Page 38 of A Hard Sell

“It’s smoky, isn’t it? It was the forest fires.” Aleandro took a small sip of the Baschet and let it roll around in his mouth before he swallowed.

Kazio’s gaze flicked back and forth between Aleandro and Luka, obviously thinking. Then Aleandro put him out of his misery and extended his hand. “Aleandro Sartini. CEO of Sartini Wines. Pleasure to meet you.”

The corner of Kazio’s mouth curled up in the barest hint of a smile. “Kazimierz Arkadiusz Zlotowski. Proprietor of this fine establishment.” They shook hands, and launched into the most intense discussion of wine Luka had ever heard. He tried to keep up at first, but after about a minute of baffling lingo his eyes glazed over. He sipped his elegant, old-world Baschet and let his mind wander. He wondered if Morgan would try to impress Thomas with his knowledge of wine. God knew he had tried with Luka, to no avail.

“I’d better get back to work,” Kazio finally said, examining the crowd gathering at the bar with disdain. “It was an honor to meet you, Mr. Sartini.”

“Please, call me Aleandro.” They shook hands again.

Luka watched Kazio take the next order with a scowl, then he turned back to Aleandro. “Well. You’ll have to teach me more about wine so I can win him over, too.”

“Where would you like to start?” Aleandro asked with a wink.

They sipped their wine leisurely, then took their second glasses over to a table to order dinner. Luka had a great time listening to Aleandro’s stories. Fresh out of school, a young Aleandro had taught English in China for two years, before he saw the devastating effects of an earthquake firsthand and spent some years volunteering for the Red Cross. Then he had worked his way around Europe, learning about the restaurant industry in some of the best kitchens in the world, before coming back home, where he had trained as a horticulturist in Camarillo. That was where he purchased his first vineyard. The man had done so much and traveled so extensively that it seemed like he had already lived several lifetimes before he had hired Penelope, fallen in love and built a successful winery with her.

Aleandro was also very kind, and quick to laugh at Luka’s jokes. He was having such a good time that he almost forgot about Thomas. Almost.

After their third and fourth glasses were finished, Aleandro glanced at his phone. “Well, my goodness. Would you look at how late it is! I should be on my way.”

He signaled to their server for the bill, which he insisted on paying despite Luka’s protests. The matter settled, Aleandro punched a few buttons on his phone. “I’ve called a cab. Can I offer you a ride?”

“No, thank you. I think I’ll stay for a nightcap.” Luka wasn’t quite ready to be home alone with his thoughts. “Thank you again for dinner and the company.”

“It was my pleasure, Luka. Let’s do it again.”

The pub was starting to thin out by the time Aleandro left. Luka wandered back to the bar and plopped himself onto a stool. Kazio came over and stared at him.

“I’ll have a scotch for the road, please, Kazio.”

“Label?”

“You choose. Nothingtooexpensive, though,” he added, careful not to give Kazio the opportunity to slap him with a three-digit bill.

“Hmm,” Kazio replied, taking a page from Thomas’ book of noises. Luka wondered if Thomas and Morgan were still at the bar. Or maybe they’d gone back to Morgan’s place again.

“Can I ask you something, Kazio?” Luka blurted as the bartender placed a tumbler in front of him. The plunge he had taken with Aleandro had paid off, and since then the wine had only emboldened him further.

Kazio looked around as if needing a reason to escape. “If you must.”

“Why don’t you like me?”

His eyebrows rose a hair. “I don’t like anyone.”

Luka nodded, bobbing his head. “Fair…except you liked Aleandro. And you seem to not like me…a little bit extra.”

Kazio eyed him for a moment, considering. “I despise making Bloody Marys.”

A shocked laugh burst from Luka’s throat.

Kazio glared at him.

“Sorry! God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I was just surprised.”

“That drink hasteningredients.”

Luka started to count in his head but then gave up, taking a thoughtful sip of his scotch. He managed to wheeze only slightly as it burned down his throat. “So good,” he said in a strangled gasp.

The corner of Kazio’s mouth curled. “Beats the hell out of a Bloody Mary, doesn’t it?”

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