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The restaurant Elle selected for them was one Gia had heard of.Popular, trendy, and hard as hell to get a table. Well, unless you were Elle,apparently. The host at the front made a huge fuss when he saw her, kissing hercheek and asking about her week.

“Been a little hectic,” Elle answered. “Lots of press for thetour. How’s your mom?”

“Much better. With that hip replacement, she’s good as new.”

“Thrilled to hear it. Give her a kiss on the cheek and all mybest.”

“She would love that,” he exclaimed. “You know how she adoresyou.”

“It’s mutual, Trevor. It’s mutual.”

Did Elle literally know everyone in California? Was that a truepossibility? As they were guided to their table, right in the center of therestaurant, Gia felt like she’d been dropped in the middle of Europe. Theblack, white, and red interior was outfitted with a handful of small, roundtables leading up to a black and red bar. Wine bottles lined the walls, and themenu contained a handful of tapas dishes Gia couldn’t begin to decipher.

“You’re a people person,” Gia said, as they settled across fromeach other.

“I think that’s accurate. I happen to like people a lot. Don’tyou? Isn’t that what makes the world go ’round?”

“I like the people I know already.”

Elle nodded. “But you have friends. I’ve seen them.”

“True. I guess I have a small but close group. But you? You’relike the friendship ambassador.”

“Some wine?” the sommelier asked.

Gia liked wine but knew very little about it. She gestured forElle to go right ahead.

“I think we’ll take a bottle of your Cakebread Cab. The 2015 ifyou have it.”

Quietly, Gia admired Elle’s confidence. Plus, she always smiledand treated people courteously. She remembered how not too long ago, she’ddecided that Elle’s friendly disposition was 100 percent fake. And while shehadn’t bought into it entirely just yet, she was starting to understand thatthere was room for error in her initial judgment. What did Elle possibly haveto gain from being nice to her assistant, Andrew, earlier? It was unlikelyshe’d see the guy again, but she’d gone out of her way to be warm andinclusive. Gia was willing to admit that she might have pinned a lot ofresentment on Elle simply because she was the competition, and was notnecessarily an awful person.

“I believe we have the 2015,” the sommelier said, with a bow, anddisappeared into the nearby wine cellar.

“This can’t be good for your training,” Gia remarked with a smile.

Elle placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, you’re so sweet to lookout for me.”

“That’s me,” Gia said, with a laugh. “The sweetest.”

They stared at each other as the melody from the nearby Spanishguitar floated past. “So,” Elle said.

“So.” Another pause. “What made you ask me to dinner?” Gia asked.

“Honestly? It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

Gia sat back in her chair. “One you’re regretting now?”

Elle shook her head, and the music played on. “I wanted to get toknow you better, and now I can.”

“Scoping out the competition. Nothing wrong with that.”

They waited while the sommelier poured the wine. Elle took a sipand basked. “It’s really good.”

Gia liked the way she savored the taste, the way she pressed herlips together lightly at first and then more firmly. She had good lips. Gia tendedto stare at them a lot.

“Tell me, are you from California?” Elle asked.

“No. I moved here when I was nineteen with hopes to make it ontothe Qualifying Tour.”