Knox
It was strange, being back in Winston Hills.
The air was heavier, slower than the ocean-kissed breeze of Santorini, but there was something comforting about the familiarity.
I stayed with Maverick while I looked for my own place, not out of convenience, but because I wasn’t ready to be apart from him or Ajaih just yet.
One afternoon, I set out to explore neighborhoods and scout locations for the restaurant I had every intention of building from the ground up.
I needed something with soul. Charm. A space where food could tell stories.
At some point, hunger hit me with a vengeance, and I decided to check out a cozy, contemporary bistro tucked on a quieter corner of the downtown strip.
I’d heard they carried local wines, and the vibe was laid-back but stylish, just the kind of place I could see myself frequenting.
I was halfway through a citrusy ceviche and a glass of dry rosé when I felt a shift in the room, a presence, unfamiliar but dominating.
She walked in like she owned the place, full of grace, confident, eyes sharp behind tortoiseshell frames.
She was tall, mocha-toned, dressed in wide-leg linen pants and a silk blouse that looked like it cost more than my watch.
She carried a leather satchel and an energy that was both commanding and inviting.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said as she approached the bar, “I’m Dana, the owner of Maison Noire. Just wanted to drop in and personally see how the summer rosé’s been moving.”
The bartender greeted her like she was a regular. I turned back to my meal, but I couldn’t help sneaking another glance. She was magnetic.
A few moments later, she noticed me watching. “You trying to figure out if I’m the wine lady or someone’s date?”
I smirked, “A little of both.”
“Knox,” I said, introducing myself as I held my hand out.
That earned a laugh, low, warm, throaty. “Nice to meet you, Knox. I’m definitely the wine lady, but you can call me Dana. You in the mood to taste?”
I lifted a brow, “Of the wine or the mystery?”
She grinned and pulled a bottle from her bag, the gorgeous rock on her finger nearly blinding me. “Let’s start with the wine. The mystery might require a second glass.”
We ended up sitting side by side at the bar. She poured a few samples, explaining the notes—black cherry, burnt orange, a whisper of smoke. She was sharp, knew her stuff, but never talked down. And that smile? Dangerous.
“I’m opening a restaurant soon,” I said between sips. “I’m looking to partner with local farmers, local small businesses, and local wine partners to bring a truly authentic farm-to-table energy. You always show up with a curated selection and a sense of humor?”
She tilted her head, a playful smile on her face. “Only when the client’s this charming.”
We exchanged numbers, and she gave me a wink as she packed up her bottles.
“If you’re free right now, I’d love to give you a proper tasting,” she said, innuendo heavy in her tone, “One where you’re not stealing glances while pretending to enjoy your ceviche.”
I raised my glass. “Let’s do it. Let me settle my check, and you can lead the way.”
“I’ve taken care of your check already,” she winked as she walked out. I couldn’t help thinking there was something oddly familiar about her. But I brushed it off.
We made our way to the Maison Noire test kitchen, a sunlit loft above an art gallery downtown.
She pulled out countless bottles of wine, her heels clicking against the polished concrete like punctuation, reds, whites, and everything in between.
I greeted her with two sets of glasses, one for the white wines and one for the reds, along with the kind of smile that had gotten me into trouble before.
“Figured I’d earn my pour this time,” I teased, holding up a corkscrew.
Dana smirked, “Oh, you’ll earn more than that if you keep looking at me like that.”
There it was again, that spark. Playful, but beneath it? A tension I couldn’t quite name. Familiarity wrapped in flirtation.
As she poured the first bottle, our fingers brushed, and the contact lingered longer than it should have. My skin prickled. She noticed, too, her eyes flickering to mine.
“This one’s a bit unruly,” she said, swirling the glass before lifting it to her lips, “But that’s kind of its charm.”
I watched her mouth wrap around the rim, her throat work as she swallowed. It shouldn’t have been erotic. But it was. She was sexy, and she knew it, owned it, and relished in it.
“That your way of saying it’s a wild ride worth taking?” I asked, voice dropping a bit.
Dana leaned in, her voice velvet, “I only ever bring wines I believe in.”
The room grew warmer. We moved through the tasting slowly, too slowly, and by the third bottle, we weren’t talking about wine anymore. Not really.
She told me about her start in the wine world, where she gained the education to understand what a good wine was and how to enjoy it.
Her background in finance helped her understand the financial aspect of it, and a generous gift from people she loved was the final piece that allowed Maison Noire to take off.
I told her that I was the executive Chef of a Michelin-starred restaurant in Greece.
I discussed my plans for the sister restaurant I was opening here and how I wanted my restaurant to feel like an embrace, not a transaction.
“You strike me as someone who feeds people from more than just your kitchen,” she said softly.
“And you strike me as someone who doesn’t let anyone pour into her unless they’ve earned it,” I replied.
That made her pause. Her smile faded into something gentler. Curious.
We didn’t kiss. Not then. But the air between us was dripping with want.
“Let’s do this again,” she said, cleaning up, leaving a few bottles for me to take with me.
“Soon,” I answered.
“Soon,” she echoed.
As our spontaneous wine tasting adventure ended and she walked away, I couldn’t help wondering, how would Ajaih look at me if she walked in just then?
How would Maverick feel?
Because I could feel something twisting in my gut.
Something that felt like fate was already laughing in the background.
And I had no idea what kind of story I’d just stepped into, but I had a feeling Dana wasn’t going to be just another vendor. I just didn’t know yet how close she already was.
I got back to Maverick’s place later that evening, the sunset lighting up the windows like a welcome sign. As I walked up the steps, I could already hear laughter, deep, warm, familiar. The kind that makes a house feel like home.
I followed the sound to the living room and paused at the entrance.
There they were: Ajaih curled on the couch, barefoot and radiant in a backless halter dress that clung to her like a second skin, her curly ponytail swinging every time she laughed.
Maverick was still in his scrubs, but he looked relaxed; the tension of the day eased by her presence.
They were angled toward the phone propped up on the coffee table.
“Who’s got you two smiling like that?” I asked, stepping inside.
Ajaih looked up with a grin, and Maverick tilted his head back toward me. I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Ajaih’s bare shoulder, then brushed my lips against Maverick’s neck. He hummed softly, his eyes never leaving the screen.
Curious, I stepped around to look.
And froze.
Not because I was surprised, but because I was caught off guard by just how beautiful the woman on the screen was.
Gleaming brown skin glowing under warm lighting, dark eyes full of knowing and calm, and a smile that felt like an invitation and a dare wrapped in silk, I noticed she had on a white coat and a stethoscope, making my dick twitch because it did nothing to hide the dangerous curves I knew lived underneath it.
“This is Layanna,” Ajaih said, catching the flicker in my expression.
“Yanna,” the woman corrected with a wink, “Only my patients call me Layanna.”
I smiled, holding her gaze. “Nice to meet you. I’m Knox.”
“I’ve heard,” she said, voice smooth as velvet, “You photograph well, but you look better in motion.”
That spark. The same spark I felt when I met Ajaih. The same spark I felt when I met Dana. I know it was cliche, but I was drawn to them like a moth to a flame.
I was like a deer in headlights, blushing as her fine ass complimented me.
“Thank you, Gorgeous,” I countered, “I would return the compliment, but you got me stuck right now, damn.”
Maverick chuckled and squeezed Ajaih’s knee as she giggled.
Yanna smirked and tilted her head, “See y’all tonight.” She gave us a wink and ended the call.
I straightened slowly, glancing between them, “Tonight?”
Ajaih stood, stretching like a cat. “We’re meeting up at Provocateur. Yanna, Caleb, Ahmir… and Dana.”
That last name hit like a slap of cold water. I blinked.
“Dana?” I echoed.
Ajaih nodded casually, heading toward the bedroom. “Yep. We have a VIP suite in the lounge. You’ll like her—she’s incredible.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. No. Couldn’t be. Dana’s a common name. Lots of women distribute wine and flirt like it’s an art form, right?
Right?
Dana.
Her name echoed louder in my head than it should have. My mind flashed back to the first time I saw her stepping into that bistro like she’d rehearsed the moment, like the world had paused to let her be seen. And damn, did she deserve to be seen.
She wasn’t just beautiful, she was arresting.
That cropped blonde cut framed her face like a sculptor had carved it by hand, velvet skin, almond-shaped eyes filled with intensity, lined just enough to suggest she didn’t need to try hard. They didn’t just look at you; they lingered, like she was tasting the idea of you with her gaze.
And those lips? Full. Deliberate. Pouty and nude, making you think about what they’d taste like with wine or a whisper of your name.
She didn’t smile often, but when she did, it felt like the payoff for a secret you didn’t know you were telling.
And her voice? Low, measured, almost lazy in its confidence.
Like she knew she didn’t need to raise it to command a room.
Dana had walked into my life like a poured glass of Maison Noire, smooth, intoxicating, and just the right amount of dangerous.
Now the name hung in the air like smoke.
And I had no idea if I was about to step into a collision or a reckoning. Still, something inside me coiled tight with intrigue and wonder. The Dana I’d met had been captivating, confident, and suddenly, I realized how close she could be to the people I was trying to build something real with.
I didn’t say anything. Not yet, because there was a chance this was all just a coincidence, and there was an even bigger chance that the universe was providing every sign possible that this was where I needed to be with whom I needed to be.