4. Trinity
Trinity
"So how long are you staying here?" Oliver trailed behind me down the long hall.
"Depends."
"Are you always so vague?" he asked.
I smiled to myself. It wasn’t that I was trying to be vague—I really didn’t know.
Macy was one of my oldest friends. We’d known each other since we were in the same pre-school ballet class at Miss Donna’s School of Dance.
Macy had gone on to compete on the dance team while my true love turned to color ways, patterns and art.
We’d grown up with opposite interests and different styles.
But we’d always been there for each other.
I put my hand on the doorknob of Macy’s condo. "Ready for this?"
"I can't stay long," he started.
"We haven’t even gone in yet and you’re already making excuses?" I tsked at him as I turned the knob.
He caught my hand. "I’m supposed to be working behind the bar tonight."
"It’s okay. You don’t have to stay." I pulled my hand free and walked through the doorway.
He followed, letting out a low whistle as he stepped into the foyer.
"Yeah, it’s obnoxious, isn’t it?" I was used to the high ceilings, marble tile floor and cut-crystal chandelier. "Just wait until you see the rest of it."
As Oliver’s gaze darted around the room, I tried to see Macy’s place through his eyes. The scent of wealth seemed to ooze from the air vents. Every surface held some priceless vase or precious trinket.
"Did you bring your friend?" The click-clack of Macy’s heels sounded on the tile before she rounded the corner. "I’m so sorry you couldn’t join us earlier. We’re just wrapping up a dinner party and would have loved having the two of you here."
Oliver glanced from me to Macy and back again. Even he probably questioned our connection. Macy’s golden waves fell in perfectly styled curls over her cream-colored couture dress while my dark hair hung stick straight down the back of my now semi-dry casual T-shirt.
"This is Oliver." I gestured his way. "Meet my friend, Macy."
"The pleasure is mine." Macy reached a hand toward him. "Where did she find you?"
"I told you. He gave me a ride back after I missed the last bus." I crossed the foyer, heading toward the living room. "How about a drink?" I didn’t wait for him to follow. Macy and her impeccable manners would make sure Oliver felt right at home.
"Everyone’s out on the patio. Would you like to join us for a digestif?" Macy linked her arm through Oliver’s and tugged him along.
"That’s an after-dinner drink," I called over my shoulder. "Macy studied French and likes to show off her skills to her stuffy friends."
"Shh. They’re not stuffy." Macy let her arm drop from Oliver’s.
I reached the bar. "They are stuffy. Boring too. Now, what can I fix you, bartender? Want me to make you a proper gin and tonic?"
"Proper?" Oliver must have finally found his voice. I didn’t blame him. Macy had been known to render many a man speechless. "Now you’re taking potshots at my gin and tonic?"
I couldn’t help but smirk as I made myself at home behind the bar and reached for the bottle of Bombay Sapphire. "It was okay."
"Don’t pay attention to her," Macy said. "She pretends to be moody and dark since she thinks that’s how artists are supposed to act. But she’s a big puffball of cotton candy inside."
I waved her off. "Watch it, Donnegal. I might tell your boyfriend’s co-workers about the real you."
Macy stood on tiptoe and whispered something into Oliver’s ear. He let out a deep laugh before whispering something back.
"What’s going on?" I set two thick-bottomed crystal tumblers down on the marble bar. "Don’t make me come over there."
"She’s just telling me how the two of you met." Oliver smiled.
The way his lips tipped up in a lopsided grin sent a delicious bolt of molten heat to my midsection. "The ‘Trinity can’t dance’ story?"
"Now I know why you two put up with each other. I have a childhood mate back in Towley where I grew up. He almost knows me better than I know myself." He crossed the room to stand in front of the bar. "Just a water for me. I’m still on the clock."
"Well Macy and I do know each other better than we know ourselves." I switched his gin and tonic for a glass of ice water instead. "Which is how I know that she’s got a patio full of brainiacs out there who couldn’t carry on a stimulating conversation if their lives depended on it."
"Hey, now. Mitchell is out there, too." Macy clamped her fists on her waist.
"He’s the worst of them all." I handed the extra drink to her and turned to Oliver.
"Mitchell is her parent-approved fiancé. For some reason my bestie here thinks it’s her job to help him secure partner status before the wedding, so she keeps hosting amazing parties and soirees to further his career. "
Oliver nodded. "I see. I’m probably a bit underdressed to meet your guests then." He gestured to his own jeans and T-shirt.
Macy took a sip of her drink. "They’re boring as fuck. I’d much rather hang out in here with the two of you."
"But you can’t." I whirled her around by the shoulders and pointed her toward the patio doors. "Mitchie-poo is probably waiting for you. Go on."
She pecked my cheek, probably leaving a mark. I wiped at my skin, my fingers coming away with a trace of coral lipstick.
"Fine, you’re right. I’d better go check in on him and make sure he hasn’t died of boredom." Macy stalked toward the patio doors. "Oliver, it was lovely to meet you. I hope Trinity will invite you back sometime."
"Me too." He shook her extended hand before she disappeared through the French doors leading out onto the patio.
"So that was Macy." I lifted my glass in a salute before taking a long sip.
Oliver’s brow furrowed. "So you’ve known each other since pre-school and now you’re crashing on her couch?"
"Something like that." I plucked a slice of lime from the caddy behind the bar and squeezed it into my drink. "Although Macy would die before she’d let me spend the night on her linen-covered loveseat. She’s got a guest bedroom with all the trimmings. I’ve been hiding out there for the past week or so. "
"Let me get this straight." Oliver leaned his elbows onto the bar, putting his face less than two feet from mine. "You don’t actually live in town, but you’re buying a building and opening a business soon?"
I took in a breath, trying to fight the way my pulse kicked up a notch.
The combination of his closeness coupled with his unquenchable curiosity put me on high alert.
When he put it that way, it did sound ridiculous.
"I’ve recently returned. Until I find a place of my own, Macy’s letting me crash here. "
He nodded his head, real slow like he was trying to process what I told him. "Okay. So you have any family nearby?" He drained his glass of water before he set it back down on the bar.
"Kind of."
His teeth caught his lower lip, drawing my attention. Maybe it was the three gin and tonics. Or possibly the fact I hadn’t been with a guy in more than six months. But something about the way his teeth worked over that lip made me wonder what it might feel like if he were nibbling on me instead.
I cleared my throat. That was it. Time to put the kibosh on fantasizing about the cute bartender.
I had a business plan to finalize and a score to settle.
As much as I appreciated the ride home—I could still feel the way his backside curved into me as I pressed myself against him on the bike—I didn’t have the bandwidth to entertain ideas of a distraction.
The sound of the French doors opening made us both look across the room. Macy paused in the doorway, a tall, older man in a navy suit next to her.
"Unless you want to get stuck chatting up a bunch of suits about the Federal Interest Rate, you might want to split." I scuttled out from behind the bar and took his arm.
"So I’ll see you around?" he asked as I led him toward the door.
"I’m your new landlord, aren’t I?" I reached for the door handle, but he caught my hand.
"You’re Tapped’s new landlord. I just work part-time at the bar." His thumb grazed the tops of my knuckles. "I’d really like to see you again, Trinity."
My hand warmed under his touch. The warmth traveled up my arm, over my chest, tingling up my neck and filling my face with heat.
"Yes, Mayor Hunter." Macy’s voice floated across the foyer. In thirty seconds she’d be leading an entire entourage of people toward the door.
I didn’t want to get caught up in introductions any more than I wanted to see my evening with Oliver end.
But if I didn’t get him out of there—and fast—we’d both end up on the receiving end of handshakes and pleasantries.
"Okay, okay. We’ll see each other again. Just go." I pulled the door open and practically pushed him through.
The last thing I saw before I let it close was the grin on his face.
Smug and sure, like somehow I’d lost something, and he’d gotten what he wanted.
But I’d spent my whole life as the underdog, living in the shadow of my very capable, very successful siblings.
It was my time to shine, my time to prove myself.
And Oliver might not know it yet, but I was going to figure out a way for him to help me ensure my success.