Page 92 of The Naughty or Nice Deal

I follow along with Gabriel. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’re thinking of a nice glass of wine?” Gabriel asks with exaggerated hope.

“Wine is for having with food,” Ford teases, shooting his friend an amused look. “I thought you of all people should know that basic rule.”

“Oh, come on, Gabriel’s not that French,” Hayden adds with a grin. “He’s been in America longer than France at this point in his life.”

“You two think you’re hysterical,” Gabriel shakes his head in mock despair. “It’s truly sad to witness such a complete lack of culture, especially from my two best friends. Despite all my years of hard work and effort to educate you.”

“We’re having good whiskey,” Hayden insists. “And that’s final.”

“Can it at least be Scottish whisky?” Gabriel tries to negotiate.

“Absolutely not. We’re having Tennessee whiskey, and that’s the end of it.”

All three men laugh, none of their banter actually sharp, just the comfortable teasing of friends who’ve known each other forever. It warms something deep in my chest to witness it.

“I don’t know much about alcohol,” I admit as Hayden grabs some crystal glasses from the cabinet. “I know there’s supposed to be a difference between things like black label and blue label, but I’m not sure what it actually means.”

“It’s all about aging,” Ford explains, moving to a locked cabinet. “Here, hold on—we have some really top-shelf stuff in here. Hayden, grab a few more glasses.”

My eyes go wide as Ford retrieves bottles that I’ve seen displayed on the highest shelves at upscale bars, sometimes even locked away behind glass. I’ve seen how much a single glass of this stuff costs at those places. This is wildly expensive alcohol. “You really don’t have to break out the good stuff for me.”

“Nonsense,” Gabriel says. “You deserve the very best.”

“And you should know what properly aged alcohol actually tastes like,” Hayden adds with conviction. “Don’t let her watch.”

Gabriel turns me away with a playful grin while Ford and Hayden remove caps from bottles and pour various samples into glasses for me to try.

“Okay,” Ford says when they’re finished, and both men set several glasses down in front of me. I can tell some are from different bottles—slight variations in the amber color give it away. But most look identical to my untrained eye, and I can’t distinguish which might be more expensive based on color alone. “Try them all.”

I sample each drink in turn. I have to admit that all of them go down much more smoothly than any whiskey I’ve ever had before, although whiskey isn’t typically my drink of choice. I usually stick to cocktails or simple mixed drinks.

“Take your time and really savor it,” Hayden instructs. “Let it coat your tongue, then let it glide down your throat.”

It burns sweetly as it goes down, but in a pleasant way. To my surprise, I can actually taste differences between the samples—there’s a richer, more complex layer of flavor to some of them, while others have a sharper burn. It sounds crazy to say, but some of the glasses really do taste more well-rounded and balanced.

When I share this observation out loud, Ford grins with obvious pride. “Exactly right. Which one do you think is the thirty-year?”

I frown down at the glasses, concentrating. I take a couple more small sips to refresh my memory of each one, then confidently tap one glass. “This one.”

“Excellent,” Hayden praises, and I flush with pleasure at his genuinely enthusiastic tone.

“It had the best depth of flavor,” I explain.

“That’s the key to understanding good alcohol,” Gabriel says approvingly. “Whether it’s wine or whiskey or something else entirely. Unless you’re making a mixed drink, when you’re drinking straight alcohol, it’s all about the aging process. The length of time and how it’s handled during that time.”

We finish the whiskey the men poured, sharing the samples since drinking all of it myself would definitely leave me drunk. These drinks aren’t just smoother—they’re also incredibly potent. Another benefit of quality alcohol, I suppose.

That’s the problem with so many things in life. If you want real quality, you need money to pay for it, and I haven’t been able to afford much quality in my life.

“I hope you at least know something about wine,” Gabriel teases as we settle back in the living room with our drinks, “considering how much you enjoy cooking.”

“Oh, I do know a bit about wine. I should really learn more about other types of alcohol, but they don’t typically cover that in cooking education. Wine’s the only one people really discuss in relation to food.”

“Well, feel free to ask Hayden anything you want to know,” Ford says with a gesture toward his friend. “He’s incredibly knowledgeable about spirits.”

“It feels like all three of you know so much about everything,” I observe.

“Hey now, I don’t know much about cooking,” Ford points out fairly.