I wasn’t sure if there was going to be any red wine in this place, but I was crossing my fingers. Call me uneducated, but I doubted bikers were guzzling chardonnay by the case full. However, it certainly looked like everything else under the sun was available as I scanned the rows and rows of rainbow-colored bottles.
Moving closer, I leaned against the aged wood and began reading all the fancy labels. I didn’t see any wine, so I lifted the heavy divider and went behind the bar to check underneath where I knew hidden shelves would house additional, less essential items.
I wasn’t normally this pushy in someone else’s home, but I thought I’d earned the right after the hell I’d survived tonight. And I had my heart set on a glass, or entire bottle, of Pinot Noir.
Checking underneath the bartop, I saw there was a wine rack. There were only a handful of choices, but I was ecstatic when I saw that there were some reds at the bottom. Though there wasn’t any Pinot, I was able to unearth a fairly cheap bottle of Merlot and set it aside for when Amelia joined me. I might have been ballsy enough to jump behind the bar, but I didn't feel right about opening any of this stuff without her express permission.