Working on your birthday absolutely sucked. Miranda hadn’t minded teaching at the studio today, which hardly counted as work because it was something she loved to do, but spending her birthday night at the club? Sucked.
At least Alex was here. She could always count on him to make her shift entertaining, and he didn’t disappoint. For the past ten minutes, he’d been mixing drinks to the music à la Tom Cruise in Cocktail, cracking Miranda up and eliciting a wave of oohs and aahs from the crowd of females gathered at the bar.
“Miranda! You can go on break now!”
She slid two Corona bottles in front of a customer, then turned to her manager. She had to shout over the hip-hop remix pounding out of the speakers. “I just took one an hour ago!”
It was hard to tell in the strobe lights, but was that a secretive smile on Wendy’s face?
“Take another one! Chill out in the break room for a while.”
Uh-oh. Miranda got a very bad feeling as she untied her apron and tucked it beneath the cash register. She supposed she could’ve insisted she wanted to keep working, but who the heck turned down a break? Still, she had the sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t going to like what she found in the break room. Oh God, had Wendy somehow managed to organize a party? Maybe called in the other bartenders and bouncers who weren’t on duty tonight? Would there be a cake?
Miranda’s stomach churned with anxiety. Aside from Alex, she wasn’t buddy-buddy with her colleagues here at OMG. And she hated parties. With a passion. The only time she enjoyed being the center of attention was when she was on stage, but even then, it didn’t exactly count as “attention”. When she danced, she blocked out everything and everyone, focusing only on the music, the rhythm, the sense of peace that washed over her and carried her away to another realm where life just made sense.
Offstage, having people fawn over her made her self-conscious. She’d dealt with it earlier tonight at the pizza place, when Sophie and Jason announced to everyone in the restaurant that it was their mom’s birthday, but for her kids, she’d suffer through the embarrassment of wearing a paper crown and having a bunch of strangers sing to her.
At the thought of the twins, her heart absolutely melted. She couldn’t believe what a thoughtful present they’d given her today. When she’d flipped through all those incredible professional photos in the calendar they’d created for her, she’d literally burst into tears. She definitely had the best kids on the planet. Like, superior to all other kids, and she didn’t care if thinking that was politically incorrect.
“Excuse me,” she said as she made her way to the back of the club. Several people refused to move, forcing her to elbow a path through the Saturday-night mob.
When she reached the door of the break room, she hesitated, fearful of what she’d find on the other side of it.
Saying a quick prayer, she turned the knob and stepped into the room.
Her jaw dropped. “Seth?”
Okay, well, she hadn’t been expecting this. The room was empty, save for the sexy SEAL sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out, his gray eyes burning hot when she entered the room. As usual, he wore all black, his black tee a stark contrast to the pink cupcake in his hands.
Her lips twitched. “Is that for me?”
“Sure is.” He stood up, pulling out a Bic lighter as he walked toward her. He lit the pink-and-white-striped candle poking out of the pink icing and held out the cupcake. “Happy birthday, Miranda. Make a wish.”
Equal doses of joy and apprehension soared through her.
No, she couldn’t get all soft and gooey about this man again. She’d already tried that. She’d kept an open mind about potentially letting this arrangement become something more, but by freaking out at the restaurant last week, Seth had shown her what a bad idea that was.
He’d been mistaken for her children’s father—and he’d been horrified. Horrified. As if the mere idea was on the same level as being butchered by a serial killer who wanted to construct a skin suit out of your carcass.
She leaned close to the iridescent flame, determined to wish for a successful summer recital, or for the school to start making a profit, or maybe for world peace. But she couldn’t control the unrealistic wish that popped into her head at the last second.
I wish this could be something more.
Aw crap. Total waste of a birthday wish, that’s for sure.
She blew out the candle, then pulled it out of the cupcake and licked the icing off the bottom. Seth focused on her mouth, the heat in his gaze unmistakable.
“Thanks for the cupcake,” she said as they headed to the couch and sat down. She devoured the yummy treat, polishing it off in no more than three bites. “God, this is delicious. Which bakery did you get it from?”
He looked incredibly insulted. “Bakery? I baked this motherfucker myself, Miranda.”
An amazed laugh flew out. “No way.”