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“Why, thank you.”
Her gaze flicked over my shoulder and something in her expression changed. Her body language was enough to tell me who was coming, but I didn’t need to read the signals because I felt a prickling on my shoulder blade and a shiver down my spine before Sebastian sidled over next to me. Our elbows bumped and our arms brushed, but he wasn’t paying attention to me. He leaned over the bar counter to grin at Charity.
“Sophie’s right. You’re a total knockout and you look especially gorgeous today. What’s with the dress? Is there a special occasion?”
Pink colored Charity’s cheeks and she fussed over her outfit, pleased that he noticed. “Yes. There was a party in my office earlier. But it was pretty boring, so I left early.”
“That’s a shame. You could have stayed and kicked the party up a notch.”
“You think I can?”
“You’re Charity Philips, resident knockout and one of our best customers. Of course you can.”
She ate it all up, but I could tell he was sincere with his praises. It gave her the confidence to flutter her lashes and be a little bolder as she touched his arm, and her voice grew husky. The smile never left his mouth, and the light flirting session had me shaking my head before I left them to their devices. Sebastian glanced at me, brown eyes filled with mischief, then returned his attention to her.
I talked to another customer, keeping him preoccupied while the bartender, Ricky, was busy making another customer’s drinks. I delivered a tray of food to a couple at a corner table and chatted them up a bit, trying to find the right questions that were friendly without prying too much. It was something I often saw Sebastian do, his habit of making patrons comfortable and getting them to stay longer. I was getting the hang of it, too, and I beamed when the couple shared some news with me.
“Oh, congratulations! Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Not yet. We’re just hoping it’s a healthy kid,” the man said. “That means no more drinking for her and we might not be coming here as often.”
“You can always come here for the food,” I teased, pleased when it earned a laugh from the woman. I congratulated them again and walked away to grab more trays, deliver them to tables, and chat whenever I could.
It was nice. I didn’t think I would find it nice, especially after all the horror stories I had heard about people working in customer service. But the restaurant had good regulars and the staff always kept things running smoothly, even when dealing with rowdy customers. I was learning a lot, and one thing I learned was how I had become so used to running errands for my boss and getting it done in a snap, which meant less time for socializing. I also got used to spending time with Brett day in and day out before we got busy. While we had our routine down pat and it was comfortable, I was starting to realize how boring it was and how our relationship never really moved forward.
I’d met him at work, slept with him the first week, then made it official with him. We moved in together right after, and that was that—my city life summarized. Why did I never seek anything else? Why did I never find time to bond with other people and do something different?
“Well, this is different,” I muttered under my breath, then caught a glimpse of a figure entering his office. When I found some leeway, I snuck out of the busy area and into the office, shutting the door quietly.
Matthew was at his desk, a sight that was becoming one of my favorites. He was stacked with paperwork and still in a suit, but he’d ditched the necktie and loosened up the first few buttons of his dress shirt. It gave me a glimpse of his chest, hard and muscled. His messy hair told me he’d been running his hand over it, probably worrying over numbers. For the first time, he wore eyeglasses, looking like the hottest scholar on the planet.
My stomach tumbled. My fingers itched to fix his hair and his shirt, but a part of me knew I wouldn’t be fixing that shirt but unbuttoned it further until I caught more than a glimpse of his chest. A memory of us in his car, intimately pressed against each other, fluttered in my mind. My hands had been on him, and our mouths were so achingly close, I was pretty sure he was going to kiss me.
But he didn’t. And I was embarrassing myself for obsessing over what could have been.
I fixed my expression just as he looked up, finally noticing my presence. He removed his glasses and I waited until the haze of work left his eyes.
“Hey. Sorry. How long were you in here?”
I smiled. “Hey, yourself. Not long. Did you eat?”
He blinked and it was adorable. Then he stood, walked past the desk, and towered over me, and it was no longer adorable as my breath caught. I almost backed a step but didn’t, wanting to see how close he would come. But he stopped a respectable distance.
“Did you eat?”
“I asked you the question first,” I shot back. “And to answer yours, yes, I did. Sebastian always makes sure all the staff eats and Chef Marone’s a wicked cook. Only a picky eater wouldn’t like what he whips up.”
He grinned at that, blasting me with the full breadth of his handsomeness. My stomach tumbled again, the butterflies going at it.
“He’s amazing. I’m glad he said yes when I asked him to work for me. It was such a risk, too, since I didn’t know if the business would push off the ground.”
“And look at it now. Your business is thriving.”
Something wistful came over his face at my words. The next look he gave me felt so intimate that all the noises outside died as if we were the only two people in the world. Then he cleared his throat and the moment was gone, leaving me with longing and a deep, constant ache.
“Was there something you needed, Soph?”
You.
