Page 16 of My Casanova

Stan, ever the salesman, pointed at Dove’s cheese. “I’d pair that with a Lambrusco.”

Dove tilted her head. “You say that like I know what that means.” She slipped her arm through his and grinned. “Show me the way, wine man. Point me in the direction of the Lambrusco.”

Stan laughed but obligingly led her toward the wine section.

I leaned against the counter and watched the chaos unfold. The shop was packed, louder than I was used to, but there was something... nice about it.

Yarder caught my eye from across the room, walked over, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about the crowd. They’ve been cooped up too long, and when I said I was coming here, they practically tackled me.”

I waved a hand. “It’s fine. I don’t mind... as long as they don’t actually start drinking olive oil.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, this is your warning that things are never normal when all of the girls are together.”

I glanced toward the front of the shop, where Smoke had disappeared out the door. “I’m surprised you didn’t go with Smoke to work on my tire.”

Yarder shook his head. “Someone had to stay back with the girls, and Dice was going with him.”

I looked around. “I didn’t even notice Dice with you guys.”

“He stayed outside. Said there was a lesser chance of losing his hearing from all of the squawking.”

“Dani!”

Yarder held up his finger. “That would be the squawking.”

I smiled wide. I kind of liked it. “You can hang out behind the register if you want. There is a stool back there.”

Yarder nodded. “Thanks.” He made his way behind the counter and sat on the stool. He made the space back there look much smaller than it did when Stan or I was back there.

“I don’t like olives, but I want to like them,” Fallon called. “Do you think I would like the blue cheese stuffed ones?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Only if you like blue cheese.” I myself could not handle blue cheese, but Stan could. He had been the one to taste-test those foul things.

“Never had it,” Fallon replied. She looked at the jar closely. “I mean, they look good.”

“Do feet look good to you? Because that is exactly what blue cheese tastes like,” Adalee laughed.

“Oh, come on,” Stan protested. “You got to give blue cheese a chance.”

“It’s mold,” Adalee insisted. “Not a fan.”

Stan wagged his finger at Adalee. “I would like to challenge you.” He walked over to the wines and looked for a beat. “Aha! I think this will change your mind.” He grabbed a bottle and came back over to Adalee. “A ruby port always pairswell with blue cheese. The sweetness counteracts the strong cheese.”

“Or you could just not eat the strong cheese,” Adalee laughed, winking at Stan. “But I do have an open mind. I’ll let you try to blue cheese me, wine man.”

Stan chuckled and shook his head as he moved behind the counter with Yarder. “It’s Stan, and that is all I ask.”

The girls gathered around the front counter and leaned in as Stan grabbed the bottle of Ferreira and began working on the cork with practiced ease. Fallon, standing closest, held up the jar of blue cheese-stuffed olives and wiggled it at me.

“Can I open these?” she asked, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

I nodded. “Have at it.”

“I promise I’ll buy them,” she added quickly, and twisted off the lid with a satisfying pop.

“Only if you like them,” I said and held up a hand. “I’m not going to force those things on anyone unless they actually enjoy them. If you hate them, Stan can take them home. I’d rather you buy something you love and come back for more than buy something you don’t and never step foot in here again.”

Fallon smiled warmly. “I like you. I can see why your shop is popular.”

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