Besides feeding Joe and providing stability for Murray, this place does so much more for so many people. It’s a place for someone to come after work and relax. It celebrates camaraderie. Couples enjoy the steak specials and dance to local live bands on Friday nights. Lonely hearts venture in looking for love … or a one-night stand.
No judgment.
It feels just as good to be a part of it as it does the team at Mason. Even if Oliver is a little jealous.
His broodiness was so hot.
We’re exclusive.
“What are you all smiley about over there?” Paige asks. “Oh! You went to the gala last night, didn’t you? I saw it on the news this morning.”
“I did.” I try not to smile but fail miserably. “It was amazing.”
“I can’t imagine attending something like that. Did you feel like royalty?”
“Um, no. Not royalty.” I think of Marius and watching Oliver with the table of women. “More like Cinderella most of the time.”
Her cute little face wrinkles. “Why?”
“Oh, just … you know.”
“No. I don’t know. But I hope it doesn’t mean that something bad happened.” She frowns. “You’ll ruin my vision.”
I laugh as I finish up Joe’s sandwich. “Nothing bad happened. Actually, some really good things happened.”
Her face lights up with interest as the kitchen door swings open. Murray stomps with a frown on his face and a large vase in his hand. In the oversized glass are long-stemmed red roses—probably thirty of them.
“Holy shit,” Paige says, setting her knife down.
“Yeah. Someone has money to waste.” He thrusts the flowers at me. “Here you go, pal.”
It takes two hands to control the weight of the arrangement, so I set it next to the sink.
My heart races in my chest. A dopey smile takes up shop on my lips, and I don’t even try to erase it. It would be futile.
“Oh, my gosh.” Paige is at my side in a second. “These are freaking gorgeous, Shaye!”
“I know.”
My hand trembles as I lower a stem to my nose. The fragrance is heavenly.
You’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Mason.
“Nate asked me to get some lids for the to-go cups,” Murray says, flipping a chunk of hair out of his eyes. “Can someone get me money out of the register? I’m not clocked in.”
“I will,” Paige says. “Shaye needs to call her man.”
I need to do more than that to him.
My stomach fluttering with a thousand butterflies, I spy a little white envelope buried in the greenery. It takes me a moment to fish it out of the center of the flowers.
Shaye Brewer is written in bold, blue ink on the front. I flip it over and slip out the card from inside.
I hold my breath, imagining what romantic or maybe dirty things Oliver thought up for me. I can’t believe he went to the trouble of sending me flowers already. Was he this jealous of Nate? Or maybe he just really wanted to make an impression.
I grin. You already did that, babe.
My eyes skim over the words. With each word I read, my heart pounds harder.
My temperature grows hotter.
My palms start to sweat.
Shaye,
I’ve found myself unable to stop thinking about you. I’ll be in town for a few more days. If you’d like to meet up for dinner—or another dance—I would be honored at the opportunity to spend more time with you.
My best,
Marius
“I guess you were right,” Paige says, her voice making me jump. “Something really good must have happened.”
“Why?” I pull the card to my chest. “What happened?”
She walks around the counter and picks up her knife again. Her eyes narrow. “Well, you got a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of roses. Red roses, to be exact.”
“Oh. Yes.” I gulp. “So I did.”
She sets the knife down and looks at me suspiciously. “Are you okay?”
“Me? I’m fine. I’m absolutely fine.”
A bead of sweat dots my forehead as I look at the flowers again. They’re beautiful and sweet, and Oliver will not take this well.
Oh, dear God.
I’m not cut out for this kind of drama. I don’t know what to do.
Do I tell him? Will it cause a pissing match?
It will absolutely cause a pissing match. He didn’t even like Nate, and I just said I worked for him. There’s no way he’ll take this many roses from Marius as a friendly gesture.
But it’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything wrong.
But it will complicate my new relationship with Oliver. There’s no doubt about it.
And I so, so don’t need to complicate something so amazing and new.
“Shaye?” Paige’s hand rests on my shoulder. “I know you said you’re okay, and I’m not calling you a liar or anything, but … are you okay?”
I turn and face the sweet girl who I haven’t known very long.
I should call Lisbeth—that’s what I should do. She would know how to handle this. Giving me advice is her job as my best friend. But right now, in the thick of the mess, Paige is here.