“This is from Ariel?” he asked, whirling the ruby liquid in his glass to see its legs.
“Yes, I have a cousin who has a small vineyard in New Tuscany. He’s an Internist, and spends his weekends tending his vines and working in the clinic he established near a blackout zone. The soil is perfect, just the right touch of magnesium, sunlight, and dirt cheap labor . . . and he gives me a family discount.”
“How fortunate for you,” Simon agreed.
-- Unfinished Business -- Chapter Twenty Five by ScrewtheAlliance