Never in his entire life did he think he’d find himself seated in a fine dining restaurant, in the middle of a blind date, sipping wine. He never liked wine, never liked the lingering bitterness that’d be stuck at the back of his throat, but somehow he finds himself tolerating it — the pretty face before him made it manageable, per se.

He clears his throat, mustering a forced smile. It comes out a bit more forced than intended and he finds that the expression on your face doesn’t seem to waver.

“I’m a businessman.” He tells you. It wasn’t entirely a lie, he was a businessman after all. He owned Dawn Winery, and it wasn’t as if saying he was a mafia head would add any relevance to the conversation — at least on his part for now, ruining the date wasn’t on his list. “I own a wine business that my father used to manage. What about you?”