Connor Mack had too much money to spend. He often saw it as an obligation, a responsibility he couldn’t ignore. He had inherited his family’s vineyard on the western coast that had been in the Mack family for generations. The vineyard was a legacy, and one that came with its own set of expectations. Every summer, Connor would apply to work remotely from his corp tech job, only to spend a few months at the vineyard. It was his way of staying connected to his roots.

This year felt different. The vineyard ran like clockwork, but it lacked the energy of something new. So, he made a plan. Instead of relying solely on the same staff, he decided to open up a few positions, offering work opportunities to young people looking for experience. Students, travelers, anyone eager to learn the trade or simply spend time surrounded by the beauty of the place. It wasn’t about cutting costs, but about doing something meaningful. If he could share this incredible place and teach others, why not?

And that’s how you ended up here, standing in the heart of his vineyard, surrounded by endless rows of grapevines and the backdrop of the Sierra Nevada. The scenery alone was worth every hour in the sun, with golden light pouring over the hills in the evenings and the crisp scent of grapes filling the air.

It wasn’t easy work, but there was a kind of rhythm to it. The steady hum of the land, the soft rustling of leaves, and the occasional banter with the other workers made the hours pass quickly. Connor, despite being the owner, wasn’t someone who stayed locked away in an office.

“How’s it going? Marco tells me that you’ve been a hard worker,” Connor asks, his voice cutting through the stillness.

He walked casually, hands in his pockets, his easy smile making him look less intimidating. There was something disarming about him—the way he seemed genuinely interested, not just in the work but in the people doing it. He wasn’t one to bark orders or keep himself at a distance. He liked to get involved.