Page 77 of A Protector For Phoebe (Love will OUT 2)

“You’re not getting this. You’re the woman I want to make the effort for. I don’t care about other women. Only you.”

Oh my. His words make me feel special. Do I say he is special to me as well? I’ve never had a boyfriend … er man … before, I don’t know how this works.

Before I have a chance to straighten out my head, he announces, “We’re here.”

I look around. I Did It My Way Distillery. “What are we doing here?”

“I arranged a private tour since I know how much you love your vodka. I thought it’d be a good chance for you to try some good old American vodka and not the Russian swill you currently drink.”

“Yeah!” I cheer. I’ve never been inside a distillery before despite owning shares in one.

I freeze with my hand on the door handle. Those shares are in my name, not Theodore’s. In fact, all of the shares are in my name. And since Theodore is now behind bars, I don’t have to worry accessing my stock portfolio will alert him as to where I am. Holy cow. I’m the rich girl again.

Ryker opens the door and pulls me into his arms. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He scans the parking lot. “Did you see suspicious activity?”

“Um.” I bite my lip. Should I tell him? Will he still want me if I am the spoiled little rich girl he thought I was when we first met? “Can we discuss this later?”

He frowns but nods. “Come on. I don’t like being outside exposed like this.”

We walk to the entrance where someone is waiting to welcome us. “Hi. I’m Ronald. I’ll be your guide today. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Rossi.”

They shake hands as I giggle. I nudge Ryker but he doesn’t correct Ronald’s misconception about our marital status. I shrug. Oh well. I guess it doesn’t matter what Ronald thinks.

For the next hour, we follow Ronald through the distillery as he explains how they make the various spirits. I Did It My Way makes vodka, rum, gin, and whiskey. I don’t pay much attention as he explains how they distill rum, gin, and whiskey. I perk up when it’s vodka’s turn.

They take making vodka seriously. They use all organic ingredients from local farmers and focus on taste instead of efficiency. Ronald looks straight at me when he claims big Russian vodka producers focus on efficiency. I guess someone told Ronald about my love of Stolichnaya. Ryker could have let me know it bothered him I drink Russian vodka instead of ambushing me, although I’m having entirely too much fun to call this an ambush.

Ronald then goes on to explain how vodka is a neutral spirit, but they try to give the drink a subtle hint of the underlying ingredients. He’s officially piqued my curiosity. I can’t wait to give it a try.

We finish the tour and end up in the bar which is still empty as they don’t open until noon on weekdays and it’s barely past eleven.

“Are you ready to try our rum?” Ronald asks.

Is he kidding? Did he not see how interested I was in the vodka distilling? He winks and grabs a bottle of vodka from the freezer below the bar. Then, he grabs three frosty shot glasses and fills them with vodka.

“I’ve never tasted vodka before. I mean, I’ve drunk vodka, obviously. But is there a special way to taste it?”

Ronald chuckles. “First, hold it in your hands to warm it up slightly.”

I grab the cold glass and shiver.

“Now, smell the vodka as you swirl it in your glass.”

I swirl my glass and take a sniff. “It smells grainy.”

Ronald smiles. “That’s good. You don’t want it to smell medicinal or like ethyl.” He lifts his glass. “Now hold the glass up to the light and look at the clarity.”

“It looks slightly bluish. I thought it should be clear.” But obviously, I know nothing about my favorite drink.

“A tint of color, like blue or yellow, is good. Vodka should have an internal energy.”

An internal energy? Is this where we get the sales pitch? I cut him off at the pass. “Are we going to actually taste the vodka?”

His smile widens. “Take a sip and let the vodka rest on your palate while exhaling through your nose. Then, swallow and take note of the aftertaste.”

I do as he says. My eyes widen as the taste explodes on my tongue. I forget all about the resting on the palate business and swallow. “Yummy.”

Ryker snickers. I frown when I see his glass is empty. He shrugs. “I know I like it. I don’t need to taste it.”

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