Free Blood Money by K. J. Janssen Page A

about alcohol in general, there is a significant difference in the overall enjoyment one gets from a quality brand. Mark remembered back to his college days, when the cheapest brand was almost always his choice. The initial bite was usually unpleasant, but by the time the bottom of the bottle was reached, he didn’t much care. The moment of truth came the following morning. The hangover that he always got from the cheap booze was really severe, but he took it in stride in those days. In fact, it was sort of a badge of honor to wear for about ten to twelve hours. Mark was a good scout and earned a sash full of such “merit” badges.
    The Chianti that Susan preferred was top of the line. Mark filled their glasses and carried them into the living room. He placed them on the sterling silver coasters that someone gave Cynthia and Mark when they announced their engagement. When they split up, he asked her if she wanted them and her reply was, “Whatever for?” They were too nice to throw out, and he certainly wasn’t going through the embarrassment of returning them, so he kept them for a special occasion; tonight qualified. When Sue came back he gave her a quick tour of his house and the computer room so she could check out his computer equipment. Everything looked to be in order. After the tour, they returned to the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, the food will be ready in about twenty minutes.”
    â€œIt sure does smell good. When did you have time to learn to cook, Mark?”
    â€œOver the years, I watched my mother. She spent a lot of time cooking. It was one of the few times I could be alone with her and just shoot the breeze about my day at school and other stuff. She was a teacher, so she always had interesting stories to tell me about her day. Whenever she was cooking, I asked a lot of questions about the spices and cookware. I never forgot any of it. In fact, the lasagna we’re having tonight was one of her favorite recipes.”
    â€œThat’s cool. I like a man with a little domestic flair. I’m glad we’ll have a few minutes to unwind. You wouldn’t believe how heavy the traffic was on the way down here. How was it Saturday when you came back from Mansfield?”
    â€œIt was quite heavy, especially for a weekend afternoon. Americans have a love affair with their cars; Ohioans are no exception. I guess that will never change.” He handed her a glass of wine and raised his for a toast, “Here’s to the successful completion of our project.” He wanted to toast “old times,” but thought that it might be inappropriate to do so.
    â€œI’ll certainly drink to that.” She took a sip, smiled and said, “You even remembered the brand I like. That was so sweet of you.”
    â€œSue, you never cease to amaze me. You have such a discriminating taste in wine. You should have been a wine taster instead of a computer whiz. Can you imagine having a cool job like that?”
    â€œWell, truth be known, they spit out more than they actually drink. It’s a pallet/tongue/breath kind of thing that doesn’t include much swallowing. It’s a very mechanical process. That’s why they can just cleanse their pallet and go on to the next test glass. I think I’ll stick to what I’m doing.” She smiled again and started looking around the room. “This room is so tastefully decorated. Is any of this your touch?”
    â€œGosh, no. Everything is the way my mother and father decorated it. It felt so comfortable that I didn’t want to make any changes. I guess that makes me a bit of a sentimentalist,” he said apologetically.
    â€œDon’t say it that way. That’s something you should be very proud of.”
    â€œIf you say so. I guess that’s my feminine side showing.”
    â€œWell, I like it. I noticed some trophies in your father’s den. Was he an athlete?”
    â€œMy