I look over at him. “I didn’t have you pegged for a wine guy.� He stares at me. “What?� His tipsy-squinting eyes narrow further. “Can’t tell if you’re kidding.� “No?� I say. “I work at a winery, Daphne,� he says. “Since when?� I say, disbelieving. “For the last seven years,� he says. “What did you think I did?� “I don’t know,� I say. “I thought you were a delivery guy.� “Why?� He shakes his head. “Based on what?� “I don’t know!� I say. “Can I just have some wine?�
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