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“Of course.” Diana reaches for a bottle of water and swallows a long drink.
“The funny thing is, I know I can learn a lot from your brother. Already he’s showing me I need to be more specific in my language and particularly in my tasting notes.”
“Oh, yeah. Dale’s always been precise. It’s a pet peeve of his when things are too vague.”
“Obviously. But I need to watch myself. I’m almost a doctor of oenology, and I’m using the word champagne as a blanket term. I fucking know better, Dee.”
“Why do you do it, then?”
“I don’t know. Laziness?”
“You’re hardly lazy, Ash.”
She’s right. I’m not lazy. I work hard. “Just in language, I guess. And language is very important to a sommelier. If I can’t adequately describe the wines I taste, how can I convince a diner to purchase them?”
“So you’re not a writer. Not many are.”
“But I need to be. Tasting notes are written, and they have to be precise.”
“Then you’re in the right place. Dale will teach you precision better than any wine professor.”
I smile. “I have a feeling you’re right. I just wish…”
“What?”
“I wish you weren’t leaving.” I shake my head. “That sounds so self-absorbed.”
“It’s not optimal for your situation,” she says. “I get that.”
“You have to go, though. Dale’s right.”
“I know. Thanks for understanding.”
I sigh. “I do. And usually I’m fine around people I don’t know. Just being here…”
“My parents are great, and Dale doesn’t live here. You won’t have to see him at home, just at work.”
True words.
Problem? I want to see Dale. I want to… I want everything from Dale Steel. Crazy, yes. But no less true.
His voice is a drug to me, but it’s more than that. So much more that I can’t even put into words yet.
That kiss…
It happened hours ago, and my lips are still tingling.
Diana and I haven’t known each other long, but we’ve done our share of dishing about men and other stuff. Normally, I’d tell her about the kiss.
But it seems too…private.
Not because Dale is her brother, but because…
Because…I don’t know why. The kiss, even though it lasted seconds, seemed so personal.
Not like a simple kiss at all but like… Dare I think it? Like making love. Like the most personal thing you can do with another.
All this coming from me. Ashley White. The queen of sex and one-nighters. I love sex for sex. The feelings, the colors, the scents, the sounds. All of it flows together with me, and sex with each person is different. I’ve been with countless men and even a few women. All sex, and though I felt something different with each one, the feelings were only about the sex, not the person.
That’s why Dale’s kiss was so different. The feeling was almost…
It isn’t about the kiss so much as it’s about…him.
Dale Steel.
A man I’ve known for less than a day.
Dale Steel won’t fall into bed with me like most men. No, he’ll take time.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m willing to wait.
“You still with me?”
I jerk at Diana’s words. “Yeah.”
“Good. You seemed like you were somewhere else for a minute. Are you getting light-headed? We can get out of the tub.”
I’m not light-headed. Well, maybe I am, but the tub isn’t the culprit. “I’m fine.”
“Good. We keep it below a hundred degrees so we can stay in a long time if we keep hydrated.” She raises her bottle of water.
I drain half a bottle as well. Then, “When are you leaving?”
“I need to be in Denver by Monday. So Sunday, I guess.”
Today is Friday. Two days to get to know Talon and Jade Steel well enough that I’m comfortable living in their home without Diana.
“When does your sister go back to college?” I ask.
“She leaves Sunday as well.”
Great. Just me and the parents. And Dale Steel about half a mile away.
I gaze at the pathway leading to the guesthouse. He’s not there, of course. He’s sleeping in the vineyards. Such a riddle, that one.
“It won’t be so bad,” Diana continues. “Your internship officially starts on Monday, and that will keep you busy. You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”
“I’ll know.” I force a smile. “But I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”
“I won’t, because I know you’ll be okay. My parents will make you feel more than welcome. You’ll probably get sick of my mother fawning all over you. She’s such a mother hen.”
Living in this place is a dream. I get it. A far cry from growing up homeless in the tent cities of San Francisco.
Diana doesn’t know about my childhood, how hard my own mother worked to give me a life. How hard I worked to get scholarships to college and then grad school.
My mother lives in a modest apartment in LA now, after scraping together enough money to get us off the streets and to put herself through beauty school. She often gives me shit about the wine business. In a loving way, of course. I suppose it is strange that a little homeless girl grew up wanting to learn about wine, which is one of life’s luxuries. During those hard years, luxuries of any kind were foreign to us. We were happy if we didn’t have to go to sleep hungry.
