Page 37 of You're The One
“The next one is a barrel-aged Chardonnay. It’s our most popular bottle,” the sommelier explains, pouring a serving into each of our glasses lined up on the wooden bar. “It’s aged in French oak for twelve months, which gives it those creamy vanilla notes and a smooth finish.”
I go through the whole ritual, though I’m still not entirely sure of the logic. Swirl the wine, sniff, take a sip, let it linger on my tongue, then swallow.
“You’re supposed to let it linger on your tongue before you swallow,” Summer jokes.
I snort and take a larger sip than what qualifies as tasting. She follows suit, both of us finishing off our glasses.
Victoria is on my other side and has been glued to Dominic since we arrived, a few glasses ago. “Does it not bother you, being around others who drink?” she asks him.
I turn in time to catch Dominic shooting me a judgmental look over her head. “Not when people drink responsibly.”
I spin back to Summer and tune out their conversation. I’m not going to let him ruin my good time with his babysitting act.
We’re perched in the Santa Monica Mountains, but the winery feels more like Tuscany than California. Stone buildings, soft Italian music, and just enough faux-European charm to make you forget you’re in Malibu. The place looks like it’s straight out of a Pinterest board titled “Dreamy Vineyard Wedding.” Romantic, if you’re into that sort of thing.
Someone mentioned there’s an alpaca farm on the property, and I’m definitely planning to sneak off and find it before we leave.
“So, you and Dominic…” Summer lowers her voice just enough to avoid catching the others’ attention. I swear she’s asked some version of this question every day this week. I’ve already told her everything. Not sure what she’s still digging for. “You’ve really never been interested in one another?”
“Oh God, no. He’s my brother’s best friend.” I lift my glass and take a generous sip. “Pretty sure Ryan asked him to babysit me, which is the only reason he’s being nice. Normally we barely tolerate each other.”
“Hmm.” She swirls the wine in her glass. “Maybe your brother warned him off?”
I snort. “I doubt he had to. It’s not like Dominic’s ever looked at me that way. And I’m not exactly his type either.”
She raises a brow. “Well, you two bicker like a married couple.”
I choke on my wine a little. “Please. If that’s love, I’ll pass.”
“So, how did you end up here?”
“I didn’t tell anyone I applied. My family had no clue. Dominic didn’t either. He didn’t know I’d be here until I stepped out of the limo.”
Summer tilts her head, watching me. “I’m surprised he hasn’t sent you home yet…” There’s something in her tone, like she’s waiting for me to spill my guts.
She’s going to be disappointed.
For a second, I consider telling her about the deal. But the camera set up in the corner of the bar blinks red, a reminder that nothing here is private.
I shrug. “Guess I got lucky.”
“Hi, Mia.” Dominic appears between us. “Summer,” he adds, tipping his head in her direction.
“Hey, Dom,” Summer says.
“Dominic,” I reply coolly. He’s not getting a nickname. We know howthatwent last time.
He looks between us, the crinkle of his water bottle drawing my eyes to where his fingers are picking at the plastic label. “Are you two enjoying yourselves? We haven’t had a chance to catch up.”
Summer winces, probably realizing her mistake in not hovering around him like the other four. She recovers quickly, flashing a bright smile. “Want to take a walk?”
He looks back to her. “Sure, I’d love to.”
Then he turns to me. “That’s your third glass.” He nods toward my wine. “You should pace yourself. Did you eat breakfast?”
Is he serious right now?I haven’t heard him ask anyone else about their alcohol intake or eating habits.
“Yes, sir,” I deadpan.
