Emma tipped the glass back, finished it.
Gio followed her lead.
“Emma.” Nicole cleared her throat and started to read. “Pinot noir aged in oak. Notes of roses and hibiscus. Two years old. Price point, twenty-two euros.”
“You got all of that off of a sip of wine?” Carol asked.
“Gio.” Nicole waved his paper in her hand. “Pinot noir in oak. Roses and another floral. Two to three years old, likely closer to two. Price, fifteen euros.”
He smiled at Emma. “I didn’t catch the hibiscus.”
Nicole reached for the bottle and removed it from its cover and read the label. “It is in fact a pinot noir. Grown in the vast Tuscan valley with hints of roses and hibiscus. This was bottled two years ago, and the price is . . .”
Everyone hung on her last words.
“Eighteen euros.”
“Slim margin but I think this round goes to Emma. She picked up on the hibiscus and was zeroed in on the age of the bottle, whereas Gio was closer to the price point.”
Gio agreed and mentally rolled up his sleeves.
“All right. Round two.” Nicole handed the bottle over to Chris, who poured a splash in his glass before sending it on to the person on his right.
This round, Gio took more time. A much more complex blend. And it was a blend.
Just as intent, Emma sipped twice, crossed out a note, and wrote something else.
Gio had always had a soft spot in his heart for competitive women.
Not that he was going to let her win.
Not on purpose, anyway.
They both wrote down the required information on their notepads.
He glanced at her for a nanosecond.
“Do I have to cover my answers?”
He liked her feisty side.
“No, ma’am.”
With their answers in Nicole’s hand, she started to read. “Gio says this is a blend. Cabernet sauvignon and Sangiovese. At lease sixty percent cab. Not a Chianti. Smoky oak, roses, dark cherry. Four years old, thirty-five euros.”
Emma put her nose back in the glass. “I didn’t catch the cherry.”
“Subtle,” he said.
“Now Emma. Cabernet sauvignon and Sangiovese. More cab than Sangiovese. Oak, roses. Four years old. Forty euros.”
Off to the side, Gio heard Pierre say to Rob, “This should be a game show.”
Nicole pulled the wine out again and narrowed her eyes at the label. She turned it to Gio. “What does that say?”
“Dark blend,” he translated.
She looked at the back of the bottle. “It’s all written in Italian.”
Gio took the bottle back.
“No cheating,” Emma said.
He placed a hand on his chest. “I’m wounded.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Cabernet seventy-five percent with Sangiovese. Barreled in oak cured after a fire, giving it a slight smoky texture. It is in fact four years old.” He winked at Emma, then looked at Nicole. “How much?”
“Fifty. They said it was a limited edition.”
“Probably because of the fire,” Emma stated.
“A point for Gio,” Nicole announced.
While the wine bottle made the rounds, he sat forward. “A full cab from this year would likely bring out the flavor. The Sangiovese balanced it.”
She finished her taste and followed it with water. “I agree. It’s good.”
“I might have to send some home.”
The next two rounds Gio lost because of price point. If he picked up on a flower, she picked up on an herb. He was feeling the wine, she was all smiles.
Food was brought out, and Gio was pretty sure there were side bets going as to who was going to win.
Pressure was on him to win the next round or admit defeat.
“We could call it now,” Emma prodded.
“Never gonna happen.”
He took his time, did everything he could not to look at her.
This was an expensive bottle. Aged to perfection. How aged? he asked himself.
The more age, the more it cost.
Their description of the wine was almost identical. Gio pegged the wine at thirty years old, Emma said thirty-five. Gio won on the price point. He said seventy-five euros and Emma said fifty-five. The cost was seventy.
“You’re looking pretty confident over there,” he teased.
“You’re looking a little skittish.”
“More like buzzed.” His heavy pours were settling in.
Everyone around them was snacking, which he was tempted to do.
But as long as she wasn’t eating, he wouldn’t either. He did not need his taste buds polluted with flavors that weren’t in the wine.
“You’re actually better at this than I thought you’d be,” Emma praised.
“Why, thank you. But I admitted to knowing wine . . . you, on the other hand, did not. You are more than just a casual observer.”
Nicole offered a sinister laugh.
Emma won the next round by a landslide. She picked up on a pear flavor, nailed the year and the price.
Gio lifted his hands in the air in defeat. “You beat me four to two.”
Emma reached across the table to shake his hand.
He couldn’t help himself, he leaned over and kissed the back of her hand.
Her eyes lit up and she smiled.
Gio liked when she blushed.
Emma cleared her throat, took control of her hand.
“Did you save the best for last?” Gio turned his attention back to Nicole, who still had one unopened and covered bottle.
“I honestly don’t know. I wrapped them up and didn’t look.”
“One more, winner takes all?” Gio asked.
“I don’t want to humiliate you.”
“Ohhh. Damn, girl,” Chris said.
Her green eyes stared into his.
Feisty . . . a little drunk. Good God, he was in trouble.
Emma made a motion with her hand for Nicole to pour.
The bottle was opened, both glasses were filled.
She reached for hers and Gio followed.
One sniff and they both wrinkled their noses and set the glasses down without tasting.
Neither of them went any further.
“What’s wrong?” Nicole asked.
In unison, Emma and Gio said, “It’s corked.”
“What does that mean?” Jean asked.
“It’s bad, Jean . . . the wine has turned to vinegar,” Carol explained.
Nicole reached for Emma’s hand and lifted it in the air. “We have our winner!”
“We need a medal.” Chris lifted his glass high. The man was beyond tipsy.
“We can come up with something,” Jean said.
Emma’s eyes skirted to Gio and held.
Their fellow bus mates started mingling with each other.
“I owe you dinner,” Gio told her.
She shook her head. “No. You owe me for the wine. But I’ll take you up on dinner.”
Nicole sat down. “Good, ’cause I’m starving.”
He was thinking more one-on-one, but in light of where they were, he’d take what he could get. “Let’s find some food.”
CHAPTER TEN
Emma’s alarm went off way too damn early for her liking.
Her mouth was dry, and her head was on fire.
She rolled over with a moan and slapped at her phone to shut off the noise.