He smiled. “I never did get those little bitty wine glasses. Was it supposed to make you feel like you were drinking more if you kept having to refill the glass?”
“I think it was to make the bottle seem fuller. More pours feel like you’re getting more.”
“I guess.”
He took a drink of wine and turned, looking around. "I probably won't find a buyer until I finish the remodeling."
“Remodeling? What’s wrong with it?”
He waved his hand, the corkscrew gleaming off the pendant lights over the island. “The real estate agent says I need to update the paint and floors.”
I looked down. “They’re carpet. New looking.”
“Everyone wants hardwood.” He shrugged. “One of those ‘dress to impress’ things.”
“Sounds like a pain to make it look good for someone else to enjoy.”
“That’s just what the market is. While home reno shows are popular, no one actually wants to have to do all the work. They want perfect houses.”
Winter nodded. “You’re not wrong. Work is foreign to some people.”
“I would imagine you know. As a business owner."
I couldn't help smiling at that one. "I have had a few lazy employees over the years."
"Haven't we all?" He took a drink of his wine. "Good stuff."
"Thanks."
"How are you the manager for your mother's salon, anyway?"
"She needed someone responsible but allowed her to continue to do what she loved."
"And why was that you?"
"Because I'm damn good at it."
He smiled. "I'm sure you are." He paused. An awkward silence stretched between us.
Like maybe he was going to ask more, but he stopped.
His gaze darted around the kitchen. "I was about to put the steaks on, did you want to come out?”
Not really, I thought. I took another sip of the wine, and it seemed to fill me with a little liquid courage.
Maybe warming me on the inside a bit? Maybe?
“I’m not much for cold,” I said.
“With a name like ‘Winter’, I would think—”
I rolled my eyes. “You and everyone else.”
He smiled. “I can’t say anything. My last name is ‘Delafrost.’”
“Like ‘Jack Frost,’” I grinned at him.
Maybe the wine was working.
