11. 11
“ D id you get enough to eat?” Philip asks, rolling a lint roller down my arm. I want to protest, but I know it’s easier to let him do his job. The black car turns on a gravel driveway that turns into a paved driveway the closer we get to the winery.
“I did, thank you.”
While the audience is told we go straight from the group date to the solo date, that’s not actually the case. We are always given an hour or two to get showered and changed before we are expected at the next event. If the date is going to include eating, they also give us time to eat beforehand as well.
We park and the van with the camera equipment and two different camera people pulls up beside us. They are out of the van and grabbing up their cameras before the driver can open my door.
One immediately begins to get setting shots while the other gets ready for Carmen’s arrival. Philip tells me what we will be doing. Everyone but the camera people clear out as the car pulls up. The door opens and my palms begin sweating.
Carmen is smart and beautiful. And intimidating.
A part of me wishes I had chosen Anastasia’s meal. But Carmen’s was just as good. And my attraction to her is just as strong.
It was like flipping a coin on who to pick.
“You look gorgeous,” I say as she makes her way to me. Her dress is a deep plum with strappy gold high heels that make her legs look a mile long. She looks as if she was going on a sultry date to a Michelin star restaurant.
“Thank you. You look wonderful.”
I’m in a soft pink button-down and light khakis with loafers. I look like a member of a golf club. Carmen mentioned liking preppy looking men on our first solo date. But I feel like I’m wearing a costume.
Her arms slide around my neck as she gets close. My hands automatically go around her and pull her body against mine. Soft lips press against mine. The kiss is nice, but the cameras being present keep me from deepening it. I pull back and give her a smile so as not to hurt her feelings.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello. Thanks for picking me.” Her voice is coy.
“I’m glad we can spend more time together.”
Our first date was a little awkward, as all first dates are, but by the end it felt nice and relaxed. The heat of her body is replaced by the cool air around us when she retreats .
“Tonight we are going on a short tour of this beautiful, family-owned vineyard and then our host, Amelia, is going to let us do a tasting. Sound good?” A rhetorical question, since it’s not like production would allow us to abandon the date if we didn’t want to do it.
“Sounds perfect,” Carmen says, demurely. “I love wine.”
“Me too. My best friend introduced me to it and I’ve been hooked ever since.”
We all turn and walk into the winery. Amelia is small but well honed for work. Like a sharpened sickle.
“Welcome to Grape Expectations. You are going to regret those shoes,” she says to Carmen who just laughs.
“Don’t worry, I’m a professional walking in them.”
“Sounds good. Let’s get started.”
We traipse all around the winery. From the pressing room, the storehouse, and the bottling area. All in all, we probably walk around for about an hour and a half while Amelia talks. The part that’s surprising is Carmen’s engrossment in everything Amelia says. When she’s thinking of a question, she will crinkle her nose and with each crinkle, my interest in her deepens.
“This will be our last stop and then we will head to the tasting room. You can’t use your lighting equipment to record as it can damage the wine.” Amelia directs the last piece to our camera person, who simply nods and stops to take care of whatever adjustments they need to do. “Meet us down there.”
Amelia turns and begins going down the stairs, Carmen behind her, and I bring up the rear .
“This is our rare bottle room. I think you’ll enjoy some of the history in here,” she says as she keys in a code to a locked door at the bottom of the stairs.
Carmen smiles up at me.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her. Her face softens and I bend down, pressing my lips against hers in a silent kiss. A kiss that’s just for us.
No cameras.
No audience.
No production.
We separate, but Carmen links our fingers and we make our way into the rare bottle room, the spark of attraction burning even brighter inside my chest. For twenty minutes, I watch Carmen and Amelia discuss the various wines in the room. And then finally, our tour is done.
Despite her shoes and Amelia’s concern, Carmen doesn’t show an ounce of pain as we are led back up the stairs and into the tasting room. Soft music plays through the room.
“We have six beautiful wines for you all to taste today,” she says over her shoulder.
“I don’t think I’ll ever need to know how the grapes are grown and harvested for wine again, but it does give you a new appreciation, doesn’t it?” Carmen asks me.
“I’ll almost feel bad when I drink a glass now, thinking of all the work put into creating every ounce I drink.”
She nods as I pull a seat out from the bar while Amelia pulls down glasses and bottles. Music plays gently in the background while Amelia tells us about our first wine.
Carmen moans at the first sip, the sound drawing all of my attention to her mouth .
“That’s sinfully decadent,” she says, crossing her legs, her dress hiking up her thigh. My mouth waters at the display. “Try it.”
I raise my glass and take a sip, humming in approval. “It’s very good.”
If someone asked me right now what this wine tasted like, I’d be unable to name a single note.
“The last time I was in France, I went to the Champagne region and toured with some girlfriends. It was beautiful. Maybe we should take a trip and visit the winemaking regions,” she suggests. “Do you like to travel?”
“I never really had the opportunity growing up and now, if I travel, it’s more to go visit my family.”
“Family is so important. That’s something I learned early on.” Her voice holds a note of sadness. She busies herself listening to Amelia’s explanation of the second wine.
“Did you learn that while your friend was sick?” I ask. While she mentioned the loss the first night on the show, we haven’t talked about it since.
“His name was Logan and he was only three months younger than me. One of his parents was always at the hospital. My parents took me after school every day, and on the weekends I basically there with him. Our families were friends. We traveled together over the summers. Went to the same parties. He was my brother, for all intents and purposes. And I lost him at thirteen.”
My heart breaks for her loss and the pain I can see written in the lines of her face. It doesn’t matter it’s been more than a decade. She can feel the loss just as acutely now. I take her hand in support and she laces our fingers together .
“I’m so sorry. I can only imagine how hard that was. And that’s when you decided to become a nurse?”
A small blush colors her cheeks.
“That didn’t come until a bit later. My family wanted me to become a doctor. I come from a long line of doctors. Neurosurgeons. Trauma surgeons. If it’s a surgery specialty, someone in my family specializes in it. It was always assumed I’d join the family business, so to speak.”
“Wow, that’s impressive,” I say. “When did you decide to become a nurse, then?”
I feel bad for grilling her about her background, but the more I learn about this woman, the more interested I am, and the more questions I have.
“I was an intern and one day we were doing rounds. And there was this kid having blood drawn. The nurse was telling him a joke to distract him. Logan was afraid of needles and needed to be distracted, too. And it just reminded me of how much time the nurses spent with Logan. How they’d bring him things to play with. They always spent the most time with us and I realized what I wanted to do. I switched tracks that day.”
"That was brave of you to make that change." The music catches my attention, one of my favorite slow songs. “Will you dance with me?” I ask Carmen, standing and setting my wine glass down on the bar so I can hold my hand out in invitation. Her smile is bright.
“I’d love to.” Her hand is soft in mine. She stands and I lead her to an open spot on the floor, pulling her into my arms.
“I’m going to admit, you’ve snuck up on me,” I say as we sway to the music.
“Snuck up on you, how? ”
“I didn’t really think I was going to end up having a crush on someone here.” Everything I learn about Carmen makes me feel more and more drawn to her. Anastasia’s honey brown eyes and smile flash through my mind as Carmen’s fingers play with the ends of my hair and I want her to run her fingers through it, but she restrains herself.
“Parker, are you telling me you have a crush on me?” she teases.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” This time, I don’t care about the cameras. I press a kiss to her lips, keeping it relatively chaste. Her lips are pillow soft and I know, with time, I could become addicted to them.
We part. One of the members of production has been sitting off in a secluded corner and comes over to let us know our time together and out of the house is over. And I remind myself this is a show and at the end, I’m going to have to pick only one person.