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Piazza Bella - Aperitivo: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII
Piazza Bella - Antipasto: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X
Piazza Bella - Primi: Prologue | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII
“Is this seat taken?”
“No.”
“May I sit with you, please, Carla?”
“Of course.”
A man I had never met before who knew my name sat beside me, raising every red flag I had. My defenses were up.
When he caught their eye, his infectious smile made every girl on the coach grin back, married or not. He flirted with piercing blue eyes that sparkled and spoke to an inner mischief I wanted nothing to do with.
The coach set off quickly and without warning, jerking everyone around in their seats. My stranger bounced closer to me, rubbing thighs. I smiled politely and glanced down, so he moved back, looking apologetic.
He set a case of wine on the floor between our feet, a ploy to start our conversation.
Okay… I’ll play.
“A wooden case means you value the wine.”
“Or maybe I am polishing something cheap and selling for more than it is worth. Many vineyard owners do that.”
“You wouldn’t say that if it were true about your wine.”
“Wouldn’t I? Perhaps I am goading you into a discussion about my wine.”