“Well, this guy is a server somewhere? Or bartender? I can’t remember the details. Honestly, I’m the token single friend at this point. I’m set up so often I’ve stopped bothering to remember their names, let alone their professions.”
Ezra’s smile returned and with it my heart fluttered and unwanted butterflies took flight. He opened his mouth to say something more, but we were interrupted by a hard knock on the door and Wyatt’s head popping in. “Oh, sorry,” Wyatt mumbled barely sounding apologetic. “Karen Savoy is here. She wants to have a word with you. And me, apparently.”
Ezra’s pleasant expression disappeared and he was once again all business, completely serious. “I’ll be out in a moment.” To me he said, “Thanks again, Molly. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I smiled pleasantly and said goodbye to Wyatt and Ezra so they could deal with Karen Savoy—whoever that was. Deciding to forget about my almost normal conversation with Ezra, I ran the rest of my errands and picked up Chinese takeout on the way home. I spent the remainder of the night watching a documentary on an unsolved murder and freaking myself way out, even though all I wanted to do was paint.
But when I finally fell asleep, after at least twenty minutes of hysteric worrying, I was proud of myself for leaving my paints alone. And the memories of Ezra’s smiling mouth. And his crinkled eyes. The way he gentled and heated and became something else entirely.
When I woke up in the morning, I checked my email and fought the urge to paint all of him over again.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: February 24, 2017 02:39:01 EST
Subject: World-Class Menagerie
I watched Aladdin. You should have always been Jasmine. Every single time.
Chapter Six
I clutched the cool glass in my hand and slipped to a corner of the room where I could hide from the potential date Steph had introduced me to. Steph was one of Wyatt’s friends that I’d gotten to know through hanging out with him. She was sweet and energetic and had terrible taste in men. She’d sworn up and down that her friend Trent would be perfect for me.
Trent was a bartender from Greenlight, one of the cool, late night venues in the plaza. Once she’d introduced us, I realized I knew who he was and didn’t hate looking at him, so I’d spent the first third of the night trying to talk to him.
At first, he seemed nice enough, although I never felt the flicker of chemistry or intrigue that was usually a good sign. He was taller than me and obviously worked out more than the occasional spin class. He had a nice smile and sturdy teeth. His laugh wasn’t obnoxious and I knew he had a job. My internal checklist would have been complete if I’d been able to hold his attention for longer than three seconds at a time.
From my brief time hanging out with people in the food industry, I knew two things about bartenders. 1. They got a lot of action. 2. They expected a lot of action.
Bonus point. 3. They enjoyed attention. But it didn’t really matter to them who they got it from.
Or at least the ones I’d met so far. So I’d put in some time with Trent while he continued to scan the room for potentials just in case I didn’t work out. I’d ducked away at the first possible opportunity.
I’d already decided to make it my mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. Plus, the party seemed to be a success and I wanted to check out my handiwork.
Well, it wasn’t totally my handiwork.
Actually, barely any of it was my handiwork.
I’d brought some centerpieces and recruited part of the team, but really Wyatt and Ezra deserved all the credit.
Also, credit was due to Meg, Ezra’s florist, who wasn’t even a florist. Her email signature had referenced one of the premier interior design firms in the city. I’d googled her, expecting a middle-aged plastic blonde. Instead, I’d gotten a chic redhead that couldn’t have been much older than me.
I hated her immediately.
No, that wasn’t true. I’d disliked her immediately. I hadn’t hated her until I’d walked into Lilou three hours ago and seen what she’d done to the place.
Lilou was usually a stunning sight, but tonight I’d actually lost my breath when I walked inside the door. She’d taken my vintage spice racks and filled them with vibrant red peonies in overflowing bouquets that added magic to Lilou’s already enchanting decor.
She’d draped more peonies over the iron bars on the windows and hung them in glass lanterns from the ceiling. She’d tented sheer fabric and layered the ceiling, transforming Lilou from trendy restaurant to epic event hot spot. Then she draped twinkling lights all over because clearly we needed more charm.
She’d strategically placed food stations around the room and grouped Wyatt’s Vera-inspired menu from back in her short-lived food truck days in perfectly edible harmonies. And she’d somehow convinced Ezra to move tables out of the way so she could set up a dance floor that was currently crowded.
This was the party I hadn’t been brave enough to hope for. Getting Lilou as the venue had been a big enough deal. What Meg had accomplished was… next level brilliance. And I had Ezra to thank.
Speaking of Ezra, the man didn’t disappoint. He’d called Killian earlier in the day and asked him to bring Vera by the restaurant to try the tasting menu of a new executive chef he was considering for Bianca, one of his other restaurants. Killian and Vera had jumped at the chance to check out the new blood.
The surprise was only sort of ruined when they walked in the side door to the kitchen instead of the front door. The guests hadn’t been expecting Killian and Vera to sneak up on them from behind.
Still, a surprise was a surprise. Vera had burst into tears and Killian had wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. The photographer Meg had enlisted snapped away, capturing the beautiful moment forever.
Now, well into the party, I was three champagne cocktails deep and working on my fourth. Vera danced with Killian in the middle of the floor, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, cheek pressed against his chest.
My heart kicked at the sight of them and I took another drink of champagne. I scanned the room, noting Ezra smiling at Meg, no doubt congratulating her on a job well done. My job well done. I took another drink of champagne.
“Where can I get one of those?” A pretty blonde pointed at the drink in my hand.
She had to be from Ezra’s list of invites since I didn’t recognize her. She was stunning in a white shift dress that showed off one elegant shoulder and a whole lot of leg. I wondered if Ezra bugged her about wearing a coat.
I took another sip.
“Just stand here for a minute,” I told her through numb lips. I pointed at a seemingly floating tray of drinks making its way through the crowd. “Careful though. They’re the kind of good that’s dangerous.”
“Yeah, Aidan is the best.” She referenced the bartender while adjusting the strap of her dangerously high stiletto. “But then again my brother only hires the best.”
Her words bounced around in my champagne infused brain. “Your brother?”
She nodded across the room. “Ezra,” she clarified.