Page 8 of The Cask

“I’d like to know the history before I decide to uncork it.”

The silence stretched between us and I folded my arms over my chest. “What we have here is the Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru 1962.”

“It may be easier for me to hear you if you sat down and joined me,” he pointed out. Standing, he pulled the other chair out and gestured to it. “Please.”

I sighed loudly. “Fine.” I sat down and crossed my legs. My hands rubbed over my arms before holding myself tighter. “You’ve purchased an exquisite French wine. Richebourg is regarded for it’s full-bodied, muscular Pinot Noir and this year in particular is known for its earthy, oaky notes. It leans more acidic than soft and it’s excellent for anyone with refined tastes—”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted, standing and taking off his jacket.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you doing?”

“Allow me.” He draped his jacket around my shoulders. The warmth of his jacket provided a barrier from the chill in the air and his cologne infiltrated my nostrils. “You looked cold.” He sat down. “Please continue.”

I took a breath.

Even though I appreciated the gesture, that didn’t change my mind about him.

“Only seven hundred bottles per year are made. Due to price and exclusivity, it is a rare find which is why we don’t sell it by the glass.”

“A rare find indeed,” he agreed.

The man didn’t know as much as he thought he did. While it is rare, the 1962 vintage was overshadowed by the stellar 1961 vintage and I’d been hoping to sell the bottle for years. Although it is lucrative if someone buys the bottle, it would be hard to recoup the money selling it by the glass.

And that’s no longer my problem.

I tipped my head to the side. “Any questions?”

“Will you accept my apology?” Omari asked, searching my eyes.

Ignoring his question, I reframed mine. “Any questions regarding your purchase?”

“Would you like to know why I chose the most expensive wine you had listed?”

I was curious, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “No.”

A smile played on his lips. “I was hoping to find a bottle of Barbadillo Versos 1891 Amontillado. I didn’t see that, but I figured if you had this Richebourg behind glass on display, it must be worth something. I know a good investment when I see one,” he answered anyway. He leaned forward. “I meant no disrespect to you or your place of business. I’m sorry that I came off like—”

“A condescending asshole?” I interjected with my eyebrows lifted.

He exhaled. “Yeah, okay… a condescending asshole. I’m sorry about that. That’s not even me. You just… When I saw you, I felt… the need to impress you.”

“By shitting on the business across the street from yours? Why would I be impressed by that?” I shook my head. “Never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Do you have any questions about your purchase?”

He silently assessed me for a moment. He licked his lips before he nodded slowly. “You took me by surprise and I’m man enough to admit that it was bravado and nerves. I was caught off guard by you and I made a stupid comment. I didn’t realize you worked here. After you left Luxe, I watched you walk across the street. It wasn’t until then that I realized that you worked here, and it made sense that you would be offended by me making that comment. The Cask is a nice place and I’m sure it’s an even better place to work. I meant no harm.”

“Nice place to work,” I repeated slowly.

He searched my eyes. “I see your loyalty to The Cask and it’s admirable. If I had a waitress as dedicated as you, I would be a lucky man. Hell, I would offer you a job”—he licked his lips— “but I would much rather get to know you on a personal level.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is that your game? Dangling job opportunities like carrots?”

“No, not at all. I’m a professional and your professionalism is what made me make the comparison. But to be clear, I wouldn’t offer you a job working with me because I want to offer you so much more than that. And no, I’m not running game on you. I don’t have time for games. It’s just been a long time since someone took my breath away.”

I held his gaze but said nothing. I wanted him to sit with his words and feel it.

“I don’t have any additional questions at this time,” he said with a resounding sigh. He picked up the bottle and stood. “But I’ll be back.”

“For what?” I wondered.

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