The celebrity chefs already had crowds around them and I steered clear, opting for a table across the room. Hunter, Zoe, and Julian followed me in, taking in the scene in silence. I ordered bottle service and threw Zoe a pleading look. She shrugged and stared down at her phone. Good enough. I couldn’t stand another hour of her anger.
Our waiter returned with bottles of Hendrick’s Gin and Deep Eddy Vodka. I watched him set out ice, glasses, and a slew of mixers. Once he was gone, I motioned for them to make their drinks first and turned to scan the room.
I couldn’t admit to myself that I was looking for Lily until I found her. Her long blonde hair was curled and slipping down across her back. Her black dress was tight and short. I scanned down her tan legs and then lingered on her, too aware of the kick drum in my chest.
She laughed and reached out to touch the arm of the guy across from her. It was nothing more than a harmless gesture, but the guy’s smile almost split his face in two. I couldn’t blame him; I knew what that touch felt like.
Hunter, Julian, and Zoe were talking behind me, carrying on an entire conversation that I ignored. Someone tapped my shoulder, but I was too interested in Lily, too aware of her movements in that black dress. She turned in my direction and her eyes found me. I didn’t glance away. It was a challenge, just like always. One slender brow arched in acknowledgement and then she excused herself from the group. Their faces fell and the man she’d touched reached out after her, like he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.
Too bad, asshole.
You never even had her.
I watched her walk toward the table like a mirage. If I blinked, if I turned away, she’d disappear.
“Lily!” Zoe yelled, jumping up to greet her.
Lily smiled, but her focus was still on me.
She looked different, like for once she wasn’t shying away from her absolute beauty. She was making a show of it, as if she knew exactly the kind of power she wielded.
Her red-stained lips curled into a smirk and she pressed a piece of paper to my chest. I reached for it, gripping her hand along with the slip of paper.
She shook her head and pulled her hand away.
This was a game and the rules were clear: she wasn’t mine for the night. I didn’t deserve her.
“That sheet of paper has the names and emails of three prominent food bloggers who would like to be invited to our grand opening.”
I smiled.
“Jessica Kepner writes a weekly column for the Times. She’s a tapas fanatic and wants to do an in-depth interview with you and the team. Her info is on the back. She’s expecting you to call her next week.”
I thought I might have fallen in love with Lily in that moment.
She leaned closer so that her lips were a few inches from my face. I focused there as she bit out the last few words. “I might not know as much about this world as you do, but I deserve your best semblance of respect. You don’t get to send me home because I didn’t kiss that chef’s ass. This is my job, and it's time for you to realize that I’m good at it.”
She walked away before I could pick my jaw up off the floor. She wasn’t going to let me win that easily. Hell, she probably wasn’t going to let me win at all. I stood and smiled.
Game on.
…
I found Lily by the bar, waiting on a drink.
“Can we talk for a second?” I whispered against her ear. “Alone?”
She ignored me, bending forward to try to get the bartender’s attention. Fortunately for me, he had a hundred other customers vying for a drink. I reached out and gripped her arm. Her skin was so soft beneath my fingers, I wanted to trace the curve of her arm, up to her neck and beyond.
She flinched and tried to pull her arm back. “Let go of me, Dean.”
“Come talk to me.”
She tilted her head and narrowed her smoky eyes up at me. “You know, I think I’d rather stay here. Maybe another time.”
She twisted around, trying to walk away, but I still had a grip on her arm. She winced and I knew I was hurting her, but I couldn’t let go. My fingers were wrapped around her arm and if I let her go, she’d slip back into the dim lights of the club, free to do whatever she wanted.
“Lily, you good?”
The guy from earlier—the one who’d hated to see her walk away—was back and about to find my last nerve. His too-tight Izod shirt was tucked into his jeans and the bright salmon color confirmed the fact that he wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like Lily if he were ever lucky enough to have her.
“Who’s this? Is he hitting on you?”
She laughed and the hollow sound sliced through me.
“No. This is my boss.”
Her tone was icy and distant. When she turned back to stare at me, I knew I’d lost whatever grip I’d once had on her. My fingers slid from her arm and I stared down at the red imprint I’d caused. It faded almost instantly, her tan overwhelming the redness as she let the guy lead her toward a dark corner of the club. I stood immobile, letting the crowd press into me, jostling and yelling out drink orders I couldn’t hear.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lily