“Finally, we agree on something.”
He pulls food from the refrigerator and specialty cookware from the deep drawer beside him, then turns on the induction surface plate.
“What are you cooking?”
“Seafood and a salad. I thought it would appeal to you.”
For real? “A Mediterranean meal?” His smile grows wider. “A meal straight to my heart.” I’m impressed by Byron’s attempt to please me. “Do you have any wine?”
“In the cellar.”
“Which is?”
“Downstairs. You need to walk through the movie theater.”
I slide off the stool and trot down the staircase to the ground level. The staircase to the lower levels is on the other side of the foyer. I head down the stairs, walk through a movie theater, a gym room, and then behind a wall of glass…
Holy Mother of God.
This is the cellar of all cellars—a complete room of refrigerators with floor-to-ceiling glass doors. I walk past each section—champagne, white, rosé, red. I open the red wine refrigerator door and step inside to browse over the labels. I choose a Nero d'Avola, my favorite before leaving Italy.
I scan the other bottles, and all the air leaves my lungs. His collection is amazing and worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Who needs Italy when I have Byron Hendricks?
6
BYRON
Giana popsthe last shrimp in her mouth and groans. Damn, I love watching her eat. She forks at the salad. “What’s in the dressing?”
“Fresh herbs.”
“You’re in the wrong business.”
I raise a brow at her. “Watch me play and then compare my cooking to my ball skills.”
“I’m sure they’re equally impressive.” She eyes me over the rim of her glass before taking a sip of wine and staring at my untouched glass. “You don’t agree with my choice of wine?”
“It’s one of my favorites. The window where I allow myself to indulge has almost closed.”
“Because of training?”
I take her dish and place it in the dishwasher. “Yes.”
“The season doesn’t start until October. You have two months.”
“I do, but tonight, I’m choosing not to drink for other reasons.”
Her glass is almost to her lips when she freezes. “Byron,” she whispers.
I round the island and take her hand. “Come sit with me. Outside.” The glass doors to the outside pool have been open all night. The lights of LA twinkle below us, and Giana has turned her head throughout the meal to sneak glances at the impressive view. It’s one of the reasons I bought this house. The sun has almost set, and the sky is a burnt orange over the ocean with the entire city below us.
“It’s stunning,” she whispers.
“It’s my favorite time of night. Nothing better than sitting out here with a wine at dusk.”
“I can’t look away.”