checked, I’ve aced all taste tests and regions pop quizzes with the exception of today. When Claudia calls me late because she works nights at the restaurant, I comply. Martin, when you lost your regions map that outlined the history of wine, who did you call?”
“You,” he quietly agreed.
“Right. So, Martin, you can kiss the darkest part of my ass, which, I’ll have you know is in the southern region where the sun don’t shine.” I grabbed my bottles of wine and packed them in my roller bag.
“Wait!” Martin called, as I prepared to leave the study group in divalike fashion. As far as I was concerned, everyone here could kick rocks.
Well, except for Eduardo, who stuck up for me. Plus, he’s hot.
“Why?” I asked Martin as I stretched the handle to pull the bag behind me.
“I was wrong. We should’ve asked what was going on. This journey is hard and lonely. My girl just broke up with me last month because she said I love wine more than her.”
Claudia chuckled. “You kind of do.”
“Shut up.” Martin smiled, not at all denying the accusation. “Anyway, I was wrong. And you’re right, I’m stressed, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Claudia added, as she tucked a purple-streaked strand behind her ear.
I’d heard my mentor Roddy scream many times for Claudia to dye her hair a respectable color if she expected to work at a five-star restaurant. Claudia sighed and continued. “This is my third time around, too, and I broke up with my girlfriend last year because of this damn test.”
“I didn’t realize you’re a lesbian.” Martin scrunched his brows. I could get the confusion. They’d been flirting nonstop, even when Martin had a girlfriend.
“Bi,” she said, giving him a saucy smile.
“Forgive us?” Eduardo, asked sliding his hand over his buzz-cut hair.
“Sure.” I moved my bag back into the corner. Instead of us going back to studying, we swapped war stories about how our poor significant others had to deal with our craziness.
“My girlfriend’s little girl sniffed everything. She would set up her juice boxes, swirl, and spit the juice in a bowl. It drove Jenny crazy. And everything tasted like apple or grape juice.” Claudia snickered.
“My ex’s friends used to call me Rain Man,” Martin confessed.
We all laughed. Martin had the tendency to recall wine in a robotic and matter-of-fact voice.
The night went on with more ribbing. It felt good to laugh deep from my belly, gut-splitting laughter. I’d relegated the group to business only, but now I realized I’d missed out on friendship.
My eyes caught the time on Martin’s oven. “I can’t believe its two o’clock in the morning. I need to get home.”
“Me too.” Eduardo looked down at his watch. “Let’s walk out together. We’ve got a long trek back to our cars.”
Martin lived in an apartment in Midtown with zero parking, so we had to park on the side streets nearly a block away. I didn’t want to walk alone in the city at night. It was a relief to leave with him.
We gathered our bags and bottles. “Bye, Claudia. Bye, Martin.” I waved and walked out the door.
“Tonight was fun, huh?” Eduardo slowed his long-limbed pace to match mine.
“It actually was.” I heard the surprise in my voice. “I didn’t realize how—”
“Cool, awesome, and amazing we are?” he supplied.
“Yeah. I guess I was so caught up in my personal drama, and focused on passing the test, I forgot how to make friends—well, outside of my girlfriends.”
“Oh, yeah. Is that the one you went to the cigar bar with the other weekend?”
I stopped my steps. How in the heck did he know about that?
“I follow you on social media. You posted the quintessential smoke ring picture online.”
“Oh, I . . .” I cleared my throat. “Didn’t realize you followed me.” I resumed walking, picking up my pace.
He laughed and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m following you, not stalking you.”
“Oh, well, yeah I knew that.” I laughed, too, as we neared our cars. “And shut up.” I nudged his shoulder. “I’m just not used to whatever this is that I’m doing.”
“Being single again?”
“Not quite single and not quite divorced. We’re separated.”
“Damn, I’m sorry about that, Kara.” Eduardo’s chocolate eyes reflected sincerity. “Any chance for reconciliation?”
“Kind of hard to reconcile when you don’t speak.” I shrugged.
“That’s tough.”
“Yeah.” My voice shook. “We were nearing our seven-year anniversary. Didn’t even get to the itchy part.” I leaned against my car, swiping at an errant tear.