It’s a stalemate, I realize. He wants to humiliate me, it appears, because it has everyone around the bar’s attention.
Greer slaps him on the shoulder.
“Got a few orders backing up,” he tells his chef.
The Alpha in question doesn’t even budge, just stares me down. Oh, if he thinks he’s going to get the upper hand on me, he’s got another thing coming.
I grab one half of the open-faced sandwich and bring it to my lips. I’m overly dramatic as I place it in my mouth, moaning, acting like it’s the best meal of my life. It is, in fact, absolutely delicious.
Callum’s brows furrow as I swallow.
“This one was definitely made with love, mmm. Thank you so much, chef Callum,” I say with the most cheery disposition I can manage.
It was definitely not the response he was looking for as he walks back to the gallery without another word.
“I could cut the sexual tension with a knife,” Birdie whispers in my ear.
“Gross, Bird.”
She shrugs, digging into her food. My best pal, and the oldest man I know, Alan, comes in and starts animatedly talking to my sister and going on about how twins run in his family, too.
Greer is refilling someone’s beer before he leans on the bar top to chat with me.
“So, besides pissing off my chef, how’s your trip going?” he asks.
Birdie seems just as charmed with Alan as I was the other evening and so I don’t worry about her eavesdropping.
“It’s been good, really good actually,” I say, glancing at my sister and Greer smiles.
“Happy to hear it.”
The live music starts up and Alan, the sly old dog he is, asks Birdie to dance and she doesn’t refuse him, laughing the whole time.
There’s an immense amount of happiness and lightness that falls over me watching my sister laugh and dance and I think maybe I could learn to let go.
“I can’t let Alan show me up,” Greer says, stealing my attention from the small dance floor.
“What?”
Before I can even repeat myself, he’s flipping the bar top open and grabbing my hand and dragging me off the bar stool and to the dance floor.
“Oh. I’m not really—I can’t really,” I stutter the words as he effortlessly picks me up by the waist and spins me around.
“You cunt, showing off like that,” Alan says and I gasp at the old man. “Sorry, dears.”
Greer just laughs, putting me down on the ground, putting his hands on my hips and dancing to the beat.
“Aren’t you supposed to be pouring drinks? I’ll take her off your hands,” a voice says.
Greer gives him such a dirty look that the man at the bar must have promptly shut the fuck up. I’m grinning, but looking down so the Alpha who I’m dancing with can’t see.
“You know it’s not a crime to be happy, Maisie,” he says against my ear, and I glance up at him.
I smile dramatically up at him and he just shakes his head at me with a laugh. I follow his steps, letting him lead the dance, and it’s far easier this way.
“Not sure what you were worried about, lass. You’re an excellent dance partner.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply and I wonder if maybe Birdie is right. I test her theory by literally letting my hair down, taking the claw clip out of my hair and tossing it onto my seat.
