Chapter 18
Eighteen
The elevator drew to a smooth stop and an old-fashioned bell dinged over the elaborately sculpted brass door that echoed the building’s Art Deco décor.
A breeze rushed in tinged with a tantalizing mix of saffron and garlic.
Jal hesitated to let the others in the small space go first before smoothing her suddenly sweaty palms over her hips and following, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
She fought to keep her mouth closed as she took in the glittering chandeliers and gilded wallpaper.
The wall of floor-to-ceiling windows at the far side of the restaurant were framed in black, giving the room the illusion that there was nothing between the dozens of tables and the dazzling skyline beyond.
The host’s stand was fashioned like a golden pillar of rock with an angled top. Behind it, a man in a crisp white shirt and slicked black hair glanced up from his tablet and smiled. “Good evening!”
Jal thought of the far different greeting she’d received at Amicetto and smiled.
“Reservation for eight o’clock. I think it’s under Sandoval.
” As she spoke, movement brought her head up to see Elena turned around in her chair, waving at her from halfway across the room. “Ah, looks like they’re already here.”
The host turned to see the wave and turned back, sweeping his arm out in permission. “Do you want me to take your wrap?”
Expecting to go from door to taxi to door again, Jal had wrapped a thick, knitted scarf around her shoulders instead of a coat. She handed it over, taking the ticket he offered and tucking it in her clutch purse. “Enjoy your night, madam.”
Jal straightened one shoulder of her dress as she circled around a couple of tables to the high-top Elena and Lexi now stood next to.
Her friends were dressed in simply-cut, but striking, dresses.
Elena wore blue, the color so deep it could almost be black, but it sparkled like a star-filled sky when she moved.
Lexi was in green, a beautiful apple green that suited her creamy skin and golden blonde hair.
Calligraphy strokes formed leaves that clustered on the bodice and flowed down the heavy material nearly to the floor.
Elena’s brows rose as Jal stepped closer and she stopped a little distance away. “What?”
“Ay nena, where did you get that dress?”
Jal glanced down self-consciously, then looked around the room, eyes landing on sparkling dresses and neat suits, and inwardly sighed in relief that she wasn’t over-dressed.
The fabric that fit like a second skin was a mottled blend of fresh and patinaed copper that made her pale skin glow.
It fell almost to the floor, just heavy enough to sway with each step.
The neckline draped high across her chest, revealing little, but the same could not be said for the back, which consisted only of two thin straps crossing over her shoulder blades, leaving the smooth skin bare until just above her ass.
Her hair cascaded down her back and over one shoulder in a fall of raven-black curls, held back from her face with a pair of glittering, beaded combs.
“The back of my closet,” she replied with a chuckle. “Metaphorically speaking.”
“You should go shopping in there more often, I think.” Elena replied as she kissed Jal on the cheek.
Jal gave Lexi a hug. Her friend returned it warmly, and they took their seats. Lexi studied her for a moment and said, “I think I loaned that to you maybe three years ago,” over the rim of her martini glass.
Jal’s cheeks heated a little as she took her seat across from them. She glanced at the empty chair. “Are we expecting anyone else?”
Lexi gave her a knowing look. “Why? Are you expecting anyone else?”
“Me? Oh, no. No reason.”
Her friends exchanged a look, and Jal was relieved when the server came and took her drink order.
She picked up the single sheet of paper that served as a menu and studied it as if her choice of the half-dozen selections was a life-or-death decision.
With her other hand, she slipped her phone out of the clutch in her lap.
The screen lit, and she glanced down as discretely as she could.
The clock said it was nearly quarter-past eight, yet there were no missed calls or texts.
Relief and concern warred inside her. He hadn’t responded to her earlier texts.
Maybe he hadn’t seen them? Maybe he had and he ignored them?
She hoped it was the former and she hadn’t scared him off…
She suddenly found herself without much of an appetite and set the menu aside.
She took a sip of her wine and turned to Elena.
“How are things with that guy?” she asked. “What was his name? Eric?”
Elena just shrugged.
“That good, huh?” Lexi asked, her voice soft. She placed a hand on Elena’s forearm. “What happened? You guys were pretty hot and heavy for a while there.”
“We were,” Elena’s eyes lost some of their usual gleam as she patted Lexi’s hand in thanks. “And then, we weren’t. I’m honestly not sure what happened.”
Lexi turned to Jal. “And what about you?” she asked. “Tell me what you and Elena talked about at Lima on Thursday, I’m dying to know.”
Jal opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Elena jumped in, the mischief returning to her eyes now that the heat was off her. Jal made a mental note to ask her about it later. “Want the good news,” she waggled her eyebrows, “or the bad?”
Lexi tilted her head and gave Jal a quizzical look. A slow smile spread from whatever she saw on Jal’s face. “Oh, the good,” she said, practically rubbing her hands together. “Definitely, the good.”
Jal put her face in her hand and waved the other helplessly at Elena in permission.
“Well, let’s just say that I don’t have a favorite chair in Jal’s apartment anymore.”
Jal peeked cautiously between her fingers and caught the gleam in Lexi’s blue eyes. “Did you and Ciaran break Elena’s favorite chair?” she asked mock-scandalized, hand on heart.
Jal let her hand fall to the table with a thump and glared at her friend. “See what you started…”
Elena grinned.
“No, we didn’t break the chair.”
“But they did do lots of scandalous things on it,” Elena declared, though she still had a devilish grin on her face.
Lexi’s eyebrows disappeared under her bangs. “Oh, really?” she asked, drawing the word out, her voice rising in pitch.
Jal blushed, thankful that the music and the clamor of the crowd at the bar was just loud enough that their voices didn’t carry very far. “We didn’t go all the way or anything.” Jal said, “but what we did get up to was pretty great, until…”
Her words were drowned out by Lexi’s squeal. “I’m so happy for you! After all this time.”
Elena raised her eyebrow at Jal as if asking whether she wanted to tell Lexi the rest. Lexi caught the look and her shoulders slumped. “What is it?”
Jal sipped her wine, her heart starting to race.
“That’s the bad news.” she said. “There was a little moment when—“ Her head snapped up at movement near the host’s stand as a familiar figure with brown hair shrugged out of a familiar tan coat and handed it to the man behind the rocky pillar of a desk. The man pointed in their direction and Ciaran’s whisky-colored eyes at once met hers.
Elena and Lexi stared at her for a split second before both turned in their seats to see what had captured her attention. Seeing Ciaran heading their way, they whipped back in perfect synchronization to level Jal with almost twin expressions of surprise and suspicion.
“Subtle, guys.” Jal muttered into the bowl of her wine glass, the tips of her ears burning. “Real subtle.”
Ciaran stepped up to the table, his hands in the pockets of a tailored gray suit. His face was calm, and though there were clouds in his eyes, there was an echo of the heat that had filled them since they’d stood outside of Amicetto just before his lips had brushed across her cheek.
Jal’s attention was fixed on him too, her hands twisting the napkin in her lap.
Someone cleared their throat, jerking both of their attention across the table to her friends, both of which were watching with knowing expressions.
Jal leveled them both with an expression that said, “behave.”
Elena waved her off and held out a hand to him, “You must be Ciaran.”
Jal suddenly remembered her manners. “I’m sorry, Ciaran Gray, this is Elena Sandoval and Alexia Wheaton.”
“Call me Lexi,” she said and offered her hand, fingers pointed downward as if offering her knuckles for a kiss. Ciaran, to his credit, took it and bowed his head a little. Lexi smiled.
“Please, join us.”
Ciaran glanced at Jal, who nodded at the chair beside her.
A corner of his mouth ticked up, and he took his hands from his pockets before squeezing between her chair and the one behind it.
She swallowed the gasp before it could escape when his fingers skimmed along her bare back as he passed leaving a trail of heat on her skin.
She couldn’t suppress the reflexive tightening of her thighs, as they squeezed together.
Jal’s head turned, following his every move as he released the button of his suitcoat, revealing more of the matching vest beneath, buttoned high over a light blue shirt and a striped tie, and settled onto the remaining seat.
Elena, damn her, didn’t miss a thing. “So, Ciaran, Jal has told us so much about you,” she said. “And by that, I mean practically nothing.”
Ciaran chuckled and flagged down a passing waiter, ordering a neat whisky and a refresh for the rest of their drinks. The waiter asked if they wanted to put in any food, and they scrambled for the menus and peppered him with selections.