Love’s Influence by Tori Alvarez
Chapter 2
I takemy time driving the one-hundred miles to the Daré alla Lucé Vineyard, stopping at several spots to take pictures and write a few notes. The weekend is a chance to introduce bloggers and influencers to the vineyard, and the first group event, ‘Welcome & Nibbles,’ begins at three o’clock, which means I have plenty of time to explore on the road trip there.
A cute coffee shop right off the highway in a tiny no-stoplight town begged me to pull over. The Cup, a quaint, rickety wooden building with farmhouse décor is one of those places that would get lots of hits on the blog. People want to know where they can stop for a good cup of coffee when driving for hours around Texas on two-lane county roads.
One cappuccino and several pictures later, I’m back on the road. The owner engaged me in conversation after learning about my social media following and blog series. Now I’m running a little behind and will not have time to change and freshen up before the welcome.
Picturesque grapevineson either side of the dirt road welcome incoming guests. I pass the tasting room and follow the signs another quarter mile up the road to an Italian-style villa. A cobblestone roundabout is set in front with a bypass to a parking lot set to the side away from the vines. A valet is waiting in front by a sign welcoming the influencers.
A doorman opens my car door. “Hello and welcome to Daré alla Lucé Vineyard. Your name?” he greets me politely.
“Olivia Moran.” I smile.
He glances at his clipboard then checks something off. “Perfect. You are the last arrival. Are your bags in the trunk?”
“Yes.” He is being so efficient, there is not much for me to do or say.
“We will get your bags to the room, and you can head on in. There will be someone in the lobby to direct you. You will get your room number and key in a bit.”
“Okay. I also have my backpack there on the passenger seat. Can you bring that in as well?” I grab a few dollars from my purse to tip him. I’m glad I have cash, as I wasn’t expecting valets.
I walk through the large doors to a spacious room with a couple of leather couches and a desk set in the middle. The lady at the desk smiles and directs me to a small room to her left. My phone is clutched tightly in my hand; I’m dying to begin taking pictures but should wait until after our introductions. I didn’t google this place prior to coming, wanting to be able to write about it from the perspective of a true first-time experience.
I glance around the room and recognize two of the influencers milling about from prior openings in San Antonio. All the women are photo ready and dressed stylishly. One of the ones I don’t recognize is gorgeous and speaking to a tall man with broad shoulders. She places her hand on his shoulder and lets it run seductively down his sleeved arm. I glance down at myself, wishing I’d had time to freshen up a tad prior to meeting everyone.
“Welcome!” A handsome gentleman greets me, handing me a small glass of white wine. “You must be Olivia. I’m Carson, the general manager of Daré alla Lucé Vineyard.” He pronounces the Italian words beautifully. “Did you find us okay?”
“Hello. Yes. No trouble. I apologize, making it in with no time to spare. I was sidetracked by a coffee shop along the way.”
“No apologies necessary. That is the point of our little gathering, is it not? To explore and find places to bring people to our small towns.” His bright smile reaches his eyes.
“I guess you’re right.” I can’t help but smile in return.
“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to get our welcome started.”
I nod at him as he turns, making his way to the front of the room, where the gentleman and gorgeous influencer are standing. Carson taps the man’s shoulder, and I watch as the man nods his head, stepping away. I’m able to catch a glimpse of his profile and recognize him instantly as Lorenzo DeZavala, a famous local chef with a couple of restaurants in the city. He is gorgeous and single, or at least that’s what I’ve read. He’s very elusive with the press, always speaking about his food and never about his personal life. His signature tattooed-covered arm is hidden by the long-sleeved shirt he is wearing. Walking confidently to a large, closed door in front of the tables, he leaves the room.
I wander towards the couple of tables set up and look around for my place card. A clinking of a glass brings everyone’s attention to Carson.
“Thank you for coming and spending these next couple of days with us. Please, find your seats, and we will get started,” Carson announces.
I make my way around the second table and find my name. I take my seat next to the influencer who was speaking with Lorenzo a moment ago. She’s gorgeous, and I begin feeling unusually intimidated by her. I have never felt this before when interacting with other influencers, but this woman gives a very standoffish vibe, not acknowledging me or the other girls at the table. She is using her phone camera as a mirror while applying more gloss on her lips.
“Hi. My handle is My City Life on Instagram, but please call me Tammi,” one girl at our table announces, smiling.
“Hi. I’m Olivia.” I respond with a giggle. I always find it funny when we introduce ourselves as our Instagram handles. “But I guess I’m better known as All About SA. Am I the only one who finds it funny our names have turned into our handles?” I’m still giggling, not sure why this has tickled my funny bone.
“You’re right. It is odd, and it has become such a norm, I hadn’t thought about it.” She laughs with me.
The gorgeous influencer glances at us, rolls her eyes, and turns her focus back to her phone without introducing herself. I glance at her briefly as she takes a couple of selfies.
“I’m glad you have begun interacting with each other,” Carson begins again. “I organized this time with you to bring more attention to the small communities surrounding all the wonderful vineyards in the Hill Country. And more importantly, I want to showcase the newest boutique-style hotel located on our property. We may have the best hotel, but in order to attract guests, we need to show them everything there is to do in the region. So this is where you come in. You, as influencers, have a faithful following of people who look to you for recommendations. We want to show you all we have to offer and hope that you’ll share that with your followers.”
A woman comes around and hands each of the influencers a folder. Curious, I open it and glance at the few pages inside. This is the first time I have been invited to a multi-day event. An agenda for each day is tucked inside with a couple of menus. I also find my room number and a key card.
“As you see, today will be spent touring our property, and a wine tasting. We will cap the evening off with dinner. Let me introduce you to Lorenzo DeZavala.”
Lorenzo walks out the door he disappeared through a couple of minutes ago. He walks towards Carson as the influencers stand and clap. I follow along, not sure why they feel the need for such a spectacle, even if he is hot.
When everyone is sitting again, Carson begins. “I see you all are familiar with him, but in case you aren’t, he is owner and chef of Los Tres and Luxury in San Antonio. He has designed our menu and will be with us for the next few months, overseeing the opening.”
“Hello. Thank you for joining us.” Lorenzo greets us with a nod of his head and sexy smirk. “I have a few small bites for you to sample before you begin the tour. I wouldn’t want anyone getting too tipsy on an empty stomach during the tasting that you will be enjoying soon.”
A couple of waiters come through the door with trays. They place an appetizer plate in front of each of us, then a tray of broiled oysters in the center.
“I’ll take first pic,” Standoffish Girl says, moving the plate around to get the best picture.
“Go ahead,” I tell Tammi, smiling as the snob finishes her pictures.
“Sure?”
I nod. Once she’s done with her picture, I grab one of the oysters and place it on my plate.
“You aren’t taking a picture?” Standoffish asks sarcastically.
“What should we call you?” I ask her, not wanting to answer her question.
“Brenda.”
“Nice to meet you, Brenda,” I say, smiling, forcing politeness.
I don’t want the same picture of the food and presentation I see everyone else doing, so I bring my phone camera in for a close-up from the side, focusing on the buttery, cheesy breadcrumbs on top, making sure the ridges of the shell are clear. I take a few more pictures, each time moving ever so slightly. Then I grab my fork, dipping it in and pulling out the delicious goodness. As soon as it hits my tongue, I know we are going to be in for a grand food experience.
Tammi and Brenda are so focused on what I’m doing, they haven’t bothered to pick up their oysters.
“Dig in, ladies. It’s delicious.” I smirk at them.
“We have all heard that oysters are an aphrodisiac. But some people can’t get over the sliminess. When you broil them and bring out their flavor with the help of other ingredients, all of a sudden people aren’t turned off by them. Perfect for couples on a getaway.” Lorenzo’s gaze falls on me as he speaks.
I feel a quick flutter in my stomach with his eyes on me.
“On to the next tasting.”
This continues with six more appetizers. The plates are placed on our tables, everyone takes pictures, and then we sample. I wait and watch the way Brenda and Tammi take their pictures so I can make mine different. Since all of us will be posting and competing for similar traffic based on this trip, I want to ensure my pictures stand out.
After we finish consuming the last dish, Lorenzo speaks again.
“I have created a menu for people to enjoy, whether it is a group of women on a girls trip or a romantic couples getaway. I want the food to not only compliment the wine, but to enhance the reason for your visit. As you will see with dinner tonight, food can be a celebration or a sensual experience.” He winks in my direction. As much as I would like to think it was for me, he’s probably just flirting with the room.
“And now back to Carson for your next activity.” His smile spreads as mischievousness dances in his eyes.
“If you would like to head to your rooms for a few minutes, we will meet in the lobby in thirty minutes. We will be taking the shuttle to the tasting room on the property, where you will get a behind-the-scenes tour of our winemaking process.”
I stand, happy to have a few minutes to myself as I watch everyone quickly head to their rooms. I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Restaurant openings or fun festivals are one thing as an influencer, but this is on another level. Those events are more relaxed; I’m guessing because we aren’t the only ones in attendance. In this short time with the others, there seems to be an unspoken competition I didn’t prepare for. Each wanting to “beat” the others for the best pictures, quotes, or one-liners for the infamous follows and likes.
I take my time looking around the room at the thoughtfully placed decor. I take my camera, an actual camera, out of my bag to snap a few pics. A few wine barrels with tops are being used as high-top tables in the back of the room. The colorful fresh wildflowers add a splash of color against the neutral tones throughout the space. I pick up my wine glass and take a few flowers out of a vase, styling them. I move back, taking aim through my camera lens. Phone cameras are great on the fly or when I need to take a quick picture, but taking my time, zooming, adjusting, and moving with my camera is my real passion.
With all my attention and vision focused on the inanimate object on the other side of my small lens, I do not hear someone approach and tap me on the shoulder. I jump, bringing one hand to my chest as I clutch my camera with the other.
“Sorry. I thought everyone was primping for the wine tour,” Lorenzo says quizzically.
I’m not sure if he’s suggesting I need to freshen up or if it really was an honest question.
“I’m about to, just wanted to take a few pictures in the quiet.”
I look up at him, making sure not to stare. His soft honey-colored eyes are pulling me in.
“You aren’t like the others,” he states bluntly.
“How so?” Wondering if I should be insulted.
“They seem to be more concerned with themselves than with the property and experience.” His voice is flat.
“What am I doing that’s so different?” I tilt my head slightly.
“You have not taken a single selfie that I’ve seen. You take your pictures last. You wait and watch, switching things up.” His tone drops almost seductively as his gaze traps me.
He has been watching what I’ve been doing.
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Daré alla Lucé. I want to showcase it. Hate to disappoint you, but I will probably take a selfie or two,” I respond with a bit of sass, winking flirtatiously. I’m not sure what has come over me.
“And I’m sure they will be beautiful.” His lips pull, showing his white, perfectly straight teeth. Gah! Just another thing that is perfect about him. His damn eyes that I want to drown in, his lean, muscular physique, his slight Spanish accent, and his chocolate-brown, tousled-with-purpose hair. “I’ll leave you to it.” He cocks one eyebrow.
I nod, and as he turns to leave, his arm conveniently brushes against mine, causing a shiver up my spine. I watch as he confidently strides out the door. Knowing I need to freshen up, I quickly take a couple more pictures and head to my room before I need to meet the others.
I step into my room and am relieved at the spaciousness. I’ve stayed at a few places that have great common areas, inviting people in, but don’t have the most comfortable accommodations in the rooms.
Knowing I have no time for room pictures, I pull my makeup bag out of my suitcase along with a maxi dress and wedges for this evening’s gathering. A few swipes of mascara, some blush and highlighter, and lipstick complete my face before I run a brush through my hair. I tease it at the roots, giving it a bit of volume. I slip out of the clothes I travelled in and slide on my dress, perfume, and shoes, then grab my clutch and phone. As much as I would like to take my camera, I don’t feel like being encumbered with it on my first night.
As I walk into the lobby, I’m happy to notice I’m not the last one. I made it just in time, with no time to spare.
“The shuttle is just outside, if you would like to start making your way out.”
I follow the others to board the van. Not really wanting to interact with anyone, I make my way to the seats in the back. The van is on with the air conditioner blowing, which is nice for us because we are waiting on Brenda. Waiting. Waiting. Almost ten minutes later, she struts out in palazzo pants, a tube top, and a wide-brimmed straw hat.
I feel my eyes roll, and I shut them automatically, hoping everyone was paying attention to her and didn’t notice my faux pas. I do not want to entangle myself in any drama over the next couple of days. This influencer gig is a great way to supplement my teacher pay and meet new people.
Once she’s in the van, the driver and Carson get in.
“We will be visiting the winery and tasting room on the property. But before I continue, I would like to say that we need to keep to the schedule, so if you are not on time, we will be leaving without you. It would be unfortunate if you are left behind, but I want to respect everyone’s time as I would want mine respected. We have scheduled our staff for this experience, and they also expect to be off at a certain time.”
Somehow even though the words are to scold Brenda for her tardiness, his tone is even, making it sound pleasant.
“The winery and tasting room are now closed as all tasting rooms on the highway close between five and six in the evening. The tasting rooms in town are open a bit later, but I want to stress, these are not bars. We strive to teach our patrons about the wine and varietals.” He switches back to the business at hand quickly, not giving anyone time to discuss or complain about his statement on tardiness.
It is a short drive from the hotel to the winery and tasting room. The van comes to a stop, and we each exit, walking to a large garage door.
“This is where the process begins. The grapes are collected and placed in these large baskets.” He points to large metal baskets on the ground next to some machinery. “These large machines will crush them for us. Depending on the grape and wine we are making, some will be destemmed prior to going through the crusher. But let me introduce Kevin, who is our vintner and can speak much more eloquently about the process.”
“Let’s head on in and you can see the steel tanks.” Kevin chimes in, taking the reins.
I notice a large wooden vat that reminds me of movies where I’ve seen women stomping grapes with their feet.
Kevin opens a door next to the large garage door, holding it for everyone to walk through. I go last because I’m trying to get a quick picture of the wooden vat. I walk quickly, not wanting to be the one holding up the group.
Once we are all inside a chilly warehouse-looking room, Carson looks at me, smiling. “So you noticed our classic vat? Look familiar?” His smile widens.
I nod, smiling back. Was I the only one who noticed?
“We are planning a fun weekend where you can come and stomp your own grapes. Our marketing team is still working on the weekend and logistics, but please keep on the lookout if you would like to crush grapes the way they did in the past. By stomping on them.”
Kevin then takes over, discussing the different grapes, what is currently in the tanks, and how much longer they have before being barreled. We walk the premises listening to Kevin giving us the rundown of the wine-making process. He answers our questions and continues on. I notice that, aside from me, there are only a couple of people asking questions. Everyone else is too busy snapping pictures, and I’m not sure if they are even listening.
I’m dragging behind the group as we move around so that I can take my pictures with people out of the way. I’ve seen selfies in abundance in each and every location we’ve stopped in. They are gorgeous girls, but I’m now wondering if their pages are travel centered. I may not have as much competition as I originally thought.
We enter the tasting room, which is empty. A large table is set up with glasses on one side with glasses of water and a small bowl of water crackers are at each seat.
“Please take a seat. I would like you to taste the wines so that you are familiar with what you will be drinking tonight,” Kevin announces to the group.
“You will also notice a difference in the wine once it’s paired with your meal tonight.” Lorenzo’s voice comes from behind me.
“You decided to join us after all,” Kevin calls to Lorenzo.
After all? Was he not going to join us, I wonder?
“Yes, yes. The chefs have everything under control in the kitchen, so I came to see how the tour was going.” Lorenzo answers him, smiling and looking directly at me.
Butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach.
While everyone takes their seats, Carson, Kevin, and Lorenzo walk to the side bar, and each returns to our table with a few bottles. The influencers are sitting on either side of a long table, leaving a space on the end for Kevin and Carson to stand and place the wines so they are visible to all.
“We will begin with the whites and move towards the reds.” Kevin begins again. “We’ll start with a Muscat, a sweet wine that many would assume you would pair with dessert but can actually begin the meal.” Kevin walks around the table, pouring a taste in each glass.
He picks up one for himself, swirls the pale liquid and places the glass up to his nose. “Just a hint of floral. I didn’t want it to overpower.”
I do the same, swirling and sniffing prior to my first drink. I have been learning about wine lately and know at least some basic wine-tasting etiquette. I notice someone else gulp down the small taste as soon as it’s poured, and I smile to myself. Kevin’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything.
The first sip I take is incredibly sweet. Not my preference when it comes to wine.
“You did not enjoy it?” I look up, and Lorenzo is looking directly at me. I thought I had covered my facial expression, but I guess not.
“It’s good, but I’m not a fan of sweet wine. I guess it just surprised me with how sweet it was when it hit.” I try and explain without offending the winemaker and feel a bit annoyed for being called out.
“Then wait for dinner. You will love it with your appetizer. The pairing will cut the sweetness, and it will taste like a whole different wine.” His eyes dance as his brow lifts just a fraction.
Is he really flirting or just teasing while bragging about his food?
“I look forward to it.” My lips pull back in a half smile before I bite my bottom lip slightly. Now that I think about it, innocent flirting could be fun.
“Sounds exciting. I can’t wait to try your menu,” Brenda chimes in. He is standing next to her, so she strokes his forearm to get his attention as she speaks.
He looks down at her. “Thank you.” His gaze then comes back to me, eyes narrowed.
Are we really flirting? My heart pounds with excitement at the thought. He takes a couple of steps away from Brenda, placing himself between a couple of the other girls, directly across from me.
We take our time sipping each of the wines, listening to Kevin explain the grapes and the process. The girl who gulped down the first taste learned quickly and is now keeping pace with the group.
Lively discussions about food, the wine, and the small towns nearby begin to take place. Each of us offers any knowledge we have on shops and places for photos. Since I have never travelled here, I’m listening and trying to remember what each person recommends. Kevin gives us a couple of places to go in town, while Lorenzo stays quiet through it all.
Why is he here if all he is doing is standing around watching? Well, and drinking too. He is not participating in the tasting; instead I watch as he walks to the bar, grabs a glass, and pours himself a hefty glass of a red wine. His gaze dances around the table but lands on me often. My body heats up each time I notice him looking at me.
“And now to the one I’m most in love with at the moment. Don’t tell the others. For wine makers, picking a favorite wine is like picking a favorite child. But at the moment, this one is the star of the house.” Kevin smiles jovially, enjoying his own joke. “It’s bold and spicy. It stands on its own, and even Mr. Chef over there was stumped by what to pair with it,” he teases.
“And that is why I’m enjoying a full glass.” Lorenzo lifts his glass to Kevin. “I did not add it to the pairing menu, but as soon as I find the perfect companion, you will be the first to know.” Lorenzo’s gaze comes back to me as he winks.
Did my stomach just do flip-flops? That is not something I have felt in a long time. I roll my eyes flirtatiously in return, holding back the smile that is threatening to take over my face.
“And now it’s time for me to check in on the kitchen. Until dinner.” Lorenzo tips his head to us and walks away.
ThinkingI would see Lorenzo again during dinner, I was surprised when Carson was the only one introducing the wines and dishes. As each dish was brought out, I expected him to show up and speak with us, but each time he didn’t show, my disappointment grew.
Dinner was delicious, but the several glasses of wine I consumed have me ready for bed. Well, the wine, and if I’m honest, I don’t want to stay up with these girls anyway. If a gorgeous chef made an appearance, I would definitely get a second wind. But since he has yet to show, the bed is calling my name.