Chapter 30
Asher
The only thing harder than pretending to be in a relationship at the wedding of your enemy is pretending not to be in a relationship in front of your best friend.
Pretending to be in a relationship with Harper isn’t hard. My feelings for her were already starting to show. Gloating in front of Daniel Colby was going to be an awesome way to spend a Saturday.
Saturday night was even better. I had no intention of taking advantage of her, and I like to think it was all led by Harper. She initiated everything, and once I was sure that she was sure, I took the lead.
Guessing by her smile the next morning when she joined me in the kitchen for bagels and coffee, I don’t think she felt a sliver of regret. I don’t love keeping our relationship from Jaylen, but it is kind of fun sneaking around.
“Ash, I need you to look at something,” Harper says as she walks into my office wearing a pencil skirt and a white button down.
That shirt is doing its best to stay buttoned where her perky little tits are concerned.
She has her hair in a high ponytail and is wearing glasses.
I’ve noticed she only needs them when she’s reading or using her laptop.
She looks like a librarian, and it’s sexy as fuck.
“Oh, trust me, I’ve been looking at it all day, and it looks great,” I tease. Harper is lost for a moment, looking up at me with her brows stitched together. Then she realizes what I’m saying and rolls her eyes while blushing.
“I’m talking about the social media post about the new speakeasy.
There are a million comments from people wanting more information, and I’m wondering if we need to post some kind of teaser to keep them interested.
Maybe some sneak peek cocktails and moody lighting, or a glimpse of the bar top?
“We could do little things to show people that we have a new hot spot coming,” she paused mid-sentence before asking, “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Just looking at you,” I say, getting up from my chair.
“Are you even paying attention?” she asks with a hint of professional impatience in her voice, and I have to admit, I kind of love it. I love that she cares about my restaurants and that she is so easy to ruffle.
“Yes, I’m paying attention,” I say, walking over to her and pulling her against me. “I’ve been paying attention all day.” I bury my face into her neck, smelling the flowery scent from her shampoo and the sweet scent that is just her. I kiss her neck.
“Ash,” she protests, even though I can hear the change in her breath. “Asher, we can’t do this. He could walk in,” she says, but her body contradicts her words, melting into mine.
“He’s not going to walk in,” I insist. “He’s on a call with Everest.”
“Everest?” she asks as I nibble at the soft skin just below her ear.
“The gin company,” I say.
“Oh. Right,” she breathes, and I graze my teeth along her neck.
I take her face in my hands and kiss her.
She responds by arching her back, pressing her body into mine, and coming up on her toes.
I work my jaw to push the kiss even deeper, and we both get lost in the kiss.
Her hands rake through my hair, while my hands wander down to her firm little ass that looks fucking unreal in this skirt.
I bite her lip, and she moans into my mouth. Her fingers run down my neck and over my chest hard enough to leave claw marks. She seems to have a thing for my chest, and I make a mental note to do more presses.
After giving her ass a good squeeze, my hands travel up her back, around to her navel, and up to her breasts. I cup them in my hands, loving how they feel under the tightness of her blouse. I rub my thumbs over her nipples, making her whimper into my mouth.
“Ash, we shouldn’t,” she murmurs, even though her body language contradicts her words. “He’s going to see us.”
“I told you he’s on a call. He’s not going to–”
“Jesus Christ, you will not believe the deal I just landed!” We hear Jaylen’s voice tunneling from his office.
Harper and I rip apart just in time for him to come walking through the door.
He’s grinning, which tells me he didn’t see anything.
Plus, whatever he’s excited about has him distracted enough that he doesn’t notice me fixing my hair or Harper straightening her blouse.
“A deal?” I ask. “What deal?” I clear my throat and fold my arms across my chest. I attempt to look interested even though I am struggling to catch up right now.
“With Everest! They do have lavender-infused gin, which will work great for those floral martinis people are asking about. But guess what else?” he asks, and we both just stare at him. I hear Harper swallow, and Jaylen’s eyes narrow slightly. “Am I missing something here?” he asks.
“No,” Harper says.
“So why do you look like you used to when you got in trouble for stealing cookies from the jar on the counter?” he asks Harper.
“We were just talking about–” I start, but Harper cuts in.
“Daniel,” she says.
“Daniel?” he arches an eyebrow, and I’m pretty sure my face is making the same expression until I fix it.
“Yeah,” she waves it off. “He copied…one of our…appetizer recipes.”
“Which one?” he asks.
Yeah, Harp? Which one?
I am silently praying she actually knows what appetizers we have on our menu.
“Buffalo chicken dip,” she says, and I thank God.
“You were discussing buffalo chicken dip,” he states, looking at me. I nod.
“Yeah, but his is trash compared to ours, so–”
“Listen, fuck buffalo chicken dip. Everest just started bottling absinthe.”
“Absinthe,” I echo. He now has my full attention.
“And thanks to your boy here, they want their premier to be at our opening.”
“They’re partnering with us for absinthe, too?” I ask. Absinthe isn’t all that rare, especially in Colorado. Absinthe from a company like Everest would be a very big deal in the bar world and could give the new place an edge.
“Yep. They wanna meet with us at the new location.”
“Well shit,” I say, grabbing my jacket. “We’ll meet you there.”
Jaylen smiles, and then his eyes bounce between us for a moment. There’s something in his expression, but a second later it’s gone and he heads out.
“That was too close,” Harper says after he is out of earshot. My brain is still on the absinthe bit though.
“Grab your things,” I tell her, and Harper just looks at me. “What? You’re coming too, obviously.”
“To the new speakeasy?” she asks.
“Of course. You’re a part of Levine St. James now. As my personal assistant, I am going to need you by my side, especially with new endeavors,” I say with a wink. Harper smiles, and we head out.
The Gatsby Underground is tucked away beneath the streets of central Denver.
It’s right smack dab in the busiest bar district, but invisible to the naked eye.
That’s the M.O. for speakeasies. During Prohibition, while alcohol was banned, bars were still running below the police-patrolled streets, with jazz music, dancing, and of course, booze. Lots and lots of bathtub-brewed booze.
Ours is no different except alcohol is no longer illegal.
The concept has stayed the same for most speakeasies around the country.
Many of them are located underground or in a hidden room off to the side of another business.
Some use payphones where you have to call a number to get inside.
Others have slatted doors where a concierge will open the door only if you give him the secret password.
We went the password route, but with a little more flair.
“An ice cream shop?” Harper asks as we step inside a cute little street-level creamery called Cherry On Top. Then she looks at the business hours printed on the door. “That’s open till 2:00 am.”
“Hey boss,” the kid behind the counter says.
It’s a small shop with only a handful of tables.
It’s got the charm of a typical ice cream shop with the checkered floors, colorful tables and chairs, and the scent of waffle cones wafting through the air.
On the far wall is a giant silver door that appears to be for a commercial refrigerator.
“Hey Xander. This is Harper. She’s Jaylen’s sister. I’m showing her the ropes,” I say. He smiles, stepping up to the ice cream case.
Harper turns to me, and I pull out my phone. “So on the social media page for Cherry On Top, every day you will find a post about the flavor of the day. A sample of that flavor will get you through that door,” I point.
“The fridge door?” she asks, and I smile. Xander laughs. Harper looks at me again, but I just wait. She looks down at the post, then up at Xander.
“Alright. Well, can I get a sample of your butter rum, please?” she asks.
“Sure thing,” he says. He grabs a small wooden spoon, dips it into the ice cream, and then walks out from behind the counter. “Now if you’ll follow me…” he says as he opens the “fridge” door and parts a set of velvet curtains.
“So the flavor of the day is the password,” she notes. “Clever. Tasty, too.”
We walk through, and the flooring changes from checkered black and white to red.
The walls are a mix of black and dark green.
The countertops are slick, dark marble, and the bar is dimly lit, casting shadows through the bottles lining the wall.
All the seating is leather and mid-century modern, giving the entire room a modern yet vintage vibe.
“This is beautiful,” she says, watching as people move around the room. Servers are busy learning the menus, and two bartenders are mixing drinks. A small stage is being set up in the corner.
“There will be live jazz music most nights, and a rotating line-up of local bands,” I say. “The drinks are bartender-intuitive. Basically, the guests come in, describe their mood or favorite flavors, and the bartenders make something to match. The menu is all fancy appetizers made for sharing.”
I turn and look at Harpers whose eyes are sparkling as they sweep over the room. “So,” I ask her. “What do you think?”
“I love it,” she says. “It’s perfect. So high concept.”
“Is it a place you could see yourself working?” I ask, and she lets out a small, bubbly laugh.
“I would die to be a bartender at a place like this. Are you kidding?”
I smile, opening my mouth to say something, but before I can, Jaylen walks up.
“So the rep for Everest left two bottles,” he says.
Jaylen handles a lot of our vendor communications.
Despite his free-wheeling nature, he has one of the more complex palates I’ve ever encountered, and that goes for food and drinks alike.
In short, I trust him. “They said to see what we can whip up on the libations menu, but I’m pretty sure we have it in the bag. ”
“So basically we make them taste good, and it makes them look good,” I say.
“Which makes us money,” he says.
“Absinthe is a fun one,” Harper says, grabbing one of the new bottles off the bar top and looking it over. “You can make some really unique drinks with this.”
“So have at it,” I say and she stops and looks at me.
“You mean…you want…”
I laugh. “I didn’t bring you here to do my dry cleaning. We need some fresh cocktails that people won’t be able to find anywhere else. And during your interview, you concocted me some of the best drinks I’ve ever had. So go for it. See what you can come up with.”
Harper looks between Jaylen and I, and then with the excitement of a child with a Toys-R-Us gift card, she hurries behind the counter.
“You actually interviewed her?” Jaylen asks, as we watch Harper gather ingredients.
“More or less,” I answer with a smirk. “We had a lot of time to kill during that storm. And a lot of booze on hand too.”
“Hmm,” he says nonchalantly, but my attention is still on her.
I watch as Harper pours ingredients into a shaker.
She seems to know things intuitively instead of by measurement.
The way she pauses and taps her finger on her lip while deciding, then grabs another bottle and pours again.
The way she garnishes the glass, looks at the drink from eye level, and criticizes her own work has the attention of the entire bar.
Bartenders, servers, new shift managers, everybody all stop and watch Harper whip up three very different, gorgeous drinks. At the end, she talks about them, using learned bar-speak. One by one, people taste the drinks she made. Everyone is impressed, including Jaylen and me. Especially me.
“Damn, sis, for Little Miss Prudent, you sure got good at this,” he says, with a grin.
“I’ll take that as the compliment I believe you meant it as, Jay,” she says, and he laughs.
“You kids have fun,” Jaylen says, as the chefs bring out more plates of food. “I need to sample some of that caviar.”
Harper turns and hands me a drink then grabs one for herself. “I think we need a toast,” she says.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. I don’t know what it is, but it makes me feel warm and heavy, in the most delicious way.
Maybe it’s just this place. These types of places have a unique atmosphere about them.
Maybe it’s the chemistry between me and Harper, the naked eye can ’t see it, but it is unmistakably present.
Or maybe it’s the fact that we are sipping on absinthe in the middle of the day.
“Yeah,” she says. “This place is amazing, Ash.”
“You’re amazing,” I say, and she blushes with a smile. Then her eyes dart to Jaylen who, lucky for me, wasn’t paying attention. He’s too busy flirting with a waitress and eating ahi nachos.
“I feel bad,” she says.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because he should know,” she whispers.
I bite my lip, thinking about that. He should.
I know it as well as she does. He’s her brother, and in many ways, the most important person in her life.
Despite the age gap, they are very tight and always have been.
Considering the way their parents were, they had to be.
Of course, he’s my best friend, and in many ways, he’s my brother.
“I agree,” I say quietly. “Keeping it from him isn’t right.”
“So, how do we tell him?” she asks. Both of us watch Jaylen as he throws his head back laughing at something one of the chefs says. Harper takes a sip of her drink and swallows hard.
“Let’s think about it,” I tell her. “We don’t want it to be a knee jerk reaction.”
“No, but we also don’t want him to find out on his own. Or worse, from someone else,” she says.
“Right. But for now? We toast,” I tell her, pulling her attention back to me. “To new endeavors,” I say, and she smiles.
“To new endeavors.”