Page 640 of Hell Hath No Fury
When we reach the exit, I use a foot to prop the door open to step on the bricked patio. Once we're both outside, she turns to help me and takes the rolls from the crook of my arm, allowing me to place the other two serving dishes on the table. I've already set out a bucket of ice, a bottle of white wine, and long-stemmed glasses.
I help Rylan to her seat and then take the time to load our plates with food. Popping open the bottle, I grab our glasses and pour a serving of wine for each of us. Rylan reaches for her drink and raises it to her nose to capture its aroma. I smile when she takes a sip and nods impressively.
"What is this?" she asks.
I remove my apron, letting it hang over the balcony wall, then seat myself. "It's a 2017 Bruno Giacosa Roero Arneis from Piedmont, Italy. It's a great pairing for the meal we're having."
Rylan stretches her neck while shuffling her shoulders. "Okay, let's see." She picks up her fork and spoon to gather a taste.
I watch as she chews, swallows then takes another pull from her glass. Rylan's eyes grow wide, and she tilts her head in surprise.
"Wow. That is really good together."
"Yeah, cream-based pasta goes better with a dry white," I add while taking a bite of food.
Rylan swallows another morsel. "Where did you learn to cook and pair wines like this?" She eats more.
"During my sabbatical—"
"Sabbatical?" she interrupts.
I nod. "I had some time off after college and spent a year in Italy. Took up cooking and kind of fell into the wine obsession naturally."
She stares at me, tipping her head as if she could relate. "That sounds amazing."
"It was, and it's a beautiful country too. They have their fair share of shady shit going on, but the people are nice for the most part."
"How long was your break?" She takes another serving into her mouth.
My eyes focus on how her tongue slips out and the way her lips wrap around the fork. I clear my throat and adjust myself in my seat. "Five years." I lean forward with my forearms on the table.
"Oh. That's a long time. Were you on like a spiritual journey?"
I follow her lips again, this time as she sips more Arneis. "I guess you can say that." I pull my focus back to her face. "My pops is grooming me to run the business one day. It's a demanding job, and he wanted me toget the knucklehead out of my system before I took on the responsibility of my family's legacy.And those were his words, not mine. So we made a deal, and my father—"
"Loves a deal," we say in unison.
My heart skips a beat in appreciation of how well she knows my dad. She respects him, something I noticed even as she talked shit about him at the bar before she knew who I was. And for whatever reason, it makes me want her more.
"And this deal?" Rylan breaks the sudden wave of silence that surrounds us.
"Oh, sorry. He gave me five years, fully funded, to explore, figure out who I am, and do whatever I wanted. Now that the time has ended, I'm supposed to learn the business and take my seat at the table. My parents are ready to retire, and my younger brother hasnodesire for the business."
"Khalil, right?" she quizzes.
"Yeah, my mother's name is Kameela. She has an obsession with the letter K."
We chuckle.
"Is there any specific meaning behind it? Religion?" She asks and continues to eat.
"No, she's just sentimental like that. So, what about you? Any siblings or weird family sentiments?"
Rylan pinches her lips together to fight a smile. "Your mom's sentiment is not weird. But, my great grandmother used to collect dolls, a tradition passed down to me."
My eyes grow wide. "Really?"
"Yup, I inherited her collection, including the large china cabinet she kept them in." She smirks.
