1. Margot
Chapter 1
Margot
~ M ay
“Anything else?”
Grady was an imposing figure as he stood on the other side of the bar, tattooed arms folded over his massive chest, blue eyes glaring down at me with disdain.
I wasn’t in the mood to spar with him, not today. Not after the news I’d just gotten from my ex, Michael. I glared up at Grady with the exact disdain he’d shown me, and raised my mostly full martini glass. “Have I asked for anything else? Does it look like my glass is empty, or close to empty Grady?”
He sucked in a breath and clenched his jaw, before he exhaled slowly, as if physically reaching out in search of patience. “Fine.” That was it, all he said to me before he turned and walked away without so much as a look back.
I sighed and turned back to my drink. It was a good martini. The perfect ratio of gin to vermouth, with just a splash of olive brine. Grady, for all his flaws, made a perfect martini, which of course I would never admit to him. But I would tip him accordingly.
“Happy Birthday!”
The roar from the big booth in the corner drew my attention, and then my annoyance. Nina, the chef at Dark Horse, was there with the restaurant manager Devon and his new boyfriend, as well as a few other members of the waitstaff. They were all smiles as they celebrated someone’s birthday, but all I could see was Devon’s grin as he pressed a kiss to his lover’s lips. That small move frustrated me, because it reminded me of my own ex-husband Michael and his new husband. And the happily ever after they’d gained at my expense.
I turned away and waved in Grady’s direction, but he was too busy flirting with a group of professional women enjoying after work drinks to notice. I sighed and let my shoulders fall in disappointment. Why should a slight by a bartender bother me, when my ex-husband is getting the life we should have had together? Why? I snorted in response to my silently asked question, the answer was the one common denominator here.
It was me. I was the problem.
Nina sidled up to the bar and smacked both hands on the counter, her wide smile aimed at Grady, who actually looked up at her with a toothy grin and a sparkle in his eyes.
“Barkeep!”
Grady laughed, finished up with the women and walked to the other end of the bar. He stopped in front of Nina, still giving me the cold shoulder. “What’ll it be Chef?”
Nina’s eyes widened in surprise. “Only my employees call me Chef, does that mean you work for me now?”
Grady’s lips twitched, and I had to bite back a moan at the sight of those thick, pale pink lips fighting not to laugh. “Maybe I just forgot your name?”
She laughed. “Now I know you’re full of it. I’m unforgettable.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he conceded and folded his arms, the picture of patience while he waited for her to order.
Nina sighed. “You really are a brick wall sometimes.” She shook her head, a genuine smile still fixed on her face. “I’ll have two shots of tequila, top shelf, a dark draft, and two margaritas. Please and thank you.”
Grady was already pouring the shots and filling an icy mug with a dark liquid as he gave Nina the total. “Frozen, or rocks margaritas?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the table where Devon cuddled with his boyfriend and turned back with a sigh. “They strike me as rocks guys, so let’s go with that.”
Grady nodded and poured several different liquids into a silver cocktail shaker, and I could admit, to myself, that it was truly impressive that he could just whip up what customers wanted without consulting a recipe book or website. He rimmed two glasses with salt and set all the glasses onto a tray.
“Need some help?”
“Nah, I was a waitress all through culinary school. But first,” she smiled and lifted the shot glasses off the tray, and slid one towards Grady.
I groaned and rolled my eyes at her blatant flirting, which earned me a glare from them both.
“Anyway,” Nina said and lifted her glass in the air. “To the birthday boy. Let’s hope the next trip around the sun is as good, or better , than the last one. Happy Birthday.” She knocked her glass back drained it before slamming the glass on the wooden bar with a satisfied sigh.
“Thanks.” Grady knocked the shot back with a smile so sexy that I pinched my knees together.
Nina shrugged and sauntered off, making me wonder if the woman had actually been flirting with the handsome bartender, or if she was just that cheerful. They were friendly, but that seemed to be all it was, which meant I’d just given the temperamental chef another reason to dislike me.
“Great.” One little comment about how she’d be much prettier with a normal hair color, and since then she’d been borderline civil to me, and usually only when Pippa or Ryan were around to see it.
“Problem?” Grady turned to me and his smile promptly slipped, which really was a shame, because he was handsome on a good day, but he was the kind of man who only looked better when he smiled, when he let go of that masculine facade and let his emotions show. He wasn’t my type of course, but I was a flesh and blood woman who could appreciate what a fine physical specimen he was. Even the bald head worked with his crisp blue eyes and thick red beard. The tight white t-shirt stretched across his massive chest only finished off the look of a slightly bored bartender who knew he was hot stuff.
“No problem, no,” I grumble annoyed at him, or myself. I couldn’t tell anymore. “Happy birthday. It’s my birthday too.”
“Happy birthday,” he said with as little emotion as he could muster and walked away. Again. I shouldn’t be disappointed, not when I was the reason things were the way they were between us, but I was. It was good for me, and probably for him, that we maintained a healthy distance fueled by general dislike. A guy like Grady was fifteen shades of trouble, and none of them were my color. He was trouble in tight-fitting jeans and I wasn’t in the market for trouble. Never had been.
Despite all that, I wished he would smile at me the way he smiled at every other woman in town. But he wouldn’t, I’d made sure of it, so I sucked down my lukewarm margarita and ordered another. And then another.
As the hours passed, my sullen drunkenness turned into a melancholy tipsy-ness that warmed me and made me forget—a little—about Michael and his happiness. Not that he didn’t deserve it, he did more than just about anyone I knew, but the way he’d gotten it was what I had a hard time accepting.
A shadow fell over me and blocked out the lighting fixture above my bar seat. “Ready to pay up,” Grady growled, even sterner than usual.
I looked up with a frown. “Kicking me out so soon?”
Grady did something unexpected, he laughed. “Not quite.” He motioned towards the rest of the bar, and when I followed his line of sight I saw that the place was empty. When I turned back to him, he wore a smile that lacked any warmth or amusement. “Contrary to what you think of me Margot, I know how to treat my customers. Even the bitchy ones.”
“I deserve that,” I conceded, because what else could I do? “But I actually don’t think you’re a bad businessman.”
He snorted. “It’s just my particular unseemly bar that you have a problem with.”
I shook my head as he threw my own word back at me. “That was about a particular event, not your entire business. This place is perfect for many of the events Carlotta has booked here, but not a superstar bachelor party.”
“Right.” He produced a rag and wiped down the bar. “You’re the last one standing, so are you ready to pay? Because the bar is officially closed.”
“I’m ready,” I told him and finished the last swig of martini. It was time to get out of here and far away from him. I reached for my favorite glittery red clutch to pay the tab, and the purse slid off the bar and to the floor, it’s contents scattering everywhere. “Oops,” I giggled to myself and reached for the purse again, only to find myself sprawled on the floor right beside the clutch. “Whoa! Slippery stool,” I laughed nervously, aware of a watchful pair of blue eyes focused on my every move as I tried—and failed—to get to my feet. “Dammit!”