“Can we start today over, Boss?” Isabella asked quietly, handing him a to-go cup of coffee. Goddamn, her calling me boss, even though she did it to be funny, sent blood straight down to my dick.
I cleared my throat, took the mug, and nodded, walking back to the driver’s side before sliding in.
“Before you get too bossy about the inevitable car rules you probably have,” she said as she settled in the passenger seat, “I brought snacks and made us a playlist.”
“I don’t have car rules,” I said as I finally looked her in the eyes.
Isabella squinted at me, angling down her chin slightly. “As bossy as you are, you definitely have car rules.”
“I don’t—no feet on the dash,” I said as she went to rest her feet, “have car rules,” I finished as I buckled my seat belt.
“See! You can’t even help yourself.” She chuckled, but she kept her feet on the dash.
“It’s just not safe, Isabella. If someone were to hit us, both of your legs would break on the impact. I don’t consider that a rule if I’m just trying to keep your legs in one piece.”
“You would want to keep my legs in one piece, wouldn’t you?” Isabella joked, but this time she slid her feet back down to the floorboard.
I didn’t try to hide my smirk when she glanced over at me this time. I said nothing, but enough passed through my glance that she turned away. I flicked on the turn signal and pulled away from the curb. Today was about to test us both.
“Okay, Ms. Brag About the Playlist, what’ve you got for us?” I asked as we made our way out of the city. The traffic was surprisingly light today and before long we’d be out of the congested part and onto the wider highway.
Isabella laughed and bounced in her seat, pulling out her phone and connecting it to the car’s Bluetooth. She tapped the screen a couple of times before I heard the first song come through the speaker and I groaned.
“If you get to torture me with 2000s emo punk music every night then you get to listen to 2000s pop all day today,” she said as she grinned wide. The lyrics to “Toxic” blared through the speaker.
I shook my head but smiled as Isabella belted out the lyrics next to me. Unbeknownst to her, I knew every word to every 2000s pop song. I’d grown up in a house full of older sisters who were ruthless in their girlhood.
So when “Case of the Ex” by Mýa came on and I belted out the bridge I laughed at the absolute shock on Isabella’s face.
“Were you a DJ in another life or something?” she asked, turning down the music a bit.
I laughed. “No, just partially raised by three bossy older sisters. This playlist is basically the soundtrack to my childhood.”
“Okay, so Britney or Christina?” Isabella asked, turning in her seat a bit to look at me.
“Ah, ah, you don’t put two queens against each other. Christina’s voice, especially on that Mulan soundtrack, was unbeatable. But, I absolutely believe the theory that they made Britney baby her voice so she’d sound different. I think she can sing just as well.”
“Okay, who are you?” Isabella asked in disbelief as she shook her head and scrolled to select the next song.
We ended up getting through a bunch of *NSYNC, TLC, Mariah Carey, and even some Aaliyah before I pulled off the highway at our exit. The car bounced along the pothole-filled off-ramp. A small sign let us know the winery was a mile and a half to the left.
Our tires crunched on the gravel as we turned onto the windy road leading to the vineyard. A large stone sign announced our arrival at Linden Hollow Vineyards. The drive up to the property was flanked by rows and rows of grape vines, currently lush and green for the season.
In the heart of the acreage sat a stone chateau, reminiscent of classic French wineries. Ivy crept up the walls and large, wooden barrels lined the porch, no doubt filled to the brim with wines. Kitschy signs and grape décor hung above the door, welcoming guests inside. I hoped we’d be able to find something suitable for the event here. Rooting for the underdog was one thing, but trying to convince a wine lover like Isabella, who was accustomed to specific tastes, was another.
I took a deep breath as I turned the large brass knob and stepped inside the lobby, a bell ringing as the door swung open. I guided Isabella inside, my hand hovering above her lower back.
“Welcome, folks! Come on in, are you here for a tasting?” An older woman stood behind the counter spanning the entire length of the room. She wore an apron over her striped button-up, her hair in a messy bun at the top of her head.
“Hi!” Isabella greeted her enthusiastically. “Yes, we’re here to hopefully fall in love with some wines. We have an event coming up that my boss here is kinda freaking out about.” She whispered the last part, cupping my hand over the side of her mouth like I couldn’t hear her.
She followed me up to the counter to read through the menu of what wines they had available. Isabella filled the woman in on the upcoming event and what types of wines we were looking for. She surprised him when she reached into her purse and pulled out a small box of chocolates.
“I brought the lemon-infused white chocolate that will pair with the Chardonnay and the spiced milk chocolate caramel that will pair with the Syrah. That way we can know if they’ll work perfectly,” she said.
“You had these chocolates in your purse the whole time and you made me snack on gummy worms on the drive down?” I teased.
“Somehow, I think you’ll live,” she said.
