“Two jalape?o margaritas!” Lily called, sliding two drinks across the bar. There was a small crowd around her, watching her work and waiting anxiously for their turn to get a drink.
There was another bar on the other side of the restaurant, but like always, people were drawn to her. She had her blonde hair twisted up in a bun atop her head, but a few strands had slipped out. She huffed out a breath, trying to blow the strands out of her eyes as she dried her hands on her black apron. She wasn’t in the standard black uniform the other employees wore; she never was. Just like the food, she was a constant source of color in the restaurant. Her royal blue wrap dress curved around her, completely modest but lighting a fire inside me even still. She was beautiful. Hours of working behind a bar would never dampen her glow.
I walked up to the edge of the bar, a few feet away from where she was stationed. She bent forward toward a patron to hear his order over the hum of the crowd. When she leaned back and reached for her shaker, I spoke up.
“You told me you were going to catch up on admin stuff tonight,” I said.
Her bright eyes slid from the shaker up to me and she squealed.
“Dean!”
She took two steps closer and leaned over the bar to plant a kiss right on my lips. I wrapped a hand around her neck, holding her against me.
“I missed you,” I breathed against her lips.
“I need to make this drink,” she laughed, peeling out of my hold.
I regretted having to let her go, but there were customers waiting for drinks.
“You want me to help?” I asked.
There’d been a few nights in the last month when Lily and I’d had to tackle bar duty together.
She scooped some ice into the shaker and shook her head. “Nah, there’s plenty to do in the office and I don’t want to be here until 3 AM again.”
Her mischievous smile confirmed that she was referring to the week before when we’d worked late and shared Chinese food in the back office. She’d leaned over to wipe something from the edge of my mouth, I’d licked her finger, and we’d ended up on the floor in a messy pile of love and lo mein.
I tapped my knuckle against the bar. “Come find me when it slows down.”
…
There was a knock on the office door and I glanced up as Lily strolled in, kicking the door shut behind her. She held a bottle of chilled champagne in one hand and two champagne glasses in the other.
“How were your parents?” she asked.
I leaned back in my chair and motioned her forward.
“Good, but they were sad you couldn’t make it. Why the champagne?”
She slid down onto my lap and I wrapped my hands around her waist. She nuzzled the side of my neck and I inhaled her sweet perfume.
“It’s to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?” I asked, pulling back so I could look into her eyes.
She smiled. “This place has been open for almost six months. That article in the Times has taken our business to a new level. I think we have like 250 reservations for Friday night already.”
I drew a strand of hair off her cheek. “Are you happy with it? The hours and the work?”
She shot me a sidelong glance. “Are you kidding me?”
The Times article had been a human interest piece more than a food critique. Word got out soon after we opened that I’d opened the restaurant in Lily’s honor. The dishes and their names were all charmingly named for her. She’d become something of a celebrity in the food world overnight, but there was no time to relish in the popularity except for stolen moments in our back office with stolen champagne.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’m happy if you’re happy.”
She rolled her eyes at my cheesy comment and then held up the champagne. “Should I pop it open?”
“I have something to ask you first,” I said, feeling the weight of the ring in my pocket.
She rubbed her lips together to contain her grin. “I think I already know what it is.”
“Do you?”
She nodded. “I found something in your pants the other week when I was doing laundry.”
“Lily—”
She smiled and kissed me.
“And guess what?” she continued.
“What?”
“I already tried it on.”
I shook my head, surprised that she’d been able to keep the secret as long as she had.
“Did you?”
She nodded, not the least bit ashamed. “And I might have also sent a photo of it to Jo.”
I laughed. I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was Lily after all. “Well then I guess I don’t even have to ask you then?”
Her eyes widened with the fire I’d grown to love. “You'd better ask me, Dean Harper.”
I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Nah. I think I’ll wait for a better moment. Maybe I’ll plan something next month? Or maybe next spring when the trees look nice in Central Park?”
She fumed at the idea of waiting that long. “Please don’t make me wait.”
I shook my head. “This can’t be our story. We can’t get engaged in the back of our restaurant.”
Her head fell to my chest and she rocked it back and forth. “No! I want this story. This, right here.”