Molly O'Keefe - Dishing It Out

Short and sweet, Marie.

“We don’t have that kind of time, Van.” She grabbed the bottle and poured, expertly, exactly four ounces of wine in each glass.

“Salute.” She tapped her glass to his and then sipped the dark red liquid. It was fantastic, mellow, dark and oaky. The kind of wine she loved. “It’s wonderful.”

“It would be even better in ten minutes,” he snapped, the sharpness of the comment belied by the tone of his voice, like he knew what she was doing. He smiled wickedly at her over the edge of his wineglass, his long fingers holding the delicate stem as he swirled the wine.

Oh my, she thought before she could stop herself.

“Let’s cut to the chase here, Van.” Marie sat back in her chair. She’d drink a glass of wonderful wine and send the pirate chef on his way. She opened her mouth to let him have it.

“You’re a coward,” Van interjected into the silence. It seemed he was bent on cutting to a different chase.

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