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talk?”
    Ignoring my question, Marco walked into the kitchen and headed in the direction of a large wine refrigerator. After reaching it, he turned and looked at me.
    “Red or white?”
    Still slightly buzzed from the cocktails I’d had earlier, I hesitated for a second or two. The look on his face suggested I didn’t have an option.
    “Um, red,” I replied at last.
    Marco nodded, opened the door and reached inside. A few seconds later he gathered up wine glasses and a bottle opener.
    “Join me,” he said, gesturing with his chin for me to walk towards the kitchen.
    After walking inside, I placed my clutch on the kitchen counter. The sound of wine gurgling in the glass caused me to look in his direction. Marco pinched the stem of the wine glass between his thumb and forefinger, extending it to me. Taking the glass from him, I lifted it towards my nose and inhaled. It was magnificent. I’d never smelled anything like it.
    “What should we toast to, Dani?” Marco asked, breaking my concentration on the full bodied aroma wafting from the crystal.
    Marco stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter in a casual pose. His glass remained on the counter while he looked in my direction, waiting for me to reply.
    I shrugged. My mind went blank.
    “How about…” he began, squinting in concentration. “To trust?”
    Trust?
    There had to be some meaning to it, but in the moment I had no idea what it could be. Marco didn’t give me much time to think. Instead, he picked up his glass and gestured for me to do the same. We cheered, and I took a sip.
    The liquid rolled across my tongue, coating the inside of my mouth with a smooth feel and a heavy oak flavor. The taste confirmed what the aroma hinted at – it was spectacular – unlike anything I'd ever had in my life.
    “Mmm, delicious,” I said. “It’s amazing.”
    “It should be,” Marco replied. “It’s from my father's private collection, a ‘51 Penfolds Shiraz. One of only twenty in the world. Well, nineteen now.”
    I swallowed hard.
    “Oh my God,” I gasped, horrified at the possible price. “How much…”
    Marco swirled the wine in his glass before lifting it to his mouth and tossing it back in one gulp.
    “Not sure, actually. Somewhere in the range of thirty thousand a bottle, give or take.”
    My hand trembled. Growing up like I did in Pennsylvania, it wasn’t uncommon for people to buy homes for not much more. Every time I thought I’d adjusted to the extremes of wealth, moments like this happened and I realized it was something I’d probably never get used to. I wouldn’t say I felt guilty for drinking it, but knowing how much it cost definitely changed my state of mind.
    It didn’t go unnoticed by Marco.
    “What’s the matter, Dani? You’re not enjoying the wine?”
    I shook my head. “No, it’s not that I didn’t enjoy it. It’s just that…”
    “What?” Marco asked, cutting me off and filling his own glass again at the same time.
    “Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head. “It’s nothing. It's delicious, Marco. Thank you.”
    Marco nodded and raised the glass to his mouth again. After a drink, he placed the glass on the counter with a clink and looked at me.
    “Wine is meant to be drunk, Dani. Eventually, say in another five years or so, it will begin to lose all of its character and body. Right now, it’s at its peak, offering you and me something that’s close to natural perfection and almost priceless.”
    While he spoke, I took another sip.
    “You seem tense, Dani.”
    Tense was an understatement.
    I’d spent an entire evening with him, feeling things I shouldn’t have and wanting things that, well… And then, to come back here only to discover the drama with Serena. All the while my entire future with the firm hinged on whether or not I could get him to sign the deal.
    No? Tense? Why would I be tense?
    I shook my head before the lie sputtered from my lips. “I’m fine. Really.”
    Marco studied me while I