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“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” she says, reaching around me to push open my door. “Now get out and go get your man.”
“Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it, but break a leg.”
“Holy shit,” I hiss the second my feet hit the pavement and almost go right out from under me. It’s going to be harder to walk in these heels than I thought.
“I didn’t mean for you to actually break a leg,” Jamie hollers out the window.
I lift a hand. “I’m good. I’ve got this.”
“For the love of Saint Nick, be careful.”
I wave her off, square my shoulders, push open the door, and step carefully into Sal’s. We’re closing up shop early tonight for the party, but not for another hour or so.
“Heya, Naughty!” Chris, a regular, says.
“It’s me, Nice.” I shrug out of my coat and hang it by the door. When I turn toward Chris, he’s staring at me with wide eyes.
“No shit?”
“No shit.” I pat his back as I walk past him and round the bar. “Hey, Crystal.”
“Hey. We’re out running out of Grey Goose.” She has her head buried in the cooler while she restocks. “Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, but you know how the boys like their Grey Goose at Christmas.”
The boys she’s referring to are two of our wonderful cooks, Ethan and Scott.
“We’ve got some in the back. I’ll have Ben grab it whenever I see him.”
“Perfect.” Crystal shuts the cooler and stands up. “We’re also running low on peanuts and—whoa, mama.”
“How do I look?” I smooth my hands down the front of my dress and shimmy my hips.
Chris sputters. “Don’t do that again.”
Crystal cracks up laughing. “Tonight is going to be so much fun.”
“It is? Why?”
“Because no one is used to seeing you like this. Just wait until Ben sees you. He’s going to swallow his tongue.”
“And murder every guy who looks at you,” Chris adds.
That’s what I’m hoping for. “Oh, he will not.”
“Wanna bet?” Chris takes a drink of his beer. “You’re going to give the poor boy a heart attack.”
“Who had a heart attack?” Scott says, walking out of the kitchen.
Chris finishes his beer and hands the empty bottle to Crystal. “Ben will when he sees Nice.”
Scott scans the bar and does a double take when his eyes land on me. “Dani?”
“I clean up nice, huh?”
“I’d say.” He smiles appreciatively. “It’s a far cry from the jeans, T-shirt, and tennis shoes you normally wear.”
