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Susan grinned at him. “He’s quite a sight, isn’t he? But you can take him home a lot faster if you keep moving.”

“I…sorry.”

She laughed. “Don’t be.”

Thorne turned then and caught them staring. “What? You’ve never seen a man in a tux wash dishes?”

Riley came up behind him and leaned close. “Not one with an ass like that.”

Thorne actually blushed. Riley loved it when he could manage that.

“I’m going to take another load down to the van. It won’t be much longer now.”

“Thank God for that,” Thorne said. “As it is, I should probably wear the apron on the way out to protect the virtue of everyone around us.”

Riley laughed.

A few minutes later, everything that belonged to them was back in the van. The counters were wiped down, the trays put away, and the industrial dishwasher loaded. Anything remaining would be handled by the nighttime cleaning crew.

Susan had a bottle of champagne and enough glasses for Marc, Thorne, Kathryn, Riley, and herself. The rest of the crew had already departed.

They all gathered at one of the counters. Susan filled the glasses and then held hers up. “To a successful night. Thank you for trusting us with your fundraiser.”

They clinked glasses, and Riley took a sip, letting the effervescent liquid glide over his tongue. Now that it was over, he was really proud of what they’d accomplished. As nervous as he had been at the beginning, once he was in the midst of it he’d fed off the energy: the thrill of people loving their food, the bustle of servers coming in and out of the kitchen, the race to get everything done on time. The night had solidified what he’d already known. He wanted this—more catering jobs and a shop of his own where he could make people’s food fantasies come true.

Thorne caught his gaze and smiled at him over the rim of his glass as he took a long sip.

“I couldn’t be more impressed,” Kathryn was saying when he tuned back in to the conversation. “If Peggy agrees—and I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t—I’d like to put you on retainer as the museum’s official caterers.”

“Really?” They’d done well, but Riley hadn’t expected that.

“Yes,” Kathryn assured him. “I’ve got people begging for your contact information.”

“So have I.” Thorne gave Riley a pointed I-told-you-so smile.

Riley stopped himself from sticking his tongue out at Thorne and turned to Susan. “Should we go for it? See how big we can be?”

“Does that mean…?”

Riley nodded. “I want to quit school and get serious about finding a place for us.”

Susan ran around the counter and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m so excited!”

As soon as she let him go, Thorne grabbed him. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Me too,” Riley said as he relaxed into the hug, letting the relief run through him. This was the right decision. It felt too good not to be. He’d kept going to school because he thought he should, not because he wanted to. That wasn’t how he lived his life. If he’d listened to the “shoulds,” he would never have been an escort and he’d never have met Thorne.

Thorne stepped back to let Marc hug him. “Thank God you finally came to your senses,” he said as he released Riley.

So Marc had wanted him to quit all along? “I asked you what I should do.”

“I couldn’t tell you what to do. You had to see for yourself that you and Susan have what it takes, that your love of food is all you need.”

Kathryn began refilling everyone’s glasses. “We need another toast.”

Thorne held up his glass. “To Riley and Susan. May they have the best bakery this city has ever seen.”

“Hear, hear!” Marc and Kathryn chanted.

As soon as Thorne had downed his champagne he looked at Riley. “Can we get out of here now?”

“We better let them,” Susan said. “Or we might see more than we want to.”

Marc gave Thorne and Riley a slow once-over. “Speak for yourself.”

Riley flipped him off.

“Susan, I’ll walk you to the garage so these two can get on with getting off,” Marc said. “You too, Kathryn, if that’s where you’re parked.”

Kathryn shook her head. “My husband’s waiting for me in the circle out front. But thank you.”

Marc made a sweeping bow. “You’re quite welcome.”

“Quit that.” Riley pretended to gag.

“Get him out of here,” Marc said to Thorne.

“God knows I’m trying.”

***

“How much champagne have you had?” Riley asked when they reached Thorne’s car in the VIP lot.

“One glass hours ago when things got started and about one and a half just now. I’m fine.”

“Good.”

“Are you too tired to drive?” Thorne sounded disappointed, likely assuming if Riley was too tired to drive, then he was too tired for activities Thorne had planned when they got home.

He smiled at Thorne. “Don’t worry. I’m not tired at all.” He was way too pumped up on adrenaline. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep even after fucking Thorne six ways from Sunday.

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