“Six wineries, a fancy lunch, two nights in a four-star hotel.
Am. So. There.” Nicole tossed her long locks out of her face as she glanced up
from the glossy brochure in her hands.
“I brought my wine bag.” Rozella tugged the empty wine pouch, folded into a little square, from the tote bag at her feet.
“That only holds six bottles.” Nicole frowned as she eyed the six divided compartments. “I’ll have to get my own.”
“They’re bound to have one at one of these places.”
“Guess we’ll find out tomorrow. We spend a night in a hotel first and tomorrow, the wineries. It’s a five-hour drive to get there. I still can’t believe two hundred apiece covered the fancy hotel, winery fees, and transportation.”
“Here comes the bus now.” Rozella pointed at the red and white bus as it drew level with them where they sat on a bench at the station. “I feel like a giddy child.” She giggled and stuffed the wine bag back in her tote before tugging Nicole to her feet.
The bus door opened with a whoosh, and all the waiting women—sixteen in all—eagerly clambered forward, ready to board. Excitement crackled in the air, accompanied by the sound of women tittering, laughing, or saying goodbye to by standing husbands or sons.
Rozella’s view was hindered by the large straw hat of an old lady who pushed in front of her. She swallowed her irritation and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.
“Whoa. Would you look at that fine ass piece of man candy.”
“Man candy? Where? This is ladies only.” Regardless, Rozella craned her neck, trying to see what had her friend so awed. She wanted to see this man candy too.
“Well, I could be wrong,” her friend said, fanning herself with the brochure, “but I think we have a male tour guide, and he’s hotter than the sun burning my skin right now.”
Finally, the old lady with the ridiculous hat moved forward and to the side, and Rozella saw a tall man, well-built with muscles showing from under his polo shirt, a military-like buzz cut, and penetrating brown eyes. Sure enough, the logo on his blue shirt said
Wine Tours. Napa Valley
Before she could open her mouth to agree with Nicole’s observations, the gorgeous man spoke, “Hi, ladies! I’m Blake, and I’m your tour guide for the weekend.”
A chorus of feminine hellos rang out in reply.
Blake placed his hands on his slender hips—Rozella noted the lack of a wedding band with a flutter of relief—and continued, “We’re going to go ahead and load up your bags. Kindly hand me your tickets as you get on the bus. I ask that you let the disabled and the elderly be seated first. We have a five-hour drive ahead of us and two days traveling together all over
so we’ll be getting to know each other real well.” He reached out a hand to
assist the first elderly lady in line. “Any questions at all, concerns, needs,
come talk to me. I’m very approachable.” Napa Valley
Nicole snickered next to her, and Rozella finally closed her mouth. She cleared her throat. “Well, so much for ladies only.”
“I’m extremely grateful for this interesting turn of events.” Nicole waggled her blond arched eyebrows.
Be sure to check out the other Tuesday Tales and see what my fellow writers came up with this week too: HERE