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He shook with her and then leaned toward Chelsea. His blood surged through his veins as he enclosed her small hand inside his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Grant.”
“Grant who?” asked Mary Ellen.
He’d been hoping to get away with staying on first name terms.
“I don’t think that matters, does it?” Chelsea spoke before he had to answer.
“Oh! I guess not,” said Mary Ellen hurriedly, making him wonder if he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to give his last name.
He got the bartender’s attention and ordered a bottle of Perrier Jouet.
Mary Ellen raised an eyebrow at him. “I take it you’re not a local?” she asked with a laugh.
He shrugged. Perhaps ordering champagne in wine country wasn’t the smartest move. “I just thought you two might want to celebrate.”
“What, celebrate meeting you?” asked Mary Ellen.
He hadn’t meant that. He’d thought Chelsea might want to celebrate being free of Mr. Fun-While-it-Lasted, but then he wasn’t sure he should say so. Chelsea caught his gaze again and gave him the tiniest hint of a smile that suggested she knew what he meant.
Once they each had a glass, Mary Ellen looked around at them. “Are we proposing a toast?”
Chelsea shrugged.
“Here’s to drinking champagne in wine country.” Grant raised his glass. The two girls burst out laughing. “What?” he asked.
Chelsea smiled at him. “Sorry. Just an in-joke, I guess.”
He turned to Mary Ellen. “Are you going to explain it?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Nah. I’ll let you figure it out for yourself.” She downed her champagne and smiled at them. “If you’ll excuse me a moment.”
Chelsea gave her a puzzled look, but she trotted off in the direction of the ladies’ room.
Grant smiled at Chelsea. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. You just broke up with someone?”
She nodded.
“Should I leave you to your champagne and your girly night then?”
Her eyes flickered up to meet his.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’d like to hang out with you if you want? But I don’t want to spoil your night.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then looked down and rummaged in her purse. She pulled out her cell phone and checked it, then she laughed and looked back up at him.
“What?” he asked with a smile. “Why do I feel like the joke’s on me?”
“I think the joke’s on me. That was Mary Ellen. She thought you’d like to hang out with me too—and she didn’t want to spoil my night. So, she left.”
Grant couldn’t believe his luck. “I guess that leaves you in an awkward position?”
“Not really. If I didn’t want to hang out with you I didn’t need to tell you what she just said, did I? I could have told you it was an emergency, and I had to leave.”
He laughed. “Yeah. I guess you could. I’m glad you didn’t.”
She nodded and looked him up and down. “I considered it.”
“You did?”
