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Authors: Roberta Latow

BOOK: Take Me Higher
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Syrah was fast becoming a new but considerable name in the California wine industry: her working of Ruy Blas, the responsible and shrewd marketing of Ethan’s wine collection, her diligent studying of wine in order to pass the Master of Wine examinations, and not least her work with the other small growers in the Napa Valley to keep Ira and other predators like him from swallowing them up, all commanded considerable respect.

People in the Napa and Sonoma Valley now talked about Syrah Richebourg’s love and passion for wine and how intelligent she was about it. Many of the men in the trade, whether scholars, vintners or collectors, were astounded at her dedication and innate knowledge. Her name was now linked with Ethan’s as a matter of course. They saw she had stepped into his shoes and believed in time she would be as respected a name as ever he was. To everyone, including Syrah, it was clear that Ethan had passed his mantle on to his daughter and had made no mistake in doing so.

Not a day slipped by that Syrah took for granted what she had done
in that year. Where had the courage come from, the strength of will to fight on against all odds? She had come to feel a profound love and pride in owning and working Ruy Blas, being a Richebourg. All that she had done, who and what she was, was giving her a greater understanding of how important it was that, though she and her family were split, at the very least Richebourg-Conti and Ruy Blas were owned by Richebourgs and that was the way it must always be.

Finally she had grown to believe what everyone said behind her back. Ethan had left her the legacy because he believed in his heart that she loved the vineyards as he did. He had known that she would never abuse his legacy to her the way Caleb would. He had taken a wild gamble on his daughter and had won. How had he known that she would be fulfilled in her life working on Ruy Blas?

For all the strides that Syrah was making, she had to be ever vigilant as to what was happening at Richebourg-Conti. No easy matter since she had to rely on gossip. To call Ira would be to put herself in the firing line and it was impossible to talk to anyone at Richebourg-Conti. It was Diana who heard the rumour that it was a matter of days before the banks foreclosed on Richebourg-Conti.

For the first time since Ethan’s death Syrah returned to Château Richebourg-Conti for a meeting with Caleb, Paula and Ira. The three of them were openly hostile, Caleb and Paula still blaming her for their trouble. But this was a new and different Syrah. She listened to the usual abuse and then, ignoring them, addressed Ira.

‘Take the pressure off Caleb and Paula, it will do you no good. I beg you not to go forward with this takeover of Richebourg-Conti. What good will it do you without Caleb? He at least knows the wine business, which you don’t.’

Ira hung tough and told her, ‘I don’t need Caleb or Paula for that. What I need is your Ruy Blas and then everyone will benefit.’

‘But mostly you! Ira, don’t do this to the Richebourgs,’ Syrah pleaded.

Things were getting more complex than Ira liked. He listened and all the time his mind kept working out a plan. He understood by the stance that Syrah was taking that if he were to close in and take over Richebourg-Conti she would most certainly not sell him Ruy Blas. That was the essential part of his deal with the Baron, and Ira had no intention of losing that deal and having to pay out eighty million dollars more
than he had already invested in a takeover of Richebourg-Conti.

While Syrah was still talking he switched his plan, believing the way to go was to get Ruy Blas first and let it appear that he had backed off from his takeover of Richebourg-Conti. It was a moment of inspiration. He seized his chance. When Syrah stopped begging him for more time for Caleb and Paula to work out their problems it was easy for him to make his move because no matter what he said, however clever Caleb and Paula might try to be, he still had the trump card. He was at that moment the major stock holder of Richebourg-Conti.

‘Syrah, you’ve come a long way since your Malibu days and your struggle to survive is admirable. But it has to be over, this playing with your legacy. The only thing that will keep Richebourg-Conti a family business is if you sell Ruy Blas to me. You do that and within three days I will back off my takeover and work something out with Caleb and Paula,’ said Ira in his most charming and honeyed voice.

Paula, who was completely out of control with rage, started to rant about how Syrah had ruined everything by not selling to them a year ago. And for the first time ever Syrah wheeled round to face her sister-in-law and told her in a voice that throbbed with anger, ‘You are a stupid, greedy, self-serving woman. Don’t you
ever
speak to me like that again or I will see you and Caleb and your family on the streets and that’s a promise!’ Then she stalked from the room.

It was all but over. Ira breathed in the scent of sweet success. Dealing with the Richebourgs, all three of them was, like taking candy from babies. They simply did not know how to fight. None of them had the least idea what straits he was in. That though he was worth hundreds of millions of pounds he was momentarily cash and credit poor as a result of overextending himself in the Napa Valley. He was having to scratch up a million dollars a day to honour the penalty clause in his contract with the Baron, and that was his prime concern.

He had never imagined Syrah would cling on so tenaciously and it was with great relief that he at last saw Ruy Blas slipping from her grasp.

Syrah knew when she walked away from Château Richebourg-Conti that she had been beaten. She was devastated. On her return to her vineyard she sat silently for hours, trying to come to terms with the fact that only she could save Richebourg-Conti. Confused as to what to do
next, where to turn for advice, how to explain to those who had supported her, given her so much, that she was bailing out, against all she had promised herself she called James. She felt obliged to let him know the turn of events, no matter that they had vowed never to see each other unless their paths should cross by chance. Then she flew to San Francisco to pick up Diana who had been working on a movie there and brought her back to Ruy Blas.

Chapter 14

Diana and Syrah were sitting together in the office of the Ruy Blas winery waiting for James to arrive. This room had been Ethan’s hideaway, the place where he had brought his best colleagues and friends. The walls and doors were of pear wood, eighteenth-century and hung with Picasso etchings of his Minotaur series. A Louis XIV Library table was placed in the centre of the room and round it five eighteenth-century high back chairs covered in their original tapestry, Hunting the Unicorn. The only other piece of furniture there was a round marble-topped table of the same period on which stood wine glasses and a pair of crystal decanters.

Diana had been most concerned when Syrah had fetched her from San Francisco. The light seemed to have gone out of her eyes, she was ghostly pale and extremely agitated. Diana’s first words to her had been, ‘What’s gone wrong?’

All Syrah had answered was, ‘I’ve had to break my vow and call James. I’ll tell you both all about it when the three of us are together.’

Diana had not pressed her. She knew there was no point. Whatever had happened was obviously too painful for her to have to repeat twice. Syrah’s anxiety was so acute that Diana was feeling unnerved, and being in this splendid room that was so personal to Syrah did not help. Syrah rarely brought anyone here. The knock at the door made both women jump.

Syrah cleared her throat and then called out, ‘Come in.’

The door opened and James stood framed in it with the sunlight behind him, looking every bit the handsome charismatic man he was. On seeing Syrah across the room, he hesitated, as if he had to balance himself before he could take a step. When he did it was to walk silently towards her. And Syrah? She remained silent and went forward to meet
him. But they didn’t just meet, they embraced each other, held each other in a hug for several seconds. Diana thought her heart would break, so intense were the feelings they had for each other.

Syrah patted James on the back and broke their embrace. There could be no mistaking the devastation she was feeling. She tried very hard to keep calm and get on with telling them the facts but a voice kept screaming in her brain, ‘I can’t do this. Why? Why must fate snatch a love like mine and James’s away? Why am I always losing what I love? Why must I lose Ruy Blas, this wine cellar, after such struggle and sacrifice and when things are working out here? Why is it never allowed that I should do what I want? My life before Ethan’s death was always what I wanted – I want that back!’

Syrah was so distracted by her new world falling down all around her yet again that though she offered them chairs round the table she failed to suggest a bottle of wine or a cup of tea. Instead she leaped directly into telling them exactly what had happened at the meeting with Ira, Caleb and Paula at Richebourg-Conti.

The three of them remained silent for several minutes, trying to absorb all that had been foisted on to Syrah at that meeting. James and Diana knew, although Syrah had not as yet told them, that she was going to sell out to Ira.

James spoke up, ‘I would happily raise the money for you to save Richebourg-Conti and keep Ruy Blas but my own vineyard is overextended, I couldn’t even make a dent in the sum needed for a move like that. Although on paper I’m a wealthy man it’s only my wife who is cash rich enough to give me the money. I can ask, but she’ll never do it. She holds her purse tightly closed. There are a few others I can call on but they’re just not in the same financial league as Ira.’

Enraged at Caleb, Paula and Ira, Diana scraped her chair back on the stone floor and stood up to pace the room. ‘Syrah, let Richebourg-Conti go down the tubes. Just keep Ruy Blas.’

‘I can’t do that. I believe Ethan would have wanted me to do whatever it takes to keep Richebourg-Conti in the family. Who’s to know? Maybe it’s poetic justice that Ruy Blas should be snatched away from me. Could it be my penance for having turned my back on it for so many years, woken too late to my love of the vine?’

‘What crap!’ declared Diana.

‘Say you were to sell out to Ira – can you trust him not to boot out Caleb and Paula and swallow up Richebourg-Conti in one gulp for himself? These events are torture for me because I can’t help you rid yourself of Ira. We must think this out, Syrah. While I understand your generosity and your belief that what you are about to do is what your father would have wanted, we have to stand back and get a proper picture of what could happen once you have sold your legacy. Can we trust Ira’s word that Richebourg-Conti will remain a family company?’ asked James.

‘There’s no point in agonizing over this. I’ll call on my attorney in the morning and sell Ira whatever it takes to save Richebourg-Conti.’

Diana was astonished it should all end with Syrah giving up Ruy Blas. She did not trust Ira to play fair. She knew something had to be done but had no more idea what any more than James did.

In the attorney’s office, it was one blow after another, with no room to negotiate. Syrah asked to have a seat on the board of Richebourg-Conti as a condition of her sale to Ira. He flatly refused. She suggested she should sell to Caleb and Paula as insurance that they would have a controlling interest in Richebourg-Conti. Again Ira flatly refused. He was adamant there was only one way a deal could be struck and that was that she should sell outright to him. Syrah settled for a sum of $73 million to be paid immediately. She walked from the lawyer’s offices a wealthy but confused woman, miserably disappointed to have lost Ruy Blas and with only a matter of days before she had to vacate her vineyard, once again not knowing where she wanted to go or what she intended to do. She joined James and Diana who were waiting for her in the attorney’s ante-room.

They could see just how traumatised Syrah was by this turn of events. Minute by minute she was breaking down in front of them. The year of struggle since Ethan’s death, her estrangement from James, the loss of the legacy which had meant more to her than the money she now had, were taking a toll on her. She was emotionally drained.

Diana wanted her to return with Keoki and Melba and stay for as long as she liked at her house. ‘I can’t do that. Keoki’s settled and happy at school, has made new friends, loves living here. No, for the time being, I want to stay here in the Napa Valley.’

Diana saw the expression of relief on James’s face. ‘Syrah’s right, Diana. She’s in no fit state to make any decisions. What you need,’ he told Syrah, ‘is a long rest, time to heal from this traumatic loss, have lots of good times to wipe out the bad ones. Have friends who love and admire you for what you have done here in the Valley. And most important of all not to think about Richebourg-Conti until you are feeling well again and in control of your life.’

Diana could see tears in James’s eyes. He turned away from Syrah to hide them. He cleared his throat. Taking both women by the arm, he walked them from the office. He could feel the nervous tremors racking Syrah’s body and was frightened for her when she simply stopped talking.

In the car he told her and Diana, ‘My barn conversion on the edge of Whitehawk Ridge isn’t quite finished but it’s habitable and that’s where I’m taking you. I’ll organise your move and tell Keoki and Melba what has happened. You can all stay there until you’re well and strong enough to pick up your life again.’

James was as good as his word. He had never told her about the conversion of the barn. He had done it for her, so that she could move out of the shack on Ruy Blas. But then they had broken up and she’d never had the chance even to hear about his making a home for her on his land.

It was still early afternoon when they arrived at the barn. After finding several rickety wooden chairs and a table and putting them out in the sun, James rounded up a crew of men to help him move Syrah’s possessions from Ruy Blas. Melba was swept along by the tide of events. It was she who best understood how distraught Syrah must be. She swung into action and took over the move from the shack while James made calls and organised carpenters before he went to pick Keoki up from school.

James took the boy to his favourite ice-cream parlour. Fondness for James was in the child’s eyes. He blurted out, ‘I knew you would miss us too much to stay away, no matter what Mom and you told me and the girls about the break up being best for all of us.’

Keoki would have continued with his nine-year-old wisdom had not James told him, ‘Keoki, for the moment, never mind the break up. I have some bad news for you. There’s no easy way to tell you this so
here it is straight. Your mom has had to sell Ruy Blas and the wine cellar.’


Never
!’ shouted the boy and swept the glass dish filled with ice cream aside. James caught it before it crashed to the floor.

Keoki asked in a hollow whisper, ‘Is it true, James?’

‘Yes, sadly. She didn’t want to but was forced into it by circumstances.’

‘She didn’t even ask me,’ said Keoki, then lowered his head and wept.

James walked him through the ice-cream parlour to his Range Rover and helped the boy on to the seat. There, he wiped the boy’s eyes and cheeks with his handkerchief, pulled Keoki to him and told him, ‘You aren’t going back to Ruy Blas. I’m taking you to Whitehawk Ridge where you and your mom and Melba will be living for the time being in a beautiful barn I’ve just had converted. It will be a great deal more comfortable than the house you’ve been camping out in. Your mom and Diana are already there. Your mom’s not taking this turn of events well. Ruy Blas and the wine cellar had come to be her life. She needs you Keoki: to hold her hand, caress her brow, talk to her and help her get over this unhappy time. She needs to get her strength back and to have fun. You must not show her how desperately unhappy you are.’

‘Is she really bad? Worse than when my grandfather died and we had to sell up and move away from Malibu?’

‘Yes, much worse.’

‘Worse than when you and Mom broke up?’ the boy pressed on.

‘Keoki, enough of the questions. She’s gone very silent and is simply worn out emotionally. She needs you. You need each other. You’re going to stay as long as she likes in the barn until she knows what she wants for the two of you. Can I depend on you to be brave and just love her and be happy to be here in the Valley?’

‘I want to see my mom,’ the boy told him.

James saw a questioning look in Keoki’s eyes. He knew what it was. The boy was silently asking, Are you going to get back together? Will we be what we once were, a family of sorts? That that was so impossible hurt James beyond measure. While he had broken his vow to his wife that he would never pick up with Syrah again, he knew that whatever help he was extending to her now, to be in an intimate relationship was
out of the question. Returning to his wife and children had been the only thing he could do.

Syrah struggled with her depression. What appeared to have saved her was the barn. It was lovely and spacious, with glass walls that looked across vineyards and hills. The rush of people to make it comfortable for her came and went and almost immediately Melba had it smelling of her gloriously good cooking. No more beans on toast, they had real money for real food and wine. Keoki kept reminding his mother how much better the barn was than the shack had been.

People were generous and called on Syrah but after a few minutes could see she needed to be alone. It was not as if she didn’t realise what was going on. On that very first day when the lorry arrived with their personal things from Ruy Blas, it registered with her how poorly they had been living. When she had owned Ruy Blas it hadn’t mattered but now that she was an extremely wealthy woman the sacrifices she had put herself, her child and her friends through pained her. She recognised, it had been passion, a need to survive, love that had driven her. She wanted to weep for no longer possessing those things. All drive and spirit seemed to have died in her and she hardly felt the same person. She was able to step outside herself, watch herself suffering, and that only depressed her more. Every day she would tell herself: Stop! But she could hardly do anything about it. She would sit day after day in the sunshine, under a large straw hat, looking across the valley, her mind empty of thoughts, ideas, desires. She felt like the walking dead and let herself wallow in her sorrow. She needed time to gather her strength, have happy times, put all that had happened behind her.

Diana spent as much time as she could spare from her own commitments with Syrah. She watched her friend’s life smashed for a second time in less than two years and could see no way for Syrah to rise again, create another independent and exciting life. Diana was bitter about the loss of Ruy Blas. She could feel Syrah’s desperation and her plight as strongly as if they were her own. It was all too unfair, so undeserved. There was an innate goodness and generosity of spirit in Syrah which only her real friends appreciated.

Slowly the days went by then the weeks, and time and distance from what had happened began to heal Syrah. She would not deal at all with
Caleb, Paula or Ira. On her instructions her lawyers kept them at bay. She had done everything she could to keep Richebourg-Conti and at a cost to herself she would never forget or forgive. Now she began once more to put her life together.

For the first time since Ethan’s death she had leisure and money. She began to fly for fun again. Every day she would go up a little bit higher, for a little bit longer. After several weeks she was packing Diana and Keoki into the bi-plane and they would fly along the coast of California to Mexico or join a rally of vintage aircraft in Arizona. But she never stayed away too long, always wanting to return home to the barn. Her heart still yearned for Ruy Blas and her work and for James’s love, though they stayed apart, waving to each other from a distance when their paths crossed on Whitehawk Ridge.

Days after Syrah sold out to Ira, Caleb and Paula realised they had lost control of Richebourg-Conti. Ira struck a deal with the husband and wife team that left them with some money, but only enough to keep a roof over their heads. At a price, they had to give up all rights to Richebourg-Conti and that included the family château.

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