Dear Diary - The Bottle

October 1^st, 2013

Dear Diary,

The strangest thing just happened. I was outbid for the Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino '78 that I really, really wanted. It was the one wine that I went there to buy. But this is the crazy part. This guy, David, bought it, and then gave it to me, no strings attached! Crazy huh? Even more crazy, he said he didn't drink, or know anything about, wine. I can't figure out why a guy would spend that much money, $575, on a bottle of wine, when he doesn't even drink it.

He was so nice and, my God, was he good looking. I have a date with him later tonight. We're going to this Italian place he knows and share the bottle. I don't know which I'm more excited about... getting to drink the Giacomo or having dinner with the guy that gave it to me.

This was a complete estate liquidation, so I had to wait through knick-knacks, household items, and tools before the wines came up. After the wines were the furnishings, cars, then lastly, the home. I'd arrived early. I didn't care about the other stuff, but I didn't want to miss the wine auction. After that I'd leave because I had a car and a completely furnished house already.

I sat in the auction tent, watching the sales of dishes, bed linens, power tools, and other assorted junk, bored out of my skull. I was all but dozing by the time the first bottle came up, and nearly missed it. It was a rather bland French white and I bid ten dollars. It got the bidding started but I didn't bother bidding again, and it finally sold for twenty-five, which was about ten bucks more than it was worth in my opinion. A nice Italian red was next up, and I stole it for thirty.

The deceased's cellar was an eclectic mix, outstanding wines intermingled with good, mediocre, and poor. It was obvious the auctioneers had no idea what they were selling because they didn't start with the poor wines and work their way up to the better, so I had to pay attention to each item that came up.

Another decent wine came up, a well-respected French rosé, and I raised my paddle to bid twenty dollars. I finally had to let that one go at eighty because that was more than it was worth. Most of the bottles were singles, though I did win an entire case of Marques de Riscal Gran Reserva '06, a very nice Spanish red, for the bargain price of twenty dollars a bottle.

I sat through the rest of the wines, winning most of the ones I wanted, though not all. It was hard to not get into spirit of the bidding and over pay, but I was husbanding my resources for the Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino, '78, that was coming up. If I won nothing else, I wanted that one. The problem for me was there were a couple of other people in the audience that, based on their bidding, knew their wines as well.

The auctioneers weren't completely stupid, and the Giacomo, was the last bottle up. The bidding started at one hundred sixty dollars, and I raised my paddle. The bidding rose quickly to three hundred where several of the bidders began dropping out. I accepted the bid for three seventy-five. I thought I had it, and for a good price too, when a man across the tent bid four hundred dollars.

I ground my teeth and raised my paddle for four twenty-five. There was another long pause, the auctioneer exhorting the man on, and he bid four seventy-five. He'd upped the bid fifty dollars and was obviously trying to push me out. I wanted the bottle, I wanted it badly, but four seventy-five was all the bottle was worth.

I had to think long and hard about it, but I finally raised my paddle. Five hundred was as high as I would go. I could afford to pay more, but as much as I wanted to try one of the finest wines ever produced, I wasn't willing to be a sucker for it.

I thought I had it. The man waiting until the second count before bidding five hundred and five. He was about out, raising my bid only five bucks. The auctioneer wanted five ten. It was stupid, and the bottle wasn't worth it, but I'd risk another ten for it, and raised my paddle.

Again, I thought I had it, my heart thudding hard in my chest, but like the last time, at the last moment, the other bidder topped me, pushing the price to five fifteen. The auctioneer looked at me, but I shook my head as my shoulders slumped.

"The 1978 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino... going once... going twice..."

"Five twenty-five!" a man's voice called from behind me.

"New bidder!" the auctioneer called as I turned in my chair to see who had stepped in at the last moment, but I couldn't pick out the bidder.

I looked at the man who had been bidding against me and derived some pleasure from the fact he looked quite peeved.

The auctioneer didn't even bother with his cadence, looking to the man that had been bidding against me. "The bid is five hundred twenty-five. To you sir."

"Five hundred thirty."

The auctioneer looked farther back in the room and I turned, wanting to see who was bidding.

"The bid is five hundred thirty, sir."

A man five rows back and on the other side of the center aisle looked directly as me and smiled. "Five fifty."

I looked back to the other bidder, waiting and watching as the little drama unfolded. Now the other man looked distinctly annoyed. It was childish of me, but seeing him squirm made me smile.

"To you, sir," the auctioneer said.

"Five fifty-five."

"The bid is five fifty-five to you, sir."

I turned in my chair and again watched the man sitting behind me. He didn't even look at the auctioneer, his gaze focused on me. "Five seventy-five," he said, then smiled.

He was good looking, but he was either stupid or crazy. He was over paying by at least a hundred dollars. I turned to look at the other bidder.

"The bid is five seventy-five, sir." The man made a slashing motion with his hand. "Five seventy-five, going once... going twice... sold!" the auctioneer said as he pointed his gavel at the man sitting behind me.

That had been the last bottle, and as the auctioneer began his cadence on a complete set of bedroom furniture, I rose from my chair and began walking to the auctioneer's table to pay and collect my winnings. I watched the man who won the Giacomo approach and I paused, allowing him to catch up to me.

"That's a lovely wine you purchased. I've always wanted to try it."

The man smiled down at me. He was tall and well built, with a handsome face and winning smile. "I'll take your word for it. I'm not much of a wine drinker."

I was so shocked by his comment that I stopped, the man stepping past me before he realized it, then turned and stepped back. "You just bought a five hundred seventy-five dollar bottle of wine, and you don't drink wine?"

He smiled, took my arm and started me walking again. "Yeah. Crazy, I know."

I laughed in surprise and delight, wondering if he was teasing me. We coasted to a stop at end the line waiting to pay. "Well, I guess if you are going to start drinking wine, you might as well start with the good stuff."

There were two women and a man accepting payments, with six more men scurrying around, helping the bidders with their purchases, so the line moved quickly. I paid for my items, handing over my paddle with my number on it. As the woman counted my cash, one of the men sat three cardboard boxes on the table with my twenty-eight bottles of wine neatly arranged inside. I quickly checked them over to make sure they were the bottles I bought.

"Can I help you with those?"

I smiled at the man as he held his single bottle. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"It would be my pleasure."

I was going to take one, but he slid his own bottle down into one of the empty slots, stacked the three boxes, and picked them up.

"I can take one," I offered.

"That's okay. I've got it. Lead on," he said, peeking around the top case with a grin.

I led the man out of the tent and through the jumble of parked cars, walking quickly. The cases had to be heavy, probably close to a hundred pounds, and I didn't want him to drop them, or have him hurt himself if he was trying to impress me.

"I'm David, by the way. David Conley. Most people call me DC. I'd offer to shake your hand but..." He lifted the three boxes slightly as he shrugged.

I grinned. "Lillian. Nice to meet you, David. Thank you for carrying those. I would've had to make three trips."

"Glad I could help."

I popped the trunk on my silver Audi A5 and raised the lid. He carefully sat the three boxes in the trunk then stepped back. Before I closed the lid, I snagged his bottle from the case and held it out to him.

"You don't want to forget this."

"I'd like you to have it."

"What? No! I can't accept this!" I protested, still holding the bottle out to him.

"Please," he replied, making no move to take the bottle. "I insist."

"No, really. It's very generous of you, um... I'm sorry, what's your name again?" I asked as I cringed inside.

He smiled, apparently unoffended. "David."

"It's very generous of you, David, but, I can't."

He still made no move to take the bottle. I looked at it, rubbing my thumb across the label, wishing I could accept his gift, but this wasn't a five-buck bottle of wine we were talking about.

"You can. I'd like it if you would."

I wanted the bottle, but I wasn't going to let him buy me. "And what do you want in return?" I asked, using my courtroom voice, the voice that said I wasn't to be trifled with.

"Nothing."

My eyes narrowed and I looked at him. I was born, but I wasn't born yesterday. "You're going to give me a bottle of wine you just paid nearly six hundred dollars for... with no strings attached?"

"If you'll take it."

I stared at him, wondering what his game was. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted you to win it. I want you to have it."

I was quiet as I watched his face. I was good at reading people, it came with the job, and you had to be an accomplished liar for me to not be able to tell. He was either a very good liar or he was telling the truth.

"You know you paid too much for it, don't you?" I asked with sideways grin.

He shrugged.

I wanted the bottle. I wanted it badly, but this was a sticky situation. Nobody was going to give a six-hundred-dollar bottle to wine to a total stranger, not without wanting something in return. I continued to watch his face, looking for a lie or a hidden agenda, but I couldn't detect anything but interest and honesty in his eyes.

"No strings attached?" I asked.

"None whatsoever," he said, then smiled.

He seemed innocent enough, and I knew there were plenty of crazies out there that did all kinds of strange things for no obvious reason, so maybe he was one of those. I hadn't given him anything but my first name, and unless he was a cop, or worked for the DMV, seeing the plate on my car would do him little good. I extended my hand.

"Then, I accept. Thank you so much, David. This is incredibly generous of you. Would you at least let me pay you the five ten that I bid for the bottle?"

"I didn't buy it to sell to you, Lillian. I bought it to give to you. So, no. Thank you for the offer, but no."

I opened the trunk, put the bottle into the box with the others, then shut the lid.

"You're sure?"

"Very sure," he replied with another smile.

"Well... okay then. Thank you for carrying my wine, and thank you so very much for the Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino." I wanted to hug him for the gift, but the situation was just too awkward and strange. "You're a very generous man. Crazy, but generous," I added, and then giggled in excitement and nervousness.

His smile widened. "I've been called worse."

He stepped to the driver's door and opened it for me. I slid in and smiled at him as he shut the door. I started the car then rolled my window down.

"Thank you again, David. You're sure about this? Last chance to change your mind."

"Enjoy the wine," he said as he stepped back from the car.

I backed out of my parking spot, then watched him in the rearview as I inched out of the yard where I'd parked. I turned into the drive and then, after checking for traffic, pulled out into the road. I was still smiling as I accelerated away.

I'd scored the one bottle of wine I came for, and I didn't even have to pay for it! As I drove down the street, I wondered about the incredibly generous man that had given it to me. Why would he do that? And with no strings attached? Because he knew I wanted it and he wanted me to have it? I began to tear up. Why would a perfect stranger be so nice to me?

I braked to a stop at the intersection. There was no cross traffic, but I sat for a long moment, staring into nothing. If David was a stalker, he wasn't a very good one. He hadn't asked for my last name, a date, to share the bottle, nothing. He'd just given me the bottle and let me drive away.

I needed to turn left, but on impulse, I clicked on the right turn signal and made a right to circle the block. I returned to the auction, parked in the same spot I'd just vacated, and then walked to the tent where the auctioneer was accepting bids that were going up in increments of ten thousand.

At the front of the tent was some sort of Chrysler product from the seventies and the price was going up fast. I pushed my sunglasses up and parked them on the top of my head as I scanned the tent. I was looking at the back of the people, but I saw what I thought was David's head, in the same place he'd been before, sitting beside another man as they watched the bidding. There were plenty of open chairs in the row behind them and I took the one directly behind the man I believed was David.

"Sold!" the auctioneer called a moment before someone started the car and drove it away as another car was driven into its place.

The second man tapped David on the arm and furtively pointed at a car that was just being driven into the tent. There were three cars in front of it before the one he was interested in hit the auction block.

"There it is," the other man said.

David nodded. "Good luck."

I smiled, recognizing his voice. I leaned in close to his ear.

"The thing about wine," I purred, causing him to jump and then turn in his seat, "is it should be shared."

His quick reaction caused the man sitting next to him to turn as well, wanting to see what made his friend start.

"You scared the shit out of me!" David said with a grin, "Lillian, Rich Welborne. Rich, meet Lillian."

I reached between them to shake Rich's hand as the auctioneer accepted bids on the car.

"Nice to meet you, Rich. Is he always like this?"

"What? Giving away expensive gifts to strangers?" Rich asked, then grinned a David. "Yeah. Don't get too excited over that bottle of wine. Yesterday he gave his car to a little old lady walking along the side of the road."

I laughed as David snickered.

"You mean I'm not special? I'm disappointed."

"Rich, would you excuse us?" David asked, rising and holding out his hand to me just as the gavel banged down on the car.

He took my hand and led me out of the auction tent.

"You came back. Why?"

I shrugged. "I couldn't believe you let me drive off with that bottle of wine."

"I told you. No strings attached."

"But you were hoping?"

"Well," he began with a slow smile, "you can't blame me for hoping, can you?"

"How do you know I'm not married?"

"You're not wearing a ring, but it doesn't matter. It was no strings, remember?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, unsure of what to do. "I can't figure you out."

David laughed. "Let's start with what you said. 'Wine should be shared.' The Gaca..." He attempted to say the name of the wine but mangled it so badly he stopped before he got through it.

"Giacomo Conterno Barolo Monfortino," I said with a smile, pursing my lips so I wouldn't laugh at his attempt.

"Yeah, that. It sounds Italian. Is it?"

"Yes. A very rich Italian red."

He shuffled a bit, as if he were nervous.

"Would you like to share that bottle over dinner? I know a place that serves fantastic Italian food."

Up until then he had been sure and confident, and I found his sudden nervousness endearing.

"They'll let you bring in your own wine?"

"Marco will for me."

I thought about it. David was certainly handsome. He was taller than average, towering over my own five three by nearly a foot. He was obviously strong, having handled the three cases of wine with ease. He had broad shoulders, narrow hips, and he carried himself with an easy power and grace. He was about my age, perhaps forty, with dark hair worn a little on the long side, and had the most beautiful, large, brown eyes. He had a strong, angular face that wouldn't look out of place staring out of magazine, but when he smiled, his entire face lit up. It'd be nice to have some companionship to share the wine, male companionship, and David was a good prospect.

"I'd like that. When?"

"Tonight? I'll pick you up about seven."

"Kind of short notice, isn't it?"

"If tonight isn't good, we can pick another time. That bottle is nearly forty years old. Another few days isn't going to matter."

I smiled. He was right, but I had no plans.

"No, I suppose it won't. Tonight's good. How should I dress?"

"However you like. There's no dress code, and you'll see everything from coat and tie to jeans and t-shirt. Marco is more concerned about the food than the decor."

"You know the owner?"

"I do. He is actually a friend of Rich and his wife, but I hang out with them enough that he knows me."

I looked him over, imagining him in a suit. "Will you wear a coat and tie?"

"If you'd like."

"Let's dress up. I haven't had a man dress up and take me somewhere nice in a long time."

"Coat and tie it is, then." He pulled out his wallet, removed a business card, and handed it to me. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"You have another one of those?"

He pulled out another card and held it out. I dug a pen out of my purse and then took the card. I flipped it over and wrote my name, number, and address on the back. Finished, I handed it back to him. I hadn't been on date in months, and I was nearly thrumming in excitement.

"I'll see you in about six hours," I said, then broke into a grin, liking how that sounded.

"I'll see you then."

I smiled, nodded, and then turned and walked away. I didn't look back, but I hoped he was watching as I added just a bit of sway to my walk. I couldn't stop smiling, thinking about how handsome David would look wearing a suit, and then, as I plopped into my car, I wondered how he'd look wearing nothing at all.

October 1^st, 2013

Dear Diary,

Tonight was awesome! The food was fantastic, the wine was excellent, but best of all was the company. David was just amazing. I can't remember having such a good time at dinner.

I'm slightly tipsy. I need to go to bed because I think I embarrassed myself. Fortunately, David's a gentleman. What the fuck is wrong with me? A few drinks and I get stupid. I hope I didn't put him off. Nothing I can do about it now if I did, but I wonder if he thinks I'm some kind of slut. Maybe I should call or text him?

Fuck it! I'm going to bed.

I was dressed and ready to go, only needing to put the finishing touches on my hair. I'd begun chilling the wine as soon as I got it home, then pulled it out of the refrigerator to allow it to slowly warm. By the time we got to the restaurant, it should be the perfect temperature... around sixty degrees.

I finished twisting and pinning up my auburn hair. With my pins held between my lips, I checked my hair, looking for loose strands or messy braiding. If David was going to wear a coat and tie, I was going to go all out to impress. I was like a little girl playing dress up, and it felt good.