© 2007

“I’m not sure I’m interested in Minnesota wines. My menu’s going to be slightly different from yours,” Jake Chambers added politely, when he was really thinking, Minnesota wines… no way. “Just how much flack will I get from the local wine growers’ association if I don’t buy their wines? Are we talking boycotts, picketing, letters to the editor-what?”

Chaz Burnett grinned. “This is Minnesota, man, not an activist state like California.” The former owner of the restaurant Jake had recently purchased shrugged. “I just like to support the local growers. If you don’t see these regional wines on your menu, don’t sweat it. Restaurants change hands; shit happens.”

Jake understood there were ramifications to former customers when taking over a restaurant and making radical changes. But then again, his road to success had been paved with radical change. “I’d like to be amenable. It’s just that my wine list is-”

“I know-world-class.” Jake had restaurants in San Francisco and L.A. that always made everyone’s top-ten lists. “Hey, I understand your reluctance to offer less distinctive wines, but”-Chaz jabbed a finger at Jake-“FYI, some of our local stuff is pretty damned good. Judd Jacobson ’s for one, and darling Livvi’s, too.”

“Darling Livvi?” There had been something in Chaz’s tone that required further explanation.

“Man, I’d buy her wine even if it wasn’t a class act- because she sure as hell is. She’s one smokin’ hot babe with a bod and face that actually used to grace the covers of magazines. But her Frontenac reds are really first-rate. I suggest you try them.”

“What about her? Married, single, available?” The habitual man-to-man queries when talk of cover models entered the conversation.