2. There’s Brie in My Bed
there's brie in my bed
Gabriel
Gabriel Bouchard had learned, over the years, that saying no to Tante élise was like trying to stop a freight train with a butter knife. Technically possible, but not worth the effort.
Which was how he'd ended up on this bus.
Two weeks ago, he'd been in his aging room, turning wheels of Tomme and minding his own business, when his aunt had called.
"Gabriel. Mon chou. I need a favor."
That should have been his first warning.
"What kind of favor?"
"A tiny one. A nothing favor. The Collective is partnering with some Ontario wineries for a promotional tour, and we need someone to represent us. Someone charming. Someone photogenic. Someone who already has a social media following."
"Tante, I have a social media following because I accidentally photobombed a cabinet minister."
"Exactly! You're perfect."
"I'm not going."
There had been a pause. Then, in the voice she usually reserved for guilt-tripping him into attending family dinners: "Your poor maman, rest her soul, would be so proud to see you representing the family business."
Gabriel had closed his eyes. "That's not fair."
"Life isn't fair, mon chou. The bus leaves in two weeks. Pack light."
And here he was.
He shifted in his seat, these retrofitted bus chairs were clearly not designed for anyone over six feet tall, and watched Marnie Cole try to covertly check her phone for the fourth time in ten minutes.
She was wound tighter than a new cheese press.
Gabriel had noticed three things about her in the first hour:
One: She was pretty in a way that seemed designed to be professional. Sharp blazer, hair that looked like it had been negotiated into submission, the kind of posture that suggested she'd never slouched in her life.
Two: She was absolutely terrified of losing control, which meant this tour would be a disaster for her.
Three: She kept looking at him like he was a problem she couldn't solve, and for some reason, he found that extremely funny.
He pulled out his phone and texted his brother.
Gabriel: I'm on a bus with a wine marketing manager who looks like she's never eaten cheese without a pairing note
Luc: Is she hot?
Gabriel: That's not relevant
Luc: That's a yes
Gabriel: Focus. She's very Type A. I give it two days before she tries to organize my cheese storage
Luc: Put money on it. I say one day
Gabriel smiled and pocketed his phone.
From the front of the bus, Kayla was still narrating their journey like they were on a guided tour. Clara had her phone out, filming everything. Darnell sat in the back with his camera, silently documenting what Gabriel could only assume was going to be a very chaotic week.
"Okay, team!" Kayla called. "We need to film a quick promo before we get to Prince Edward County. Everyone gather up!"
Marnie straightened immediately, reaching for her portfolio. "I have talking points prepared..."
"Oh, we're keeping it super casual," Kayla said brightly. "Just, like, introduce yourselves. Say something fun about wine and cheese."
Gabriel watched Marnie's face do something complicated.
"Fun," she repeated.
"Yeah! You know. Lighthearted. Playful."
Marnie looked like she'd been asked to perform surgery without anesthesia.
Gabriel stood, stretching. "I'll go first if you want."
She glanced at him, relief flickering across her face before she smoothed it away. "That's fine. Sure."
Clara set up her phone on a small tripod wedged between two seats. "Okay, cheese guy, you're up. Just look at the camera and be yourself."
Gabriel positioned himself in front of the lens, hands in his pockets. Casual. Easy.
"Bonjour," he said. "I'm Gabriel Bouchard from Fromagerie Bouchard in the Eastern Townships.
Fourth-generation cheesemaker, which means I've been legally required to love cheese since birth.
" He paused. "We make traditional Quebec cheeses using milk from our own herd, and if you've never tried a proper aged Cheddar from the Townships, you're missing out.
Also, I have a hedgehog named Maurice who's probably hidden somewhere on this bus, so if you see him, don't panic. "
Clara lowered her phone, delighted. "Wait, you actually brought a hedgehog?"
"He's very well-behaved."
"That's amazing. Okay, wine lady, you're up."
Marnie stood, smoothing her blazer. She moved into position with the precision of someone who'd given presentations to boardrooms full of executives who wanted her to fail.
Gabriel stepped aside but stayed close enough to watch.
She looked directly at the camera. Smiled. It was a good smile, professional, warm enough to seem genuine.
"Hi, I'm Marnie Cole, marketing manager at Evergreen Estates Winery in Niagara.
We specialize in cool-climate wines, focusing on sustainable practices and terroir-driven flavor profiles.
I'm excited to showcase how Ontario wines can complement Quebec's incredible artisanal cheeses, and I think you'll be surprised by some of the pairings we've developed. "
She paused. Glanced at Clara. "Was that okay?"
"It was..." Clara looked at Kayla.
"Very informative," Kayla said carefully.
Gabriel couldn't help himself. "You sound like a press release."
Marnie's head turned toward him. "Excuse me?"
"No, it was good. Just very..." He gestured vaguely. "Prepared."
"I am prepared. That's my job."
"Sure, but we're on a bus. Not at a shareholders meeting."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you critiquing my media presence right now?"
"I'm just saying, you could loosen up a bit."
"I don't need to loosen up. I'm perfectly..."
"Let's try one more take," Kayla interrupted, her voice aggressively cheerful. "Marnie, maybe just... tell us why you love wine? Like, personally?"
Marnie looked like she'd been asked to reveal state secrets.
Gabriel leaned against the seat, curious now. Did she even know how to talk about wine without a script?
She took a breath. Reset.
"Hi. I'm Marnie Cole. I work at Evergreen Estates, and I..." She paused, something shifting in her expression. "I love wine because it's about place. It's about the soil and the season and the person who made it. Every bottle tells a story, and my job is to help people hear it."
There. That was better. She almost sounded human.
"And I'm looking forward to learning more about cheese," she added, glancing at Gabriel. "Even if some people think I need to loosen up."
Gabriel grinned. "See? That wasn't so hard."
"You're very annoying."
"I get that a lot."
Clara clapped her hands. "Okay, that was perfect! The banter is chef's kiss. We're definitely using that."
Marnie looked alarmed. "The part where I called him annoying?"
"All of it. People love a good rivals-to-lovers vibe."
"We're not rivals," Marnie said quickly.
"Or lovers," Gabriel added, just to watch her react.
Her cheeks went pink. Just slightly. Enough that he noticed.
"Obviously," she said.
Kayla checked her watch. "Okay, we've got about an hour until we hit Prince Edward County. Everyone should hydrate and maybe practice your pairing intros. Marnie, do you have your notes ready?"
"Always."
"Gabriel, do you need..."
"I'm good," he said. "I'll just talk about cheese. That's kind of my thing."
Marnie muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "of course it is."
* * *
They arrived at the Prince Edward County venue an hour later, or rather, an hour and twenty minutes later, because they'd missed the turn and the driver had to circle back through a residential neighborhood while Kayla frantically Googled directions.
Marnie had gripped her portfolio the entire time like it was a life raft.
Now, standing in the parking lot of a boutique winery called Sandbanks Estate, Gabriel watched her visibly pull herself together.
"Okay," she said, mostly to herself. "We're only twenty minutes late. That's fine. It's fine."
"It's fine," Gabriel agreed.
She shot him a look. "Are you mocking me?"
"No. I genuinely think it's fine."
"We had a schedule."
"And now we have a revised schedule."
"That's not how schedules work."
Gabriel hefted a crate of cheese wheels from the bus's storage compartment. "You know what pairs well with stress?"
"Therapy?"
"Cheese." He offered her a small, cloth-wrapped wedge. "Here. Try this. It's a Fleuron, washed-rind, aged for 60 days. Tastes like butter and hazelnuts."
Marnie stared at the cheese like he'd just handed her a live grenade.
"I can't eat that right now."
"Why not?"
"Because we're about to go into a professional event and I'll smell like..." She gestured at the cheese. "That."
"You'll smell delicious."
"That's not the same thing."
"It absolutely is." He unwrapped the corner and broke off a piece. "Come on. Trust me."
She hesitated. Then, with the expression of someone accepting a dare, she took the piece and bit into it.
Gabriel watched her face shift, surprise first, then something closer to pleasure.
"Oh," she said quietly.
"See?"
"That's..." She looked down at the remaining cheese in her hand. "That's actually really good."
"I know."
"And you just carry this around?"
"Always." He wrapped it back up and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "You never know when someone needs emergency cheese."
Marnie was still looking at him, something unreadable in her expression. Then she shook her head slightly, like she was clearing it.
"We should go inside," she said.
"Lead the way, boss."
"I'm not your boss."
"Could've fooled me."
She started toward the entrance, and Gabriel followed, smiling to himself.
This was going to be a very interesting week.
Inside, the venue was exactly what Gabriel had expected: exposed brick, industrial lighting, wooden barrels repurposed as tables.
A small crowd had already gathered, local food bloggers, a few wine club members, and someone who looked like they might be from the regional tourism board, and a woman in a blazer with a press badge from "Ontario Wine Weekly," which sounded important, even if it was probably just a blog.
The sommelier, a middle-aged man in a bow tie, greeted them with enthusiastic handshakes.
"Welcome, welcome! We're so excited to have you. Now, I've taken the liberty of pre-selecting the wine pairings based on the descriptions you sent over."
Marnie's smile went tight. "Oh. I was hoping we could collaborate on those."
"No need! I've been doing this for thirty years. I know what works."
Gabriel caught the flash of frustration on Marnie's face before she smoothed it away.
"Of course," she said. "I'm sure they'll be wonderful."
They set up at a long table near the front of the room. Gabriel arranged his cheeses in order of intensity, mild to bold, while Marnie fussed with the wine bottles, adjusting their angles like she was arranging flowers.
The sommelier poured the first pairing: a Chardonnay alongside Gabriel's Fleuron.
Gabriel tasted it. Frowned slightly.
Wrong.
The wine was too oaky, too heavy. It overpowered the delicate nuttiness of the cheese. Anyone with a decent palate would notice.
He glanced at Marnie. She'd tasted it too, and her expression said she agreed.
But the sommelier was already addressing the crowd, talking about "bold flavor profiles" and "complementary notes."
Gabriel caught Marnie's eye. She gave a tiny shake of her head. Don't.
He ignored her.
"Actually," Gabriel said, stepping forward with an easy smile, "I think we might want to adjust this pairing."
The sommelier paused mid-sentence. "I'm sorry?"
"The Chardonnay is fantastic, really beautiful oak integration, but it's a bit much for this cheese. The Fleuron is subtle. Delicate. You want something that'll let it breathe, not drown it."
"We tried something similar last fall at a harvest dinner in Sutton, same cheese, paired with a Viognier. Everyone left talking about the cheese, but no one remembered the wine. That’s not balance."
He turned to the crowd. "Anyone here ever had a pairing that was technically correct but just didn't... sing?"
A few hands went up.
"Exactly. Pairing isn't just about matching intensity.
It's about conversation. The wine and the cheese should talk to each other, not shout.
" He picked up a different bottle from the table, a Riesling that Marnie had brought as a backup.
"This, though? This would be perfect. Crisp, a little floral.
It'll bring out the hazelnut notes without competing. "
He looked at the sommelier, still smiling. "Unless you'd rather stick with the Chardonnay. I'm not the expert here."
The sommelier's face did something complicated. But the crowd was already murmuring, interested.
"Well," the man said stiffly. "I suppose we could try it."
Gabriel poured samples and passed them around. Within minutes, people were nodding, smiling, agreeing.
Better.
He glanced at Marnie, expecting her to look pleased.
Instead, she looked annoyed.
Very annoyed.
Which, frankly, he hadn't expected.
* * *
After the event, Marnie cornered him near the bus.
"What was that?" she asked.
"What was what?"
"You completely undermined the sommelier in front of everyone."
Gabriel blinked. "I saved the pairing."
"You embarrassed him."
"He was wrong."
"He's been doing this for thirty years!"
"And he's been doing it wrong for at least a few of them." Gabriel crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not here to smile and nod while someone ruins my cheese with bad pairings. That's not the job."
"The job is to be professional."
"I was professional. I was also correct."
Marnie exhaled sharply through her nose. "You can't just, this is a collaboration. You don't get to make unilateral decisions."
"And you don't get to let someone mess up a pairing because you're too polite to say anything."
They stared at each other.
Gabriel noticed, distantly, that she had very expressive eyes. And that when she was frustrated, a small crease appeared between her eyebrows.
"This is going to be a long week," she said finally.
"Yeah," Gabriel agreed. "It is."
She turned and walked toward the bus, her blazer still perfectly straight despite the chaos of the day.
Gabriel watched her go and felt something uncomfortably close to admiration.
She was stubborn. Infuriating.
And she cared. Really cared. About the wine, the presentation, getting it right.
He respected that.
Even if she drove him up the wall.
From somewhere near the front of the bus, Kayla's voice called out: "Great job, everyone! Next stop, Ottawa!"
Gabriel grabbed his cheese crate and climbed aboard.
This was definitely going to be a long week.