First Impressions

Have you ever been on a first date with someone and ran out of things to say? Luckily, he chose a karaoke bar, so the horrible singing is a useful distraction, but I am wracking my brain trying to come up with something else to talk about. We have nothing in common. He’s outdoorsy, and I like staying in. He’s a wine drinker, and I prefer beer. He likes sushi, and I hate seafood (even if it’s cooked).

I take a sip from my mug of beer and watch him swirling wine in his glass before sniffing it. I try not to roll my eyes and force a smile as he catches me staring.

“You really should try some of this wine. It’s delicious.”

I shake my head. “Wine tends to be too dry and not sweet enough for my taste.”

He chuckles and points at my mug. “Beer isn’t sweet.”

Shrugging, I visibly roll my eyes. “It’s not supposed to be.” I take another chug of beer, “but it is refreshing.”

He studies me over his wine glass before taking a sip. “Do you like chocolate?”

I almost groan. He probably hates it and is testing me. “Of course.”

“Then you should try this new wine I got from Bright Cellars.”

“Why, is it good with chocolate?”

He grins at me. “It’s a merlot made with fruit and chocolate.”

Cringing, I make a disgusted face. “Sounds like a waste of chocolate.”

He doesn’t respond right away, instead puts his glass down and leans forward to gaze at me over the table. “I keep a wine cellar with a whole bunch of different types of wine. I’m sure I can find one you’ll really like.”

Is he serious? I would think he would be relieved when he can escape this horrible date. Is it possible he’s not having as bad a time as I am?

“Have I rendered you speechless?” He smiles at me, and for the first time captures all my attention.

“Sorry, it sounded like you just invited me back to your place?”

He nods. “I did. I can’t let you go until I’ve found a wine you love.”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “I really don’t think that’s possible.” I have to admit to myself that I’d like to see his wine cellar. Aren’t those usually reserved for wealthy people? Not that I’m a gold digger, but I can appreciate a man with nice things.

“Can I at least try?”

He smiles again, and I melt just a little bit. “Sure.”

So we go back to his place. The house itself isn’t that big, but then he heads for the cellar. A warning bell goes off in the back of my mind as I realize I’m about to go underground with a man I barely know. True, he’s the son of my father’s boss, but should that automatically mean I can trust him?

Deciding to risk it, I follow him down the steps. I almost laugh my relief at seeing rows of wine bottles. He really does have a wine cellar. I stand near the stairs as he walks over and grabs one of the bottles. He carries it back to me and holds it up. I stare at what looks like a bear on the label and read the name: Mojave Rain

“Here, hold this, and I’ll find another one for you to try.”

He looks through the rows of bottles and finally settles on a light colored one. Bringing it over and holding it up, I read the name: Indulu

“This also came from Bright Cellars. I don’t get all my wine from them, but I’ve been really impressed with their selections.”

I nod without responding and follow him back up the stairs and into the kitchen. It’s a nice space, which is open to the living room. I glance up at the vaulted ceiling and sigh. Without seeing the rest of his house, this is my favorite room. I’ve always had a weakness for open floor plans.

“Have a seat.” He points to a bar stool, which I slide onto as he places both bottles on the counter in front of me. He reaches for a corkscrew and opens the dark wine as he describes the wine and how it tastes. I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm and wonder if I can hide my disgust as I sample it. I have never liked any type of dark wine.

He pours a little bit in each glass as he instructs how I should sniff it before I taste. I do as he asks, trying to pick up the fruit he smells as I copy what he does. Finally, we drink. I’m pleased that it’s not as bad as I feared. I swallow and am surprised to actually taste the chocolate as it goes down my throat.

“Wow, there really is chocolate in there.”

He laughs and nods. “I told you so.”

I laugh too, more at his reaction than it actually being funny.

“Here try a bit more.” He pours me a full glass of the Merlot this time, and I eye the other unopened bottle. I would much rather try that one, but I don’t want to be rude.

“Where did you get such a love of wine?” I realize as I ask this that I actually want to know the answer. He speaks of wine as a man would describe a lover, and it intrigues me.

“My parents have traveled the world, and my mom would always buy a bottle from every place they visited. She liked to try a different wine with every meal. I’ve been drinking it as long as I can remember.”

I nod and take another sip of my wine. Now that my tongue has tasted it, it’s not as much a shock to my senses. I’m now able to pick up a bit of that fruit and the chocolate is even more noticeable.

We chat as we drink, and I notice the more of the merlot I drink, the easier it is to find things to talk about. We both love little dogs, and we reminisce about our favorite pets. He makes a plate of sushi and convinces me to try some of it. I didn’t even realize that not all sushi is raw fish.

I finish my wine, and he moves to open the bottle of Indulu. He takes my glass, rinses it in the sink and pours me a small amount of the amber colored Chenin Blanc. I do the same as I did with the Merlot, smelling it first before tipping the glass to taste.

Now this is fantastic, and I sigh with pleasure. Holding out my glass for more, he smiles widely.

“See, I’ll make you a wine drinker yet.”

I nod. “If all wine tasted like this, I’d be hooked.”

He fills my glass. “Our next date I’ll let you try another one.”

His comment surprises me. I almost tell him that’s presumptuous to assume we’ll have a second date but decide to smile instead, holding up my glass in a salute. “What wine goes best with breakfast?”