Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
I’m well into my shift on what turns out to be an especially busy Thursday night.
We’ve got two different private events happening in separate function areas, along with the main bar.
I’m mixing drinks with more confidence now than when I first started.
After all, I had a solid base to start on from the pub back home, which serves great cocktails to go with the gastropub meals.
We have a chef who, incidentally, moved from London to get out of the rat race, she said.
As for me, I learned most everything I know from my dad and a little from Kat here at Ivan’s.
Back home, people come from the city to our small village just for the food, but it’s also a popular stop for the Glyndebourne opera-going set.
I haven’t had a break yet, and it’s nearly ten, and another big drink order’s come through to me.
There’s a queue at the bar, and Jenny and Kat and I share a hive mind, plus Alexander, who’s filling in as a server when one of our waiters called in sick.
It’s great to have him out of our hair for the most part.
The three of us have worked behind the bar on several shifts now, and we’ve got it down.
Jenny’s on pints and nonalcoholic drinks, I’m making drinks for tables, and Kat’s on the bar and helping me out when I need it.
She grins at me as I reach for another bottle. “Look at you go now.”
“Don’t jinx me,” I tell her, expertly doing a pour and then raiding the garnishes.
Kat laughs, and then she leans in to help the next customer at the bar. She talks with someone for a minute, and I glance up when I hear a familiar voice at the same time as she says, “Matty, there’s someone here for you.”
And there’s Florian. He looks seriously at me and steps in front to watch me. He’s still looking as fresh as this morning in his suit. I don’t even have time to process this, never mind talk. “Whatever it is, hold that thought,” I say curtly. “You know what happens when I don’t focus.”
A smile flashes across Florian’s lips, and the amusement lingers across his face. I register that much when I go back to work with only a minor break in my flow.
“Don’t worry,” Kat tells him, grinning, “Matty’s on break after this order.”
“Am I?” I ask archly, reaching for mango slices to go along with the mango vodka and a selection of spices.
“You’re late, actually,” Kat says, trying to hide her interest. Obviously, she recognized Florian.
Heat rises in my face as I make a pair of wine spritzers.
Thank God these are straightforward enough and I can do it without thinking, between Florian standing there, not missing any of my moves, and Kat lapping this moment up.
When I nod that my order’s up, Alexander manifests to take the tray of drinks away like he scented it on the wind.
“I’ve got you,” Kat murmurs more quietly. “Go take your break.”
I hesitate, and she pats my arm. Florian’s still watching me, rapt. But he’s not leaning over the bar staring, thank God, and I sidestep behind Kat and make my way around.
Florian comes to meet me. He gazes at me and offers something wrapped in brown paper. “For you.”
It takes a moment to register. Flowers. Specifically, white peonies.
They’re absolutely gorgeous. I gawp, and I can tell Kat and Jenny are pretending not to notice, and we’ve got to get away before Alexander’s wrath is unleashed.
I can’t make words work out of my mouth right now.
There must be at least thirty stems in the arrangement.
Luckily, Florian comes to my rescue. “They’re in a vase with water at the bottom of the bag, so they will last until you get home later.”
“Florian… I don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve this.”
We walk outside to the street and away from Ivan’s.
“Nonsense. I saw them and thought of you. Thank you so much for your thoughtful gift. I was very surprised when I arrived home earlier.”
I at last meet his gaze. We’re face-to-face on the side of the pavement, the evening Mayfair crowd flowing past. “I wanted to thank you for everything. And… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. My timing was terrible, and I feel so bad for unloading on you in the car.”
“It wasn’t undeserved.” Florian’s subdued. I gaze from him to the peonies in the bag, then up at him once more. “I’m sorry about not talking to you earlier about the purchase plan. I can see how it was a shock.”
I just nod, swallowing hard. “I… I don’t know where the line is between us, Florian. This is all supposed to be fake,” I whisper. “But everything’s starting to feel too real. And it scares me.”
His expression softens as he looks at me with concern. “I want you to feel good. Not upset.”
“It’s… I know we have a deal. And the gala. But… I have to know if you’re actually thinking about buying the Rose to redevelop it. It’s such a key part of Brighton’s arts scene, for the community there. For my friends.”
Florian’s quiet, and he looks more serious now. A small sigh escapes him. “I don’t know if we should talk about this now.”
I frown. “When, Florian? I can’t…” I gesture broadly with my free arm, trying to capture everything I feel about him. “—do whatever we’re doing if you’re planning to ruin my art community.” It hurts to say it, but it’s true.
“Matty…” He lowers his voice, searching my eyes, looking vulnerable. “I care about you very much. More than I expected. I know we have an agreement. But you matter to me.”
I gulp and stare him down. “If I matter to you, don’t buy it. You haven’t said once you’re not going to do it. Tell me.”
Florian sighs. “The sale was already in motion before we met. I won’t lie to you, Matty. Believe me.”
My jaw tightens. I refuse to cry. “You can’t.”
“If it’s up for sale… whether it’s me or someone else, they are searching for a new owner. And I do specialize in property redevelopments.”
I feel sick to my stomach, and I don’t know what to say. So, I just look at him.
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
“Then leave it.”
Florian sighs. “It’s not only up to me. My business partners also have a say too. They’re also aware of the opportunity. There are a lot of factors to consider.”
I make an unhappy sound.
“Believe me,” Florian murmurs, stepping closer, “I want you more than a fake boyfriend.”
“That—” I gulp. “—is not helping the situation get any better.”
Florian’s quiet. He reaches out and smooths the lapel of my suit jacket. Around us, the occasional car passes by. Someone’s honking in the distance. Standard for London, good morning, good night, it doesn’t matter.
I lean slightly into his fingers, which move up to trace my neck, and he catches my jaw.
Florian’s gaze is fixed on me. I lean my head into his hand, and I don’t want to look away.
Everything inside my chest sits heavy. I don’t know how to navigate this.
I’ve never had a boyfriend—fake or otherwise—quite like this.
Uni hookups were one thing, and all the boyfriends I’ve had haven’t lasted more than a few weeks or a handful of months.
Nothing too serious. And this is feeling serious, already. Like the way I feel under my ribs.
“May I kiss you?” Florian asks quietly.
I nod, and then our lips meet. I close my eyes, savoring his kiss, his nearness. It’s so easy to forget my resolve like this, but at least he knows I’m upset and why. Our kiss lingers, and he tastes sweet. Our kisses deepen for a moment before I straighten.
I look at him, troubled. “I have to get back to work,” I whisper.
“I know.” Florian’s subdued, his hands resting on my shoulders for a moment before he releases me. I just want to press into his arms, but it’s not helping anything if I do. Other than make things worse.
I swallow hard. “Do you still want me to come as your fake date to the gala?”
The word fake sounds hollow to my ears.
“That’s up to you. You don’t need to tell me tonight. Take a few days to think about it. It’s not for a couple of weeks.”
Nodding slowly, I tighten my fingers on the bag. My face is warm. There’s no telling right now which side is winning out, other than my well-honed flight instinct. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Florian agrees. “Let me walk you back to Ivan’s. My car’s further down.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. There aren’t words tonight that sum up the way I feel.
If only I could go with Florian back to his home and pick up where we left off last night.
It’s what my body wants. Hungers for. Meanwhile, my mind’s telling me this is ridiculous and not to torture myself with someone who’s obviously wanting very different things from me.
Which is too serious for something fake.
I think, quite maybe, we’ve failed hard at fake.
When we reach the entry to Ivan’s, we pause.
Florian looks reserved again, like he’s slipping away in front of my eyes. Like there’s an ice wall between us that hadn’t been there a moment ago. And it kills me, leaving a twisting in my stomach. Having him so close and so far away at the same time is awful.
Except Florian asks me if I want him to pick me up at close to talk some more, and I say yes as my heart leaps.