“This is the best way to celebrate,” Sandy, the blonde of the friend duo, says.
“What are you celebrating anyway?” I ask.
“My divorce is final,” her friend, Louise, says.
“Then yes, this is an excellent way to celebrate,” I reply with a nod. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Just then, Marcy and Len kiss, then kiss again, making everyone else roll their eyes.
I laugh and turn toward the bar to pick up the last bottle of wine and notice that Owen’s wife, Jen, is now sitting next to him, watching the show. They’re both grinning.
“You filled her in?” I ask in a low voice.
“Of course.”
I smile and shake my head, returning to my audience. Mia just delivered the last course, dessert.
“This is one of our most popular desserts. It’s a chocolate lava cake with vanilla-bean ice cream. I just made that ice cream this morning.”
“Holy sweet Jesus,” Louise says with a smile. “I think we’ve found our new location for girls’ night out.”
“Absolutely,” Sandy says, holding her glass up to her friend in cheers.
“I love the sound of that,” I reply, and then describe the ice wine I’m serving with their cake. “This is a late-harvest ice wine, perfect for dessert. Now, a wine this sweet is best to sip. You really shouldn’t chug any wine, but I especially recommend sipping this one as you eat. The chocolate and the wine complement each other like Sandy and Louise.”
The pair preens as they eat and sip. Mac has laughed, smiled, and been captivated by me all evening.
And I haven’t discouraged him, because to do so would include a scene, and I want these six people to have the time of their lives while they’re here.
“Thanks again for coming by, everyone,” I say as they finish their dessert and gather their things to go. “I hope you enjoyed yourselves.”
“We had a great time,” Lucy says. She and Robert are now holding hands. They loosened up quite a bit while they were here.
“I’m glad.”
“Okay, everyone,” Mac says, rubbing his hands together. “That concludes our tour. You’re welcome to walk back to my office with me, or catch your own transportation home here.”
“I’m glad you told us not to drive,” Len says. “I definitely shouldn’t be driving.”
“Exactly,” Mac replies. “There are plenty of cabs here in this part of downtown, and the Max train is only two blocks over.”
“We’re good,” Louise says. “I’ll call my son to come get us.”
The others filter out as well, discussing how they’ll get home. Mac hangs back, and when they’re all out of earshot, approaches me.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m good at my job,” I reply, my smile gone now.
“I’d like to see you this weekend.”
I still, fully aware that Owen, Jen, and Mia are watching with avid curiosity, and turn to Mac. I set my rag on the table and square my shoulders.
“I’m only going to say this one time, Ryan. I don’t like to associate with liars.”
But rather than try to explain, he just smirks and slides his business card across the table to me, then turns and walks out of my bar, as if he has no cares in the world.
Damn him.
When he’s gone, I walk behind the bar and slam my rag into the sink.
“So that was him,” Owen says, and clears his throat.
“Yep.”
“He’s pretty hot,” Mia says, and I pin her in a glare. “What? He is. You totally scored in the sexcation department.”
“He’s also clearly a liar.” I can put up with a lot of things, but lies aren’t one of them.
“Well, not really,” Jen says as she looks at his card, then shows it to me. “It says Ryan ‘Mac’ MacKenzie on his card. So, he didn’t lie about his name.”
“But, he also didn’t try to explain that,” Owen says with a shrug. “He kind of had an arrogant chip on his shoulder the way he shoved the card at you and stalked off without a word.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I like that,” Jen says with a nod. “I mean, he could have said, ‘No, Kat, it’s a misunderstanding. Look at my card.’”
“Exactly. He’s arrogant,” I reply, feeding off of their energy.
“I wonder if he came in here with his group already knowing that you’d be here so he could ask you out,” Mia says thoughtfully.
“Why do that?” I ask, twisting the rag in my hands now.
I wish it were Mac’s neck.
“I mean, he knows I’m here, all he had to do was call. He didn’t have to come up with some elaborate scheme by bringing his clients in here.”
“Well, it’s certainly more dramatic this way,” Jen says sensibly. “He brings a group in, and sweeps you off your feet because you’re so excited to see him you can hardly contain yourself. Then he whisks you away for some hot sex.”
He really is very good at whisking.
But I shake my head and keep my irritation pulled around me like a shield. I yank the towel out of the sink so I can keep twisting it. Like Mac’s neck.
“If he thought he was being romantic, he has another thing coming.”
“Also,” Owen adds, “I’m still stuck on the no-words thing. He can’t speak to you? That’s some pretty shitty communication right there.”