Page 105

“Yeah?” Sam said. “Just yeah?”

“What about you? Do you love me?” Alice turned the tables on Sam.

Sam shrugged her shoulders. “Of course.”

“Just ‘of course’?” Alice asked.

“I mean, of course I love you.”

“What do you love about me?”

Sam paused; her eyes wandered around the wine cellar. “I love that you make wine. I love that it allows us to do things we couldn’t do on a simple bartending salary.”

Alice narrowed her eyes. “Is that all you love me for? Making wine?”

“No,” Sam replied. “But I like that you love it.”

Alice stood in silence, staring at Sam.

Sam shifted in her stance, turning away from Alice. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I did something wrong.”

“Do you only love me because I make wine?”

“Well, I mean, it’s great. You do it well. And we can use it to get out of here, to some place better.”

Alice crossed her arms. Her whole body shook with a raging fury. She could barely contain herself from lashing out. Was Sam only interested in her as a means to an end, using her as a manipulative pawn? Was this entire relationship a front? Was her suspicion correct? Did her infatuation blind her from seeing the truth?

“What about me do you love?” Alice asked. “Me. Not the wine.”

Sam ran her hands through her golden blonde hair. Her eyes searched around the wine cellar as well. She was stalling, searching for an answer because she didn’t have one. And Alice knew it.

“I love your purple hair.”

“My hair?” Alice shouted. “I asked you what you loved about me, and you said my hair?”

“Yeah. I think it’s hot. It’s sexy. You’re sexy,” Sam responded. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me what you love about me.”

“I did!” Sam shouted. Their voices had escalated to a shouting match. “What about me? What do you love about me?”

Alice dropped her arms to her sides. “I love your personality. Ilove how you make me feel excited to see you. I love how my stomach is filled with butterflies, and my heart flutters when you’re near me. I hate how much it hurts when we’re apart.”

Sam took a step back. She placed a hand on her hip, bowed her head, and tussled with her hair. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you only love me because of the wine?”

“I love that you can help us get out of here where we could have a better life. Don’t you want that?”

“I would do this if I wasn’t paid. Would you still be with me if I stopped making wine?” Alice said.

Sam threw her hands up into the air. “This conversation is ridiculous. I don’t have to answer. You know how I feel. I’m leaving.” She stormed off toward the cellar door.

“Where are you going?”