Chapter 14
I showed my ID to the sommelier, who brought out a champagne bucket on a stand and filled two flutes with chilled champagne the color of pale gold.
“Here’s to our new life together.” Hyde raised his flute and waited as I scrambled to do the same. He tapped his flute against mine, and together we took a sip. It was crisp and dry.
My freshman year in high school, Granddad had taken me aside and taught me the difference between whites, reds, and rosés—“God knows Marcus never will!”—and to distinguish a good champagne from a mediocre one. This one was excellent.
“Tell me about yourself,” Hyde murmured after we’d set down our flutes. “We never got to talk about much except furniture and accessories at Georg’s.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Between making sure my GPA was high enough
