Page 53 of The Alibi Club

“Er, no,” Rick endeavored to explain. “Each year, the advertising community judges the best work for that year. And my agency won the top awards.”

“Who are the judges?” Jamie asked.

“Creative directors from other ad agencies,” Rick answered.

“So, it’s an internal thing?” Holly Kim prodded.

“No, no, no. See, ad agencies around the world come together to celebrate the best ads for that year in France. It’s a big deal.”

“Is it at the Cannes Film Festival?” Jamie asked.

“No, it’s the one before that, for advertising.” Rick gave a thin smile, as if he was desperately trying to explain calculus to a toddler. “The Cannes Advertising Festival.”

“I bought toothpaste based on an ad with a cartoon beaver. Did that win an award?” Shannon asked.

“No, our work is much more elevated than that schlock. We do brand work. It’s loftier,” Rick explained.

“Right.” Shannon slowly nodded, trying to grasp the concept. “So, hang on. You give out awards for your own ads? Like, to each other?”

Rick’s smile vanished and he gave her a withering look. “Something like that.” He buried his nose in the wine list.

The sommelier cheerfully offered, “I’m happy to recommend a bottle or answer any questions.”

Shannon started. “I’ll have a vodka soda.”

“Same,” Holly said with a raised index finger.

“Do you have any microbrews?” Kyle asked.

Jamie added, “I think I’ll have another Old Fashioned.”

The sommelier looked crestfallen and departed.

“You say you know a lot about French wines?” All eyes went to Holly, who was staring down Rick like he was the subject of a criminal interrogation.

Rick, squaring off and facing Holly, said, “I’d say I’m well-versed.”

“Best Sauterne ever produced?” Holly challenged.

“Ah, you must be speaking of the superior first-growth dessert wine grown in the southern part of Bordeaux, the Gironde region, home of the ceaselessly elegant, world-class Château d’Yquem.”

Holly raised her eyebrow. “What vintage of Châteauneuf-du-Pape is peaking right now?”

Rick answered with authority. “Domaine du Pégau. 2016.”

Holly tapped her lip. “Finest Chenin Blanc?”

“Le Montrachet Grand Cru, of course.”

“Okay.” Holly nodded curtly. “You can choose.”

“I’m glad I have the approval of someone I barely know, but thank you,” said Rick, satisfied as he disappeared into the wine list.

The sommelier was back but at a loss as no one had ordered wine yet, so she stood there fidgeting as the waitress sidled up to the table with water glasses, spilling some on herself, the table, and Kyle. “Oops, sorry. Hi, I’m Amber, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. We have a prix fixe menu tonight with choices for each course. When it comes to the main course, I recommend the Duck Two Ways. It’s Chef Pascal’s specialty and it’s fucking delicious.”

The whole table looked up at her, including wine-hunting Rick.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, language.” Amber shook her head and said, “I meant its utterly delicious. To whet your appetites, our amuse-bouche is a single seared scallop with truffle mousse and white wine reduction, and it will be out shortly.”