4
As my Uber gets closer to the Evening Star Tavern, I start to rethink this plan to meet Dr. Leo. Am I really going to be able to charm this guy enough to convince him to ditch whatever his Christmas Eve plans are and spend them with my family?
“He’s heard all about you!” Wit Wit assured me as she helped doll me up for the evening.
Now, pulling down the hem of my silver, sequined minidress, I hope that, combined with my sister’s praise, is enough to impress him.
My dress goes perfectly with Olivia’s Silver Bells wedding theme.
But my black puffer coat is only waist length, which won’t help me much in the thirty-degree weather outside.
My black stiletto boots leave most of my thigh exposed.
I had considered wearing black leggings, but Juliet insisted my bare brown skin is a lot sexier. And she’s not wrong.
Final result: silver dress, long hair in loose waves, and over-the-knee-high boots. I look festive, sexy, and sophisticated. Or like a holiday K-pop demon hunter, as my niece declared. Either way, Leo better like it.
My phone vibrates. A quick glance tells me it’s Olivia wondering where I’m at, along with a selfie of her in a white minidress.
She looks stunning, her ebony skin beautifully contrasting with her outfit.
Brooke is in the shot, too, a pink cocktail in one hand, flashing a peace sign with the other.
From their looks, I’m already a couple of drinks behind, which is good, since it means they won’t notice me slipping out of the party to do a quick meet and greet with Leo.
As the car pulls in front of the tavern, I thank my driver and reach for the door handle. It’s magic time. I’m not sad, solo Marygrace who just got dumped. I’m fun, flirty, and thriving Marygrace who’s ready to party.
After a blistering thirty seconds in the cold, I hurry inside the tavern, taking just a microsecond to admire the large double wreaths with stars and crystals and a midnight-blue sash hanging from garlands on the door.
It’s a bit new-agey, but then it’s on point for a tavern called the Evening Star.
Inside, the restaurant bursts with festive vibes.
Every high-top chair is filled with patrons in bright red and green, drinks in hand, laughter echoing throughout the room.
The energy is infectious, as is the killer live music.
Even in four-inch stilettos I can’t see above the heads of the people standing in front of the stage, but I make out a band in holiday gear jamming hard to “Jingle Bell Rock.”
I make my way toward the tavern’s private room where Olivia’s party is being held, pushing through the crowd of people while shimmying to the beat.
Olivia’s bachelorette is in full swing. The space is a good size, with its own private bar where the bartender is shaking jewel-toned cocktail concoctions. A table is set with a festive spread of hors d’oeuvres.
Olivia is holding court at the head table, looking absolutely stunning, even prettier than she was in the selfie she sent.
Around her are a few faces I recognize—mostly girls I went to high school with.
Since leaving for college, I’ve kept in touch with only a few of my crew, but Olivia has always been a constant.
She even went to State with me for a year before transferring to fashion school.
Now she’s a wildly successful small business owner, which, of course, caught the attention of her fiancé—the kind of guy we all fantasized about when were in high school: rich, confident, and supportive of her dreams and goals.
Olivia stands up when she sees me. “Hey, queen. You’re late.” Her voice slurs but the joy is there. I beeline for her table and give her a smooch on each cheek.
“There she is!” Brooke says. “All glowed up.” She giggles with the rest of the girls at the table. “I was just telling Olivia how I literally ran into the sophomore version of you—and then minutes later Robbie Morrow when we left the bakery. I almost refused to believe it.”
Olivia’s eyes widen. “Does Robbie still have those cute dimples I always wanted to squeeze?”
“That was the only thing you could squeeze.” Another girl chortles.
Brooke shoots her a “watch it” look, which I appreciate.
But I also know she doesn’t think highly of Robbie after what happened at the Battle of the Bands competition, and she wasn’t afraid to make those feelings known to him afterward.
I sigh. The last thing I want to think about tonight is my high school ex—or how my friendship with Robbie ended.
I take a seat next to Olivia. “Congrats on your engagement,” I say. “Your fiancé is hot.”
“STAR-Bae quality.” Brooke flashes a quick, knowing smile.
“STAR-Bae quality!” Olivia repeats with a laugh.
She lifts her glass for a toast. “I haven’t thought about that for years, but hell, we must’ve manifested our guys.
” Olivia taps Brooke’s glass with a wink.
I wonder if Brooke’s beautiful boyfriend is here.
Remembering the way he looked at the bakery, I’d say he definitely is the epitome of STAR-Bae.
Olivia taps my glass conspiratorially.
“Speaking of STAR-Bae.” Olivia points to someone near the door. “That guy popped in earlier asking for you, Marygrace.”
I turn to find a man with large hipster-like glasses, pale skin, and a thick brown beard that matches his neatly styled hair.
He looks like the type of guy who spends his weekends in used bookstores and his nights listening to his obscure indie rock vinyl collection.
As he chats with the bartender, I notice he has the brightest white smile I’d ever seen.
He catches my eye and gives me a playful salute. I take a deep breath. This must be Leo.
I turn to excuse myself, but Olivia is already doing another round of shots with some girls I don’t recognize, so I walk up to Leo instead.
His face brightens as I approach. “Marygrace?” he asks.
“Yes, are you Leo?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Want to get a drink?” His teeth are so white they could probably be seen from space.
“Sure.” I look over his shoulder, where Olivia and the girls have left the table and started dancing.
My face heats as a couple of girls holler at me and Leo to join.
“Actually, want to go to the main restaurant and listen to the band?” Which would be my preference regardless of the catcalls from my friends.
Doesn’t matter that I haven’t sung in or been part of the music scene in years, I still love a good band.
He brightens and agrees.
In the main room, the band has switched to a very solid rendition of “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” The vocals and harmony of all the band members together are solid. It’s hard to find people whose voices blend so nicely together. Kind of like dating.
But as we settle into a high top near the stage, my jaw drops.
It takes me all but five seconds to recognize that the lead singer rocking a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit is none other than Audrey Malby.
Audrey was in glee club with me and Robbie.
She was a year younger than us and always competitive for lead roles in our songs, which I would often land.
It didn’t make us the best of friends. But now, my cheeks warm seeing her up onstage, doing her thing. Well, good for her.
I glance at the rest of her band to see if there is anyone else I recognize. Two elves on base and guitar, and a Santa rocking a full fake beard and a jolly belly on the keys. Cute.
“She’s great,” Leo says, with a nod at the band.
Before I can respond, a server promptly brings us two waters and asks for our orders. Leo goes for a vodka soda with splash of lime.
“Gentle on the teeth,” he says, and his gaze flicks down to my lips. But not in a sexy way.
Shit. I repress an impulse to cover my mouth. Are my teeth white enough?
“I’ll do the same,” I say quickly, handing the waiter my menu. I was eyeballing the chocolate espresso martini, but suddenly it feels wrong to be having a coffee product in front of a dentist.
“I feel like I know you already,” Leo says over the music.
I laugh. “How is that possible? We literally just met.”
Leo adjusts his glasses. He has kind eyes; I’ll give him that. “Your Tita Pinky and sister are patients at my practice. They’ve spoken so highly of you. I love that you like kids.”
I nearly choke on my water, suddenly feeling kind of guilty that I agreed to go on this date at all. This man is clearly looking for something serious—which I suppose I am, too, but kid talk on the first date? “I don’t know anything about you except you’re a dentist.”
He smiles, flashing those pearly whites again. “Ask away.”
I search for any question, but my mind is suddenly blank.
“So, is Leo short for anything? Like Leonardo?” It’s the best I can do. “Or is Leo like your horoscope?”
He frowns. “I’m not into horoscope stuff. I think magic and fantasy is kind of a waste of time, y’know?”
“Oh,” I say, surprised by the intensity of his voice.
“That’s good, because if you were a fire sign it wouldn’t mix with my water sign.
” He blinks, unamused. He definitely wouldn’t be a fan of Yuletide Court, or of pretty much anything else I like to watch or read.
But is that what I want in a partner? Before I can even answer that question to myself, Leo speaks again.
“Leo is short for Leon.”
“Leon?” I blink. “But… that’s just one letter off.”
“Yeah, my parents really liked Leon Panetta. You know, the CIA director?” His laugh reminds me of one of my nephew’s squeaky toys. “There’s actually a great documentary about the CIA on Netflix.”
Right, we definitely wouldn’t be into the same shows.
“Wow, the CIA? That’s so… interesting.” I tug at my dress, and squirm uncomfortably on my high-top chair. “Did your parents want you to be a spy instead of a dentist?” I chuckle at my own joke.