From The Grey House:
Vincent sipped at his drink, trying to enjoy the full flavor of the old wine. It was a twenty-year-old red from a local vineyard. It was supposed to be good, but he couldn’t care less. If it wasn’t blood, he didn’t enjoy it. He frowned into the glass wondering how to proceed. Richard was climbing the stairs to see to his boss and must have noticed the look. He was at the table in an instant.
“Something wrong with the wine, sir?” There was an anxious tone to his voice. He hated entertaining his boss even more than having the imposing man look through the paperwork.