Page 25

“Hey, nice to meet you,” he says, and his voice makes me jump. “I ordered a bottle of red for the table.” Enzo was right; he is loud, like he’s from New York.

“Nice. TV?” Enzo asks Robby. I glance from side to side, but there are no televisions in this upscale restaurant.

“Always. I ordered the sweet red Appa likes. I wasn’t sure what Tilly would be into,” Robby answers.

Oh, my fucking God. TV—Tenuta Valenti wine…and my initials.

It occurs to me that my initials would stay the same if I married Enzo someday and took his name, which I would in a heartbeat if it meant never associating with the Vaughn name again.

I shake off the daydream and hold back the urge to facepalm. “I’ll try it,” I reply. We sit, and Appa is next to me with Enzo and Robby across from us.

“How are you liking Napa?” Appa asks me.

I spread my napkin on my lap. “It’s great. It’s so pretty here,” I answer.

“It is! Robby and I met in LA, but Napa beats it,” she replies.

“Moving out of LA was the best thing we ever did,” Robby adds.

“God, I haven’t been to LA in forever. My dad used to live there before he moved here.”

Appa’s eyes light up. “What part of LA?”

I blink a couple of times. “Oh, no idea, honestly. It was so long ago. I really didn’t visit much,” I answer. “I think north, though?”

“LA was cool, but it’s too big. Things are slower here,” Appa adds.

“So, your folks watching the littles?” Enzo asks Robby, and he nods.

“Yep, all night.”

“Oh,” Enzo chuckles and purses his lips in a straight line.

Hmm, his composure slipped for once.

“Dude, it’s because they’ll be asleep by the time we finish here and head back.”

“Sure, RJ,” Enzo smirks.

I’m not sure what’s appropriate to ask about their kids, so I keep it simple. “Does your three-month-old sleep through the night?” I ask Appa.

She swallows her wine and sets her glass on the table with a clink. “Mostly.”

“Is it hard to be away from them overnight?” I ask.

She shakes her head, and Robby laughs. “No, not now. It was when Ember was a baby, but it got easier,” Robby answers.

“Is she happy to be a sister?”

“Gosh, yes. She’s obsessed with Luca. It’s really cute,” Appa answers. “But she gets pretty nervous whenever he cries.”

Enzo’s eyes meet mine across the table. “Do you want to try?” Enzo asks, picking up the dark-glassed bottle.

“Uh, sure. Why not?” I answer. He expertly pours the red wine into my stemmed wine glass. “Am I supposed to swirl it in the glass?” I ask and laugh out of nerves. My mom’s a wine drinker and let me try sips over the years, but my palate never understood it.

“Yes, just gently. It aerates it,” Enzo answers. I hold his eye contact while I gently move my wrist to swirl the liquid in my glass. I bring the glass up to my lips and sip, coating my tongue to pick up on the undertones, but none register beyond the indulgent grape flavor. “What do you think?”

“Mm, it’s good. Sweet.”