After Harry’s heavyset figure disappeared, Jack O’Connell leaned back in his chair as if collapsing into it. It felt as though his heart had leapt up into his throat.
“What the hell…”
If it were anything else, that would be one thing, but permanent water use rights would lead to an enormous increase in costs when operating the farm in the future. But if he refused, he felt like he would be slammed with unimaginable damages.
As he agonized in despair, his gaze fell on a small glass bottle on the table.
The water that had backflowed from the well—the evidence he had created.
“Damn it…”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and tried to steady himself. If this went to court, it was over. With trembling hands, he opened his cell phone and made a call. His hands were shaking so badly that he misdialed three times.
In the end, he tapped the familiar name of his attorney, Greg Richard.
“Hm? Jack?”
Only after catching his breath a little was he able to speak.
“Come to the farm right now. Immediately.”
“Can’t you tell me over the phone? I’m in the middle of something impor—”
“Now! I said come right now!”
When he shouted, Greg’s voice turned stiff.
“What happened?”
“An attorney came by. He’s the pear farmer’s lawyer, and I was wondering why he hadn’t joined the lawsuit, but then…”
At his incoherent rambling, Greg asked,
“What’s the other side’s attorney’s name?”
“He said it was Howard Montis. Harry? Yeah, he was also called Harry…”
In that instant, Greg’s voice hardened.
“…Where did you say you were right now?”
“My office.”
“I’ll be there within an hour. Don’t go anywhere. Sit there and wait.”
After the call was abruptly cut off, Jack felt a little more at ease. Greg was a fairly capable lawyer, so he began to hope that perhaps he might come with some other solution. After all, Greg had handled just about every water dispute in Napa and Lodi, and had been working with him for nearly ten years now.
Before even an hour had passed, a black sedan glided onto the dirt road in front of the farm. A man in a suit got out and strode toward the container office, paying no mind to the dirt splashing onto his shoes.
“Open up.”
At the voice that came with the knock, Jack opened the door.
“You’re here.”
Entering the container office, Greg brushed past Jack and dropped onto the sofa, then spoke with a somewhat fierce expression.
“Harry, you said? Is it the Rainmaker?”
“You know him?”
Greg Richard wore a troubled expression. Then he spotted the glass bottle on the table and said bitterly,
“Did Harry leave that behind?”
“Yeah.”
Greg picked up the bottle without even putting on gloves. The look in his eyes as he carefully shook it was like that of a judge looking down at a piece of evidence.
“This must be the water you backflowed.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose. I was running the pump and…”
“Jack.”
Greg raised his head.
“I know. I know how you feel. I was just asking. I’m on your side, aren’t I?”
“Phew… Yeah. Harry left it behind. Is that Harry guy famous?”
“Is he famous?”
Greg gave a faint laugh, then looked at Jack with serious eyes.
“There are three people you never want to meet as opposing counsel in Napa Valley, and the Rainmaker is one of them.”
“……”
“Even if a winery in Napa Valley owns only a hundred acres of vineyard, its annual revenue can reach tens of millions of dollars. They’re on a completely different level from ordinary farmers who grow crops and sell them to wholesalers. If a dispute over water rights breaks out in a place like that, how big do you think the lawsuit gets?”
“…Huge, I guess.”
“That’s right. Sometimes the amount at stake in the lawsuit alone is as huge as the entire revenue of the Lodi region. You’ve seen the news, right? Buying a single winery can cost over two hundred million dollars. And the Rainmaker is the kind of guy who fights with wineries like that as his clients. He’s a big shot.”
Jack blinked and asked,
“A big shot like that is defending some seventy-acre pear farm here?”
“That’s what I don’t understand either. Why a guy who mostly plays in Napa Valley came all the way to Lodi for this. But if the other side really is the Rainmaker… then you should consider yourself very unlucky.”
Jack clutched his head and sank onto the sofa across from Greg.
“Haa, then what do we do?”
“What exactly did Harry demand? I assume he wasn’t trying to drag this all the way to trial.”
“He demanded permanent water use rights. Fifty-one percent of the groundwater pumped from our well.”
“Damn it… That’s just like the Rainmaker.”
“He’s completely insane. The land is mine, and he wants to take half the water?”
Unlike the agitated Jack, Greg slowly tapped the desk with his finger.
“There’s an answer you’re hoping for, isn’t there? You want me to present you with a solution.”
“…Yeah. Is that possible?”
“No.”
At the curt answer, Jack’s face twisted.
“What?”
“If it were a demand you could ignore, that man wouldn’t have come all the way here, Jack.
Harry Montis isn’t someone who moves easily. The fact that he came to this office and presented you with a settlement offer means he’s finished all his calculations. He didn’t come here holding just one card. He’ll have taken into account every counterattack that comes after it as well.”
“Then what are you saying we should do?”
“Think about just one thing. Whether your farm can survive, or whether it gets torn to pieces in court.”
Jack could not answer.
Greg lifted the glass bottle, shook it, and said,
“The evidence is too clear. A case this clear is so easy compared to what Harry Montis has handled until now that he probably won’t even feel tense. Instead of thinking about winning, focus on settling with as little damage as possible.”
“Damn it…”
In despair, Jack lowered his head and clutched it again, while Greg could only look at him with pity. In the end, the two of them began discussing how they could reduce the annual water usage percentage they would have to give up.
Because they knew that keeping the farm alive for now and taking some losses was undoubtedly better than being utterly ruined by punitive damages.
---
At that very hour, when a farm in Lodi was likely sinking into despair because of a certain attorney, at Redwood Winery.
“Are you starting to get a sense of it?”
“I keep finding methods. Maybe something quite impressive will come out of this, so look forward to it.”
Honestly, when it came to brandy, I wasn’t even on the level of an ordinary person, let alone an expert. That was because before my regression, I hadn’t enjoyed whiskey.
By chance, I had started researching wine, which led me to gain deep knowledge of it, and from there I developed an interest in Korean liquors and studied them a little. That was the me of the present. I knew the basic principles of making brandy, but I didn’t know how subtle differences in taste arose from differences in the process.
Come to think of it, Warren seemed to know quite a lot about brandy.
“Have you always been studying brandy?”
“I’ve always been studying.”
“Then I guess you were originally planning to branch into brandy?”
“No, I was just curious. I love wine, but that doesn’t mean I never touch any other alcohol at all. Sometimes, you need something other than wine.”
“Ah…”
He smiled and stroked the tank we were in the middle of preparing for release.
“Funny thing is, your winery produces two kinds of wine. One is grape, and the other is cherry. Do you know why that’s funny? Because those are the two most important ingredients in the new brandy I’m making.”
“You mean grapes will be the base?”
“That’s right. I’ll build the structure of the new brandy, then layer another fruit’s aroma on top. And among almost all fruits, grapes have the most stable fermentation characteristics. You know why, of course.”
“Yes… They have a naturally high sugar content, with a Brix of around 20 to 25, an ideal acidity balance in terms of pH, and high microbial stability—the types and activity of natural yeasts. On top of that, they produce fewer off-flavors.”
Warren smiled in satisfaction.
“Correct. Grapes are the perfect raw material as a base for spirits, and among them, top-grade Cabernet Sauvignon is produced right here. For layering aroma on top of that, a fruit with acidity is good, and cherry happens to be the finest ingredient.”
“Hmm…”
“For now, I’m thinking of three techniques, and the one I’m considering in order to preserve the aroma is low-temperature vacuum distillation. If this works, we’ll be able to make the brandy retain the scent of cherries.”
“That makes sense. Cherry aroma is delicate and disappears easily at high temperatures.”
“Exactly. In the premium market, cherry aroma is always classified as a high-end scent. And once your girlfriend’s pear farming bears fruit, the combination of grape and pear is also one I’m very much looking forward to.”
I shook my head.
“Wow… You’ve already thought that far ahead?”
“Isn’t that obvious? Because of liquor laws, moving and storing the raw materials will be a bit troublesome, but once that’s handled, something truly remarkable will come out. Just wait a little. By the way, when did they say the low-temperature distiller would arrive?”
“In two days.”
“This is why America is going to hell. Nothing ever moves quickly here, damn it…”
He needed the low-temperature distiller to arrive before he could conduct proper experiments, but since it had not, he was stuck continuing theoretical research.
I shook my head.
“Ah, you’re not thinking of getting a DSP—Distilled Spirits Plant License—at Redwood, are you?”
“No. There’s no need to go that far… I think it’s right for us to focus on wine.”
“Right. Rather than doing everything yourself, it’s much more efficient to sell raw materials and receive dividends.”
If Redwood passed its base wines to Golden Grain, the soju house, the steady revenue from that alone would become considerable. Those wines did not need to be top-grade, so it would simply be a matter of bringing in grapes in decent condition, making wine, and selling it.
Just then, we heard that a guest had arrived outside, so we left the aging room again. But today’s visitor was not here for me.
“Oh? You came all the way here yourself?”
The person visiting the winery was a massive man, so large it seemed surprising that he could walk around. Just by looking at him, I could guess who he was.
“Say hello. He’s one of the few friends I trust. He’s an attorney. This is Harry, the one who’ll be looking after your girlfriend’s farm.”
“The Rainmaker…”
“That’s right.”
I shook hands with him.
“I’m Howard ‘Harry’ Montis. Please feel free to call me Harry.”
“Yes, I’m Brian.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Brian. When I heard that Mr. Warren had joined this winery, I’d been meaning to visit at some point.”
At those words, Warren tapped Harry’s thick arm.
“Of course you should have. But… you look even thicker than before.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve lost thirty kilograms since the last time you saw me.”
“Really? Is that true?”
“Of course. A year from now, I’ll be even slimmer than I am now.”
Warren looked at me and grinned.
“This fellow wasn’t originally like this, but after one health checkup, he ended up this way. In any case, his legs must be hurting, so we should at least get him a chair.”
“It’s all right. I’ll sit here.”
Harry perched his backside on an empty wooden crate stacked in a corner of the winery. The crate creaked and screamed in protest, but somehow it held.
“I just came from urging the other farm to settle. The terms of the settlement were for them to give us fifty-one percent of their permanent water rights, and of course, I also informed Ms. Chloe on my way here.”
I asked worriedly,
“Do you think it’ll go well?”
He raised one corner of his mouth.
“Just watch.”
If someone else had said those words, I would have taken them to mean that there were many variables, so we should wait and see how things played out. But somehow, an indescribable confidence could be read on his face. It was almost as if he considered the situation practically over.
“But seeing as you came here yourself, I doubt you’re here simply to report the result.”
When Warren asked, Harry looked at me and said,
“To be honest, I wanted to talk about the fee.”
Since it was something that naturally needed to be discussed, I nodded, but Warren cut in.
“Didn’t I say I’d cover that?”
“I thought about it, and I’d like to receive something other than money.”
Curious, I asked,
“What is it you’d like to receive…?”
“My younger sibling recently opened a restaurant in LA. I want to do something to help the place succeed, but other than legal matters, there’s not much I can do. If you promise me just one thing, I’ll handle future lawsuits related to Redwood Winery at a low cost.”
Just from that, I felt like I knew.
“Ah, then…?”
“Yes. Could you steadily supply wine to my sibling’s restaurant from now on? Of course, I’ll pay you properly for it.”
“Haha…”
At his astonishing maneuver, I let out a hollow laugh.