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He introduced himself to you as Hank Voight. You and your colleagues on the other hand called him RV, which was an acronym for Raspy Voice.
Yeah, very original, it made you cringe as well, but referring to him as A Very Hot Daddy Material Looking Man Who You Bet Would Look Very Hot Naked (or the shorter version: AVHDMLMWYBWLVHN) just didn’t go well.
RV was convenient and easy to say.
Hank Voight was fairly predictable when it came to his choices. He always bought either a scotch or a whiskey and sometimes he’d settle for a nice bourbon. Once you sold him a cognac, though he wasn’t too much of a fan of that.
However, you appreciated his efforts of branching out.
Because of these course of events, Hank Voight a.k.a. RV could also be nicknamed as Mister Predictable. So you were awfully surprised when a stunning request left his lips.
‘Wine?’ you ask, visibly in shock. ‘You want a bottle of wine?’
‘Yes,’ he says, his voice so low and deep, you almost felt the vibrations of it in your chest.
Great, this is either for the woman he is in a serious and doting relationship with of for a date of his.
You had been dreaming a little bit about Hank Voight, but all of your colleagues did. They swoon over his voice and while that attributed to his attractiveness, you felt yourself falling for his intense gaze, the way he looked at your fingers as you packed the bottle for him. The way he helped you when you needed to grab something of the top shelf and how he smelled like cologne, but not the same type everyone was already wearing.
You fell for the little inside jokes you shared and the pretty flirtatious comments exchanged between the two of you. You were the one who helped him out most of the times and he always trusted your expertise.
And now you were going to find a wine for a probable other woman. Someone who isn’t yours.
‘What type of wine?’ you ask.
He shrugs. ‘I have no idea.’
That is truly not helping, but you decided to settle for an easier question. ‘Okay, red or white?’
He shrugs again.
This wasn’t going anywhere. ‘Want something like Pinot, Chardonnay, Merlot or Port?’
Another shrug.
You glare at him. ‘Hank, this isn’t helping,’ you say. ‘How am I supposed to help you out if you don’t even have the slightest clue of what you want?’
‘It’s hard,’ he says, ‘shopping for a wine for someone else. What’s your favorite?’
‘Why do you wanna know?’
‘Well, I bet you have a favorite and I always trust your taste. If you like it, she’ll like it, I just know it.’
She. The dreaded mystery person is unveiled. There were two things you could do: recommend the most disgusting wine ever, so this mystery woman will puke and vomit, therefore not be to fond of the giver of said wine that made her sick or you’d recommend your favorite and there was a chance she’d love it and therefore love him.
You hate the fact you were polite.
You want nothing but the best for Hank, so you decide to just get over yourself and recommend him your favorite wine. As you explain to him the type of red wine, together with what you should eat with it, he listens intently.
You gift wrap it for him and hand it to him. ‘You got a card?’ he asks. ‘And a pen?’You give it to him and he starts to write.
Lucky lady who’ll be on the receiving end of it. He’s truly pouring his heart out, by the amounts of sentences you see. You decide to look away, not wanting to become too nosy.
He hands you back the pen and the card. ‘Here,’ he says.
You blink. ‘What?’
‘Read it.’
With a deep frown you take the card. You had to proofread too? Geez, this lady better be worth it. Your eyes scan the handwriting.
Dear Y/N,
Every time I come here, I’m hoping you’re behind the counter. You have the patience of a saint, with the way you try to venture out my tastes when it comes to alcohol. You always make my day, no matter how lousy it was, so much better.
I hope you enjoy this gift and maybe would go out with me.
Yours,
Hank
Thank the heavens for you being polite. Imagine being on the receiving end of disgusting wine, having Hank believe that is your favorite and then having to either lie forever or to come clean and have him discover you wanted to jeopardize a non existent date with someone else.
‘Really?’ you ask him, a bright smile on your face. ‘Is this for real?’
He nods. ‘This is for real.’
┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ 🍷