“Hi, how many in your party?”
“Oh, I think there should be a reservation under Mr. Lefr—”
“Lily.”
My back stiffened at the sound of my name uttered by a familiar deep voice. Please be Julian. Please be Julian. I turned on my heel and came face to face with Dean Harper leaning against the wall of the foyer with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black slacks. His brows were furrowed, his bow lips were set in a thin line and his brown eyes were emitting disdain on levels that should have been reserved for truly heinous criminals. Or y’know that annoying person who tries to cut in front of you in the frozen yogurt line. I’m getting toppings, whore. This isn’t a free-for-all.
I took a step toward him and then gawked as the redhead beside him leaned in to kiss his cheek. She was nearly his height, which made her a few inches taller than me, but it was her hair that held my attention. The strands were made of pure fire, the same shade she’d used to coat her lips. Her dress was tight and black, wrapped around her body in a way that made me tug at the simple white blouse I’d put on that morning. I’d run around the city in it for the last twelve hours, so chances were I was sporting approximately two to four mystery stains and enough wrinkles to make it seem as if I’d just pulled it out of the hamper.
“We’re waiting on Julian and Jo,” Dean said, foregoing any sort of greeting. I glanced back to him and caught the tail end of his perusal of my outfit. I arched a brow as our eyes locked.
“You brought a friend,” I said with a polite smile aimed at the woman to his left.
“A date,” he corrected.
Of course.
“Ah, well, I didn’t realize we were bringing dates.”
He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m sorry, I’ll have Jo clear that with you next time. Just so we’re all on the same page.” He spoke with unaffected indifference.
I opened my mouth to reply when his date stepped forward and cut the tension brewing between us. “I’m Casey,” she said, holding out her hand as a peace offering. Her smile was genuine, albeit a little desperate. I’m sure she felt the awkwardness as much as I did.
“Lily,” I said, accepting her handshake and cursing the heavens. How does someone get hands that soft?
“Nice to meet you, Lily,” she beamed.
She was beautiful and polite; what the hell was she doing with Dean?
“How did you two meet?” I asked, focusing my attention on Casey.
She smiled and reached for his hand so she could twine their fingers together. “It’s actually a funny story. I was at a coffee shop, y’know that cool place up on 43rd?” She glanced at Dean. “What’s it called?” Before he could reply, she continued the ‘funny’ story with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, I was ordering a bagel, but I wanted a blueberry one and they were all out of blueberry so then…”
My attention span had been shot somewhere between her first and second sentence, but I pretended to follow along. I didn’t need to know her life story. I just wanted to know if he’d somehow drugged her to get her to go out with him.
“And so then anyway, Dean comes up and asks, ‘Is this your coffee’?”
Nope. Still boring. Tune out.
“So yeah!” she said, with a dimpled smile and a shrug, wrapping up her story a few minutes later. “That’s about it. I guess this is our second official date.”
I smiled, hatching a plan to hit Dean in the wallet. “Well what a special night for you guys. We’d better celebrate. Dean, why don’t you order a nice bottle of champagne while we wait?”
“I loooove champagne!” crooned Casey as I grabbed a wine list from the hostess stand.
“I think we should wait for Jul—”
“Nonsense! Casey, would you say you’re a light-bodied brut girl?” I asked.
“My favorites are the really bubbly champagnes. I like the way it tickles my nose!” she chirped adorably.
“Bubbly brut, got it.” I smiled wide as I found a $600 bottle on the menu. “I think the Selosse would be perfect, don’t you agree Dean?”
For a millisecond I thought I spotted a smirk cross Dean’s lips, a sly acknowledgement that he knew what game I was playing, but when I glanced back, it was gone. Stoic resolve coated his features, drawing a distinct line between where he stood and where I stood. Apart. Separate. We were practically two different species.
The restaurant’s door opened and a frazzled Josephine waltzed in followed by Julian at her heels. They looked love-swept with flushed faces and giant smiles.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Josephine said, squeezing her palms together in a silent prayer that I’d forgive her for being late. “We got held up at the apartment.”
I smirked. “Lose the key to the handcuffs again?”
Casey squealed and leaned forward to bat my arm. “You’re so bad!”
“Excuse me.” The hostess stepped up to our group. “Is everyone in your party present now?”
Dean pushed off the wall. “Yup. Let’s get this show on the road.” He brushed past me, leaving his date behind in favor of leading the group to our table. I watched him walk, wholeheartedly perplexed by him. The hostess tried to make small talk, but his answers were clipped and disinterested.
“I swear he’s not always like this,” Josephine whispered as we walked side by side through the restaurant.