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The smell got stronger with each step she took down the stairs. Angelina found Jake in the living room playing with the radio.
“Here,” she offered. “It is satellite radio.”
Setting it to a variety station, she handed the remote back to Jake.
“Sorry about the Cheez Whiz,” he whispered.
“I will buy another one and hide it. My dad should be coming back through before long. He loves the stuff. I try to get some when I know he is coming.”
“Where is he?”
“Not sure,” Angelina admitted with a laugh. “He bought a motor home when he retired from the Army. Dad loves to travel. He says he wants to see everything.”
“Who keeps that kind of money shoved sideways in the wine fridge?”
Jake looked at Angelina, and she shrugged.
“We better go see what he found.”
Walking into the kitchen, they found Max with his mouth open, staring at the bottle he held like a newborn in his hands.
“You did this,” he accused.
“Oh, that,” Angelina nodded. “I got it as a gift from one of my clients. I don’t drink wine often, so I stuck it in the fridge. I figured someone would want it, or I could regift it.”
“Regift,” Max muttered. “Do you know how much this bottle is?”
“Enough for me to keep the jar of Cheez Whiz?”
“Fuck that chemical shitstorm masquerading as cheese. This is an eight thousand dollar bottle of wine.”
“I can buy a lot of cheese with eight grand,” Angelina laughed.
Jake bit back a laugh as horror etched its way across Max’s face.
“We can have it with dinner if you want, or you can take it home with you as long as you never say another word about the cheese in a jar.”
Max’s mouth moved, but no words came out. Jake laughed at his man’s reaction. He had never seen Max speechless.
“Sweetness, you have accomplished something I have never been able to do. My lover is speechless. He is going to let you keep whatever you want.”
“Was that we need glasses, or you’re guarding that bottle with your life?”
“Glasses,” Max managed to get out as he gently placed the bottle on the counter.
Jake sat on a stool and watched as Max opened the bottle. Angelina got plates and silverware.
“You know what we should do?”
“What’s that?”
“We should take pictures of us having dinner to put on social media,” Angelina told them.
“Great idea. Tag you, tag me, and we are done.”
Max handed a glass to each of them. Angelina took a sip. The overwhelmingly awful taste made her want to spit it out, but the look on Max’s face made her swallow.
“Yummy,” she grimaced.
