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We walk together, though not touching, into the restaurant.
“We have a reservation for two,” I tell the host. “Steel.”
“Of course, Mr. Steel. We’re thrilled that you’re here tonight. I know our sommelier would love to have your opinion on his wine list.”
“Are there any Steel wines on it?” I ask.
“Yes, several.”
“Then I’m sure it’s adequate.” I force a smile. “Maybe you’d like to ask the doctor here what she thinks?”
“Doctor?” he says.
Ashley laughs. “He’s just yanking your chain. I’m a doctoral candidate in oenology at UCLA, and I’m doing an internship at his winery.”
The host lifts his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you could get a doctorate in oenology.”
“Not a lot of universities offer it,” she says. “But I would love to talk to your sommelier about other things. I hope to work as a sommelier myself when I’m done with my education.”
“I’ll send him right over.” He leads us to a secluded table for two.
I’m not thrilled, and I’m also not upset. I desperately want to be alone with Ashley, and I just as desperately don’t want to.
“I normally only give one wine list per table,” the host says, “but in this case, I’m going to give you both one. Since you’re both experts, of course.” He hands us each a red portfolio.
“Oh, thank you.” Ashley gives him a dazzling smile.
I simply nod.
“Giselle will be with you in a moment. She’ll be taking care of you tonight. Our sommelier is Idris. I’ll send him right over too. I know he’ll want to meet both of you.”
I barely have a chance to read the first couple of wine entries when a dark-haired gentleman—who’s way too handsome as he eyes Ashley—approaches us.
“Mr. Steel, it’s an honor. I’m Idris Delcour, the sommelier.”
“Very nice to meet you.”
“And I understand you also know a lot about wine.” He smiles at Ashley.
“Yes. I’m a doctoral candidate in oenology at UCLA.”
“Really? That’s where I studied as well, though I only completed my master’s. I’m impressed.”
Yeah, I bet he is. Only not with her education, but with her breasts, which he’s not so subtly checking out.
“I’d offer a suggestion for you this evening,” Idris continues, “but two such experts hardly need my guidance. Do you have any questions about the list?”
“I haven’t really had a chance to look at it yet,” Ashley says.
“Of course. I’ll return in a few minutes. I’ll send Giselle over in case you want to order cocktails or appetizers.” He bows and leaves the table.
Yes, he actually bows.
“Is that what sommeliers are supposed to do?” I ask Ashley.
“What? Ask us if we have questions? Of course.”
“No. The bowing. What are we? Royalty?”
She shakes her head with a chuckle. “Dale Steel is probably royalty in the wine world, but no. It’s just common courtesy. This is a fine restaurant.”
“Are you going to bow when you work at a fine place like this?”
“For God’s sake, Dale. First, he didn’t bow. He simply nodded his head.”
“Looked like a bow to me.”
“Maybe, but only slightly. It’s his way of saying he’s here to help us with our wine selection in any way.”
“Yeah,” I say under my breath. “He’s willing to help us all right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He was staring at your tits,” I say through clenched teeth.
“So?” she says. “It’s not like you’ve never stared at them.”
She’s not wrong, but her comment annoys me.
“He wasn’t rude or obnoxious about it, so let it go. Please.” She opens the wine list. “Nice selection of wines by the glass.” She flips to the next page.
I frown and open my copy of the list. As much as I want to hate Idris Delcour, he’s put together a fantastic list, which includes three Steel wines. Impressive.
Except I’m not impressed.
I’ll never be impressed with any man who stares at Ashley’s breasts.
A young woman with short dark hair approaches us. “Good evening, and welcome to Fortnight. I’m Giselle, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”
“Hello, Giselle.” Ashley smiles.
She smiles at Giselle exactly like she smiled at Idris. She’s just being herself. She wasn’t flirting with the handsome sommelier. So why am I freaking out?
Giselle returns Ashley’s smile. “I see you’re perusing the wine list. If you have questions, I can send Idris over.”
“We’ve already talked to Idris,” I say dryly. “We’d like a bottle of the Cristal.”
Ashley’s eyes nearly pop out of her head.
“And an order of the tuna tartare, to start,” I say.
“Excellent choice.” Giselle scribbles on her pad. “Bernard will be bringing a basket of our homemade sourdough bread. Would you like still water or sparkling this evening?”
“Still,” I reply.
“Perfect. I’ll get this order in.”
“Cristal?” Ashley whispers.
“I’m in the mood for it.”
“It’s so expensive!”
“So?”
I wince at myself. I’m showing off. Showing off because I’m jealous of a handsome sommelier and a middle-aged steakhouse man who previously asked Ashley to dinner. I already know Ashley has issues with my privilege, yet still I do it.
