Chapter One #3
Despite his earlier vibe, she knew nothing about him really—whether he was married, single, straight or not, or what he did for a living.
Maybe he’d come into the bar because the party was overwhelming and he had social anxiety.
Nothing wrong with that. These type of events could be draining.
She knew that firsthand. She used to attend galas like tonight’s, in what seemed like a lifetime ago, instead of half a year.
Those outings where she’d had to be perfectly dressed and smile nonstop had been back when she’d been someone else, a celebrity managed by not only the studio and record label, but by a controlling father-manager who’d overseen every aspect of her music career since age eight.
That’s why succeeding, all by herself, mattered.
Last September, when she’d started this do-over, even a bartending job had seemed an impossible reach.
She’d had tutors, not public schooling. Having a team of people surrounding her who made all the decisions, she hadn’t learned things like money management. Or how to cook. Or clean.
Who would have predicted she could escape the past and stand on her own two feet?
Or that she’d share a house with a roommate she’d found online, a place paid for with her own money and deposited into her own bank account?
Milestones for someone who’d never had the traditional school/college experience.
Lexi shifted from foot to foot as she washed and polished glassware.
She hadn’t intended to wear the expensive heels from another life, but she’d had little other option upon finding that her roommate, Dawn—who technically was also her landlord—had moved the ballet flats Lexi had accidentally left out instead of putting them away.
Because she’d forgotten that house rule, Lexi attempted to wiggle toes that had long gone numb.
She stared around the vast, TV-free space that felt even more empty since he’d left.
The gorgeous man who’d sat in front of her had been rugged.
Tempting. Far too good-looking. Dangerous as the tingles that one brief touch created.
The shivers still traveled giddily down her spine.
Who was he? Had he been a test of her character, of her adherence to hotel rules?
One such test had happened over at the Beaumont Grand.
Within the first thirty days of her employment there, Lexi had discovered a wallet laying in the middle of the hallway.
When she’d quickly turned it in, her boss had told her she’d passed and reminded her that the Claytons expected their employees to adhere to the highest of ethics.
Whoever he was, he was gone now. Lexi checked the watch on her left wrist—the thin leather band already beginning to fray. She had an hour left on her shift.
“Hey, we’re still going to La Vita è Vino Dolce later, right?” Loretta breezed through. Twenty-eight to Lexi’s twenty-six, she and Loretta had become fast friends once Lexi had arrived in Beaumont five months ago. Loretta worked the front desk and had no clue about the celebrity Lexi had once been.
Then again, Lexi no longer looked like Melynda Norfolk.
She’d lost the platinum blond and returned her hair and eyebrows to their natural darker brown color.
She’d cut away six inches, allowing her hair to go back to its naturally curly state.
She’d kept it long enough to pull into a knot or ponytail, but she’d lost the bangs and gotten rid of the false eyelashes and lip filler.
When she looked in the mirror, she saw brown eyes surrounded with natural makeup—that was when she bothered to wear any—not the heavy caked-on crap that had taken hours to apply.
She saw a girl who was a healthy weight, not one so thin a light breeze might blow her over.
She smiled at Loretta. “Yes, we’re still going to the wine bar. It’s Saturday night, after all. And I’m not closing.” And for once, Lexi had somewhere to be other than the bedroom she rented in Dr. Dawn Dulle’s house.
Alvin, the Chateau’s head bartender and manager, would close Esprit.
While tonight’s gala went until midnight, as the night wound on and the number of guests dwindled, fewer bartenders would be needed in the ballroom, so they would transfer to Esprit.
Lexi was looking forward to a night out.
The outside world wasn’t as scary as her father had implied, especially Main Street Beaumont.
Besides, she knew how to take care of herself.
She’d been naive once. Trusting. Gullible.
Dependent on her father’s will. Never again.
One more step in moving forward—socializing with real friends.
An hour and a half later, Lexi sat in La Vita è Vino Dolce, a two-ounce pour of Riesling strategically placed on the bar top in front of her.
While still in her uniform, she’d unbuttoned the top of her shirt and stuffed the vest in her purse.
Loretta was ten minutes late. Nothing too worrisome as Loretta rarely was on time for anything other than work.
Lexi felt perfectly comfortable sitting by herself and saving a bar stool.
The self-serve wine bar had a low-key, relaxed vibe.
The hundred-year-old former storefront had been gutted.
The exposed brick walls rose a story and a half, making the smaller interior seem spacious.
Most of the tables were full, with patrons serving themselves by using chip cards in the temperature-controlled, glass cases that contained four bottles of wine each.
Her phone pinged with a text: Something came up. Can’t make it. So sorry!
Lexi stared at the sad face emoji Loretta had added.
Well, being stood up sucked in more ways than one.
Because of the plans she’d made with Loretta, Lexi had carpooled to work with another coworker.
Had she known Loretta might cancel, Lexi would have driven herself instead.
Taking another Uber at peak time would eat into her budget.
She reached for her purse and readied to leave.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” A deep voice washed over her, creating prickles of awareness.
“Not anymore.” Lexi turned and froze. “You.”
A delicious grin widened on the man she’d served earlier. “Me. And I promise I’m not stalking you. This is simply a lovely chance of fate. Call it my lucky day that I get to see you again. Now you can actually have a drink with me.”
No longer wearing the tux, he’d changed into well-fitting jeans and a long-sleeved polo, perfect for the pleasant spring night. Hard to believe there’d been a hard freeze a few weeks ago.
Mr. Dreamy pointed to her near empty glass. “Can I get you another? Want to share one of the flatbreads they have? You did eat, didn’t you?”
Lexi warred with indecision, her body zinging electrons and her stomach grumbling. This man was lethal temptation, and he called forth a primitive desire to be reckless. “Thank you, but no. I was leaving.” She drained the last sip.
“Boyfriend stand you up?”
Nice fishing, Lexi thought. “I was meeting my best friend, actually. She just texted that something came up and she can’t make it. I’ll eat at home.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Join me, I’ll do my best to try and keep you company. If I’m boring, you can go. Deal?” His deep smile called a moth to explore the flame, and she found herself tempted to do just that. If she waited, the rideshares might get cheaper.
“I don’t see why not. Deal.” She wished she’d gotten a larger pour of wine, but decided against going to get one now. Two ounces had been enough, especially on an empty stomach.
“Excellent. Good choice. This is a fun place. Have you been here before? I was here the other night. I’m staying down the block.”
“You’re not at the hotel?” That surprised her. So many people had flown in for the gala that the guest overflow had almost completely sold out the larger Beaumont Grand. Accommodations in the Chateau had been so coveted, they’d been near impossible to book.
He removed the wine bar’s chip card from his pocket. “I’m at the Blanchard Inn. I might have had to attend the party, but that didn’t mean I wanted to stay there.”
“Oh, but it’s such a gorgeous hotel.” It struck her that, as a gala guest, he’d probably seen dozens of high-end, exquisite hotels. She had once, too.
“It is, but I like things quieter. Local. More off the beaten track.” He extended his hand. “I’m Liam.”
Touching him was like the start of a NASCAR race, like that one time when she’d once yelled “Drivers! Start your engines” and felt the vibration of forty-three cars each with 670 horsepower cranking and reverberating.
“I’m Lexi. Nice to meet you.” She pushed her empty glass aside. “I’ll be right back. Restroom.”
“I’ll be right here.”
She slid off the stool, onto feet trapped in too-tight heels.
Her right foot wobbled and he was there instantly, standing and sliding his arm around her waist, his thumb pressing against her spine as he steadied her.
Muscled forearms flexed, and she made the mistake of putting her hands on his hard chest, where her fingers froze.
Heat pooled between her thighs. Never had she experienced the overpowering force of instant attraction, or the hunger to linger, sample and enjoy.
His mere touch created little explosions, each one blowing massive holes in the wall of her self-imposed “no men” policy.
The dimples in his cheeks deepened, the indentation in the center of his strong jaw begging to be touched.
His hair swooped back from a high forehead and dark blond strands curled around his ears.
He traced a line from her elbow to her wrist, branding her skin.
She took a much-needed step back. “Thanks. I’ll be right back. ”