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“We’ve tasted three of the four so far,” Carlo said. “We haven’t tried the rosé yet.”
“Excellent. We should continue, no?”
Bruce poured four glasses of the rosé. When I reached for mine, Vito slid the wine out of my reach. “Water only.” Then he placed his full plate of meat and cheese in front of me. “Mangia.”
Was he actually treating me like a child right now? “I’m good. You can give me my rosé back.”
He ignored me. To Carlo, he asked, “So tell me, what are your impressions so far?”
I clutched my nearly-empty glass of Cabernet Franc as Carlo began talking, then ate a bite of food. Spitefully, I didn’t touch my water glass.
Carlo told Vito of his process, how he would examine the equipment and run a soil test. Watch our bottling process and how we aged the wine. He came across as knowledgeable andthoughtful, more of a partner in the winery than someone who wanted to change everything. I appreciated the approach.
Was this how everyone but me saw Vito?
Before I could dwell on that particular idea, Bruce offered to show Carlo some of our unused barrels and describe how we treated the oak. The two men stood and looked at Vito and me. “Would either of you like to come?” Bruce asked.
“I must speak with Maggie privately for a moment, if you don’t mind,” Vito said in a tone that no one would dare argue with.
No one except me, of course. “I need to go with them, Vito.”
As I started to push my chair back, Vito put a hand on my arm. “Stay.” To them, he said, “She’ll be along.”
The two men left for the rear of the cellar, and Vito and I were alone. I was feeling too good to let this man ruin my mood. “Do you think your brother would make me a meatball sub?”
“A . . . what?”
“You know, meatballs, cheese and sauce on a toasted sub roll. It’s so good and I could really go for one right now.”
“No, I don’t think he has ever made one of those.” He leaned in, close enough that I could smell his fancy shower gel. “Are you flirting with Carlo?”
My jaw unhinged, low enough that it should’ve smacked the table. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“Answer the question. Are. You. Flirting. With. Him.”
“No—but even if I were, how is that any of your business?”
Instantly, I knew this was the wrong answer. The lines in Vito’s face sharpened and his stare turned forbidding, like the night sky when there were no stars, fathomless and unforgiving. “It is very much my business, bella.”
I shook my head slightly. This made no sense. Why would Vito?—
Then it hit me. “Oh, my god. Are youjealous?”
He edged away, his expression wiping clean. “Of course not.”
“Yeah, I would hope not considering you’remarried.” I emphasized the last word, hoping to see a crack in his exterior, but Vito didn’t flinch. Firmly committed to maintaining his ridiculous ruse to keep usstrictly business, obviously. I pointed in his face. “You, sir, don’t get to judge me.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Definitely. And it feelsamazing. So don’t ruin it by saying something dickish and reminding me of what a dick you are.”
He exhaled heavily and tapped his fingers on the wooden table. “I’ve had a shit day, Maggie. Do not push me.”
Yeah, he could join the club because I’ve had plenty of them recently, all due tohim. And knowing he was lying to me about being married really irritated me. Could I get him to admit the truth?
I was just buzzed enough to try.
“Aww,” I said with fake sympathy. “Did you have an argument with the little woman back in Toronto? Let me guess? She’s worried you’re sleeping around on her.” Licking my lips, I leaned in. “You know, I tried to find her online. I searched social media for every female D’Agostino in Toronto but came up empty-handed. Do you keep her under lock and key?”