Still, is there any advice you could give me?”
“There is nothing of the sort. Wine is different from sports, you see. It is closer to art. Victory does not necessarily come only when someone defeats someone else. Each has their own path.”
“But wine, too, sometimes has moments when it becomes a sport. Like the Judgment of Paris.”
“That is greed. The moment you harbor such greed, wine is ruined. If you want Mondavi to succeed, all you need to do is focus on yourselves.”
Having said that, Mondavi rose from his seat. Benjamin, who stood up after him, asked,
“Are you going to Continuum Estate?”
It was the winery founded by his second son, Tim Mondavi, and his daughter, Marcia Mondavi. Now that Robert had withdrawn from the wine industry, it was regarded as, in effect, the winery that inherited his spirit.
“If I want to teach them as much as possible before I die, I have to be diligent.”
“Don’t pay attention only to that side. Please teach us plenty as well.”
“Hoho... Everything of mine is all there, so as long as you keep working hard as you have been, there will be no problem. If there is truly something you’re curious about, come find me. I can help anytime.”
Having said that, Robert walked past Benjamin. Benjamin frowned as he watched his back grow distant. Robert still served as the face of Mondavi Winery and appeared at various places for them, but it was clear that once he died, the winery would be shaken.
---
The aging room of Redwood Winery in June.
“The acidity is too strong, isn’t it? This one’s aroma is so dense it feels like it kills the original intense fragrance of Cabernet Sauvignon.”
“I’ll try adjusting the Merlot ratio a little.”
“How about adjusting the oxygen ratio in that aging tank over there?”
“No. I set that myself. If it fails once, we lose the entire ten thousand liters.”
“That’s a shame... I’d like to adjust everything little by little.”
Warren had been sipping wine bit by bit since coming to work, and his face was already flushed red. No matter how little he was only tasting each time, if he kept drinking, it couldn’t be helped that he would get somewhat drunk.
Just then, Dad’s voice suddenly rang out from outside.
“Brian! We have guests! Mr. Warren! You have guests!”
Since he was calling not only me but Warren as well, Warren and I looked at each other and blinked.
“Is there anyone who would come looking for you?”
“No?”
“Let’s go out.”
When we opened the door to the aging room and stepped out, unexpected people had come.
“Father! Why aren’t you answering your phone!”
“We’re in trouble!”
The two people who had come to the winery were none other than Warren’s two sons, Andrew and Jonathan.
“I was working, so I must have left it somewhere. What is it?”
Warren, who had never liked paying attention to anything else in the first place, answered indifferently and looked at his two sons, who were making a fuss.
“It’s... the contract we gave you. Did you perhaps sign it and send it?”
“You mean the building in LA?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t.”
At those words, the two sons clutched their chests in relief.
“Whew...”
“Thank goodness.”
Warren, his expression twisting at the two men’s behavior, rebuked his sons.
“Hmph! I knew it would come to this. I hear the banks are in an uproar right now. What did I tell you?”
Andrew protested with an aggrieved expression.
“Until May, everyone said it would be fine. Bernanke said so too, didn’t he? That there wouldn’t be any major problem. Haa... In any case, you did well.”
As he said, Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke had made a decisive misjudgment the previous month in May when he stated that he did not expect the problems in the subprime mortgage market to spread to the broader economy or financial system.
Since I had continuously told Warren not to invest in real estate, he seemed to feel uneasy himself, and he had been holding out without signing the approval his two sons had submitted.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk...”
Warren looked at his two sons with pitiful eyes, then spoke to my dad.
“I envy you. I mean that sincerely.”
Then he looked back at his two sons and said,
“For the time being, take your hands off the real estate investment corporation’s work as well.”
“Father!”
“Hmph! If you wanted to touch it, you should have shown competence.”
After saying that, he turned sharply and went back into the aging room. I gave the two sons a sympathetic smile and followed him in.