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Julien looked at the bottle of wine on the table, as she reached for it and poured herself a glass. He’d known Lise for several years now. She’d been the manager at his L.A. location, and when he and Priest had agreed to relocate and Julien had decided to open up a Chicago restaurant, he’d known he wanted her on as manager. The only thing he hadn’t been positive on was whether Lise would want to leave a life of year-round sunshine to live where the temperature was currently cold enough to freeze a witch’s tit. Luckily, she was as crazy as they were.
“You know, I think I need to take up this meditation/yoga stuff you swear by. It’s the only reason you can possibly be this calm all the time,” she said, bringing her glass up to her ruby-red lips. “Well, that and your handsome husband.”
Julien studied her as he took another sip of his wine. If truth be told, he was far from calm today. With the restaurant inching closer to its opening date and the end of January creeping up on them, he had a lot on his mind.
This month was always hard on him. It brought back memories he’d rather drown out with an entire case of wine, not merely a glass. But that wasn’t his way to cope anymore. It hadn’t been for years now. And tonight he had something else that was going to take his mind off the demons that plagued him. Robbie really couldn’t have called at a better time.
“Now, now, don’t be jealous,” he said, and placed his glass back on the table. “Green doesn’t suit you.”
“Mhmm. Well, since he’s on my mind now, how is the Priest?”
Julien thought about their exchange just now with Robbie and ran his fingers around the base of his glass. “We’re both a little frustrated right now.”
“Oh, holding out on him again, are we?”
“Oui. We’ve been waiting on someone to make une décision.”
Lise wasn’t a stranger to their way of life. Having known them for as long as she had, she was well aware that their marriage was not the most conventional of sorts. She also knew the meaning of being discreet, which Julien found essential when it came to keeping his private life and public persona separate.
“Oh, there’s a new someone on the scene? Do tell me more.”
“Gossip,” Julien said, then finished off his wine and pointed to the notepad. “Write the name of this one down. I like it.”
“Got it.”
“Good. Is there anything else pressing right now, or…?”
“Only about a million things,” she said. “But that can wait. I need to taste this wine and I want to hear more about the one who has the both of you waiting on him. That’s unheard of.”
“I’M SORRY, BUT I’m going to need you to repeat what you just said, because it sounded like ‘I think I’m dating two men.’”
Robbie sat across from Elliot in one of the booths of The Daily Grind and shushed him. “Jesus, say it louder, why don’t you?”
“Bitch, please. If I were you, I’d be twirling around like Julie Andrews on a mountaintop right now telling the whole world.”
Robbie laughed. He could actually picture that.
“Okay, so, two men.” Elliot held up two fingers just to make sure they both agreed on the correct number. “One, I’m assuming, is the Prick, because your luck seems disgustingly good right now.”
Robbie grinned, picked up the new Dreamweaver latte he was trying—hazelnut and white mocha; it was delicious—and nodded.
“Fuck you for that,” Elliot said, and popped a piece of his choc-chip muffin in his mouth. “And I have no idea who the other person is. I mean, no… Did he bring along a celebrity friend? If you tell me you’re banging two famous people right now, I’m getting up and leaving you here with the bill.”
Robbie rolled his eyes. “I’m paying anyway, loser. And no, that’s not it.”
Robbie thought about how to say this next part out loud because, well, he hadn’t exactly been shy in his dislike for the third man in this whole equation.
“Then who is it?”
Robbie put his drink down and looked around as though what he was about to say was a state secret, and then leaned across the table. “It’s Priest. Joel Priestley.”
“Joel Priestley? As in the asshole who has less personality than a robot?”
Uhh… “Yes?”
“You cagey little shit,” Elliot said. “Hate fucking? Oh my God. A celebrity, and hot hate fucking? Let me guess, the Prick is there to make sure you two don’t kill each other? Yep, it’s official. You win this month. I can’t compete with that.”
“Actually,” Robbie said, as he shifted in his seat, the ache between his legs not helped by the description Elliot had just provided, “Julien is there because they’re, um, well, they’re married.”
