Page 17 of My Casanova

I laughed and shook my head. “Popular might not be the right word. It’s probably more because I’m the only place like this within fifty miles.” I winked and started toward the back room. “I’ll grab some toothpicks.”

I walked into the back room, and the familiar scent of aged cheese filled the air. I found the sample tray we had set up for tastings—neatly arranged with toothpicks, small tasting glasses, napkins, and the mini trash bin we used for discarded picks.

I hadn’t been lying earlier. Stan and I prided ourselves on letting customers sample before buying. We wanted people to love what they were getting, not just tolerate it. Stan always said an honest experience kept people coming back, and so far, it had worked.

I balanced the tray on one hand and walked back out into the shop. The lively chatter of the girls filled the space, and as I approached, the rich aroma of the pungent blue cheese hit me immediately.

Stan had the bottle of Ferreira open and carefully poured small servings into the tasting glasses. Fallon had already fished an olive out of the jar and was eyeing it skeptically.

I set the tray down and resisted the urge to scrunch my nose at the overwhelming scent. “Alright, ladies,” I said, grabbed a toothpick, and gestured toward the tray. “Let’s see who’s brave enough.”

Fallon popped the olive into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Her eyes widened, and she made a face as she struggled to swallow. “Oh no. No, no, no. That’s... wow. That’s strong.” She grabbed a glass of wine and downed it. “Oh, that is so much better than that foul little thing. I like the wine, but the olive can kick it to the curb.”

Poppy stood next to her and cautiously took one. She sniffed it and nibbled at the edge. “Ugh!” She groaned, wrinkling her nose. “It tastes like... feet.”

Sloane, already regretting her decision, swallowed hers with a shudder. “Oh my god, why? Who thought blue cheese inside an olive was a good idea?”

Dove laughed, took a hesitant bite, and grimaced. “Nope. Absolutely not. I need to cleanse my mouth with, like, an entire baguette.”

Olive, on the other hand, chewed slowly, contemplating. “I mean... it’s not awful. It’s kind of... interesting. But I wouldn’tgo out of my way to eat it.” She took a sip of her wine. “I mean, the wine made it more than good. I would eat that again only if I had Stan serving me a ruby port.”

Stan winked at Olive. “See, you’re seeing things my way.” He popped an olive in his mouth. “Delicious.”

Dove raised an eyebrow. “Olive, your name is literally Olive. Of course you think it’s interesting.”

Adalee popped one in her mouth and closed her eyes, savoring it. “This... this is fantastic.” She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, and her face lit up. “Oh wow. That’s actually amazing together.”

Dove watched her and hesitantly followed suit. She bit into the olive and washed it down with the Ferreira. Her expression changed instantly. “Oh. Okay. That... actually makes it better. I might be converted.”

I shook my head and laughed. “I’ll stick to the wine, thanks. Stan’s been trying to turn me into a blue cheese lover for a year, and I’m still holding firm.”

“Because you have no taste,” Stan teased and raised his glass in a mock salute.

Fallon pointed at me with her toothpick. “You’re right, though. If I’d bought this without tasting, I would have been pissed.” She grinned. “Now I know to avoid it like the plague.”

Before I could respond, Yarder reached over, grabbed an olive, and popped it into his mouth without hesitation.

Poppy gasped. “You’re supposed to eat it with the wine, you heathen.”

Yarder shrugged and chewed easily. “Not into wine, and I’m driving.”

Poppy rolled her eyes and reached up to gently caress his cheek. “I don’t think a little shot of wine is going to mess up your driving, babe.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sure you’re right, but I’m not looking to test it. Precious cargo.”

Sloane clutched her hand to her heart. “Yarder thinks we’re precious, girls. Here, I always thought I was just annoying.”

Yarder glared at Sloane. “You are annoying.”

The girls giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile. Despite their wild energy and loud opinions, they were a fun bunch.

Stan poured another round of wine and raised his glass. “To trying new things. Even if some of them taste like feet.”

Everyone laughed, clinking their glasses together before taking another sip.

“Alright, ladies, what’s next? Are we feeling brave enough for the pickled okra or honeycomb?”

Fallon groaned. “Why do I feel like you’re just trying to torture us now? I’m in for the honey, but the okra does not sound good.”

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