by Ellie Danes
“Oh well, Wytheville is my hometown,” she said, looking away from me and avoiding eye contact, “and I spent my whole life there, aside from my years at college. So I guess I just got a bit tired of it. Needed a change of scenery.”
I nodded, realizing that this was something that she didn’t want to discuss. “A change of scenery. I hear you. I grew up in a very small town, way smaller than Wytheville. I spent my whole childhood wanting to get out of that town, although maybe now that I'm older, I can appreciate it a bit more. Still, this is a nice place, huh? Sala Valley, very pretty. And the town's got a great vibe. That's why I decided to open my main restaurant here. Have you been?”
“It's that place Nine, right?”
I nodded and smiled. “That's the one. Sala Valley's premier gourmet restaurant. I designed every item on the menu myself, you know.”
She nodded, seeming impressed. “Really?”
“Yeah. All my restaurants are like that. They're my pride and joy—especially Nine—and I have to know that everything about them is perfect.”
She nodded. “I can appreciate that. I can be a bit of a perfectionist myself, sometimes. And after working in this industry for so many years, I've become a bit of a wine snob. I always said I wouldn't become one, but when you're working with the stuff, and quality is paramount, it's kinda hard not to be.”
I chuckled. “I know how it is, don't worry.”
She stepped back, suddenly seeming a little worried—as if she had abruptly realized that she was getting a little too friendly with me.
“Anyways, speaking of quality and wine and everything,” she said, “why don't you give our Pinotage a sample.”
“There's a bit of a problem with that,” I said, smiling.
She met my gaze with a look of confusion. “There's a problem? What's wrong?”
“Well I only see one glass of wine in front of me,” I replied. “Where's yours?”
She smiled, somewhat awkwardly—but there was definitely a sparkle of interest in her eyes. I could tell that she was trying to restrain herself.
“Hahaha,” she laughed. “I'm sorry, Evan, but I have to keep things professional here. No drinking on the job—even if wine is my job.”
“Oh, come on,” I said in a teasing tone. “It's Friday night! I'm more of a workaholic than anyone I know, but even I feel like cutting loose—or even just relaxing a little bit—on a Friday night. There's no need to hold back. Come on, just have a tiny bit in a glass—and then give me that 'wine speak' again, and this time I'll know you're not making it all up.”
She smiled—a beautiful smile that sent a thrill coursing through me—and relented.
“All right. Just a little then. And please don't tell Ron I did this.”
I grinned. “My lips are sealed, Lora.”
“I'm serious,” she insisted. “Ron is a great, laid-back boss, but he's very strict about stuff like this. And when I say just a sip, I mean that—just a sip, nothing more.”
“All right, just a sip. You’re the one with the bottle, pour yourself as much as you're comfortable with.”
She smiled and poured some wine for herself. “Happy now?”
“Yes, thanks,” I said, giving her a playful grin.
I picked up my glass as she picked up hers, and we clinked our glasses together.
“Cheers!” I said. “Here's to—hopefully—a lasting relationship between Powers Restaurants and Sala Valley Winery.”
“I'll drink to that,” she said with a smile.
We each had a good, long sip of our wine.
“Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “This is actually great.”
She raised an eyebrow with mock suspicion. “You thought I was lying when I told you it was?”
“Nope, I believed you. But I always need good, hard evidence before I accept something completely. And right now, the evidence is telling me that you guys produce some top-quality wines. Exactly what I'm looking for.”
“I'm glad you're impressed,” she said. “Are you ready to try the cabernet? Or would you like to try one of our white wines next?”
“Let's mix things up. How about a sweet white?”
“Can do,” she said, moving down the table to the white wines. “Here's our sweet white.”
We sampled a few more wines, and while I was definitely focused on getting a good perspective on the quality of the wine, I was also enjoying getting a light buzz on. She didn't have very many sips, certainly nowhere near as many as I did, but I could see that the wine was loosening her up as well.
Suddenly, we found ourselves on the same side of the table instead of across from each other. I could feel the heat of her presence near me, and it was turning me on. I looked at the bare skin of her forearms and longed to run my fingertips along that smooth, lightly-tanned skin…
She looked up, and our eyes met, and I could swear that the heat of desire was burning in them. Did she want me as badly as I wanted her at this moment?
Then, shattering the sanctity of the moment, my phone rang. I sighed and shook my head. “Sorry,” I said as I took it out of my pocket. “I'd better get this.”
I looked at who was calling—and saw it was JB. What was it this time? I muttered a silent prayer that there hadn't been yet another catastrophe.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ev. Look, I just wanted to say that I really, really appreciate what you did earlier. You know, meeting with your lawyer and working out a deal so that everything could be smoothed out with Nash and his kid. And I wanted you to know that I haven't had a single drop to drink tonight. I'm staying sober the whole night—hell, the whole weekend, if I can. I'm gonna make sure I do things right from now on.”
“I’m glad to hear that, JB. Thanks for letting me know. About the fight, and the stuff with the Nash kid… Look man, let’s just put it behind us. If you want to make it up to me, pay me back by working hard and running things like clockwork down there, okay?”
“Can do, Ev, can do.”
“Good, you do that. Look, I'm in the middle of a business meeting here. I gotta go.”
“Okay. Have a good evening, Ev.”
“You too, JB.” I sighed and put the phone away.
“JB?” Lora asked.
“My step-brother. He's a bit of a…loose cannon, I guess. Gets himself into far too much trouble. He's actually the reason I couldn't be here earlier today. But never mind that, not exactly business-worthy discussion.”
“Sure. So, what do you think of the merlot?” she asked, pointing at the glass of wine in my hand.
“I think it's a winner,” I said with a smile, already forgetting about JB and his drama. “Well, now that I've sampled everything, I think I'm ready to make a decision.”
“Really?” she asked, her excitement obvious. “So, what are you gonna do?”
“I'm gonna stock all of my restaurants in California with Sala Valley wines,” I said.
“Wow, really?” she asked.
“Really. There is one condition though.”
“I'm sure Ron will meet whatever condition you need. He'll be thrilled.”
“It's not up to Ron. It's up to you.”
“Me?” she asked, looking suddenly confused.
“Dinner. You and me, tomorrow night,” I said. “What do you say?”
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