“As fun as that sounds,” he said, “I had something else in mind.”
He trotted down the stairs and gave the door a quick rap. To my surprise, an eye-level slat on the door opened, revealing a rectangle of darkness.
Justin spoke into it. “In vino veritas.”
Now I was confused. But a second later, I heard the thick clunk of a deadbolt unlocking, followed by the door opening.
“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the door, a handsome, mischievous smile on his face.
Beyond curious, I stepped down the stairs. Justin opened the door, letting me enter first.
I was shocked at what I saw.
Past the door was a bar, lit with mellow, soft lighting. Dark colors dominated the interior, along with a long, sweeping bar of brushed steel. Rows and rows of bottles of liquor and wine were behind the bar, bartenders dressed in extremely hip clothing shaking cocktail mixers and pouring drinks. A couple dozen men and women were seated here and there, all of them young, attractive, and well-dressed. A jazz trio played relaxing music from a small stage in the corner.
“What is this place?” I asked as I looked around with wide-eyes.
“A speakeasy,” he said. “Not sure of the name—it changes frequently.”
“A what?” I asked. “You mean one of those bars from back when booze was illegal?”
“Yep,” he said, leading me to a small table in one of the corners. “Though it’s more of a style thing nowadays.”
I glanced around some more, noting to my shock that a few of the patrons were very familiar faces—celebrities.
“Is that—” I asked, my thumb stuck out toward an actor who starred in a recent superhero movie.
Justin raised his palm slightly, stopping me mid-sentence. “Discretion is the name of the game here,” he said. “This is the kind of place where people come to be seen and not be seen, if you know what I mean.”
“So, no asking for autographs?” I asked with a smirk.
He flashed me a grin of his own, one that let me know he understood that I was being silly. “Good call,” he said.
At that moment, an extremely attractive man with a neatly trimmed beard and dark brown hair tied in a small ponytail approached the table.
“Mr. Donovan,” he said to Justin. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise, Brandt,” he said. “Bring us a bottle of something red and delicious.” Then he flashed me another grin. “One with an especially cool label.”
“Of course,” said the waiter before stepping away.
I took another look over the place, still surprised and a little overwhelmed by it all.
“I can’t believe this place is right by my apartment,” I said.
“The best places have a way of staying out of view.”
Another sweep of my eyes over the bar revealed a few more famous faces—one a tech mogul, and another a pair of models whose faces I recognized from the covers of magazines at the grocery store.
It made me wonder—who exactly was this Justin Donovan?
I didn’t pry, though. After all, me prying into the details of his life might lead him to do the same for me, and that’s not what I wanted. Tonight, I wanted to be something other than a mom. As much as I loved my new life with Faye, a night off sounded like exactly what I needed to recharge myself and be ready for the next six months, and then the next.
But for now, some wine.
The waiter returned with a bottle of red. He held it out in front of us, the label displaying an eye-catching design of a beachfront.
“This is a wonderful pinot noir we just got in from the Rhine region,” he said. “And I hope the label is to your satisfaction.”
A small smile played on the server’s face. Then he opened up the bottle, set two glasses down on the table, and poured us both a sample. I took a sip, the delicious, rich, peppery taste filling my mouth.
“Damn,” I said. “That’s some good stuff.”
Justin raised his eyebrows.
“I think that means we have a winner,” he said.
The server poured us more and was off.
Justin raised his glass and I did the same.
“To new friends,” he said.
“I’ll drink to that.”
We tapped the rims of our glasses together, and I allowed a soft smile to play on my lips, one that suggested that I was interested in being more than just friends.
As soon as the thought entered my mind, I was shocked. I’d just met this man, and already I was thinking about what I’d like to do to him—or what I’d like to have him do to me. He was casting a spell on me, but I was happy to go along with it.
“So, Heather,” he said. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Not much to say,” I said, trying to figure out how I could answer the question without mentioning Faye. “I’m an administrative assistant—not really the most exciting thing in the world. And you?”
A strange expression formed on his face, and if I didn’t know better, I would’ve guessed that the look suggested that Justin was hiding something of his own.
The idea that he might be a single father out for a night of fun occurred to me, but I dismissed it. There was something there, though.
“I own my own business,” he said.
Before he could say anything else, a very attractive couple stepped up to the table. When I realized who they were—a famous musician and his equally famous girlfriend—I nearly spit out my wine.
“Sorry to interrupt,” said the man. “But I had to come over to say hi.”
“Of course,” said Justin, setting down his glass and extending his hand toward the two.
“And thank you for helping us out last weekend,” said the musician. “I still can’t believe that you were able to come through for us at the last minute like that—you were a total lifesaver.”
What? Not only did Justin know some of these famous people, but he was helping them out of jams? Who was this guy?
“My pleasure,” he said. “Oh, and this is Heather. Heather, ah—”
“Heather Moore,” I said, sticking out my hand and hoping it didn’t shake from the excitement and nervousness.
The next few moments passed by in a blur. Justin and the couple chatted, and I did my best to not look totally star-struck. When they left, I killed the rest of my wine and tried to catch my breath.
“You doing all right over there?” he asked, picking up the bottle and pouring me another drink.
“I think so,” I said. “Just…not expecting company like that.”
Another look that suggested deceiving appeared on Justin’s face for a brief moment.
“Just a couple of friends I met through work,” he said.
“A ‘couple of friends’?” I asked. “What kind of work—”
I stopped myself, not wanting to pry. As curious as I was, I wanted to keep some of the mystery. Tonight was about stepping away from the day-to-day, not about discussing work—despite the fact that work for Justin evidently involved rubbing elbows with celebrities.
At this point, the wine began to swirl around my head, a pleasant buzz sweeping through me. The mellow jazz relaxed my body, and I felt…calm, for the first time in a while.
“You like the music?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Not really a jazz girl, but this is exactly what I was in the mood for.”
“This trio is fantastic,” he said. “I had a chance to see them in Paris a few years back. And they weren’t playing for an audience of a few dozen, like today—more like a few hundred.”
I glanced over at the performers, watching them work their magic. Even someone like myself, with very little understanding of the genre, could tell that they were something special.
And it led to another question about Justin. Namely, that he was the kind of guy to see live jazz shows in Paris.
“You’ve been to France?” I asked.
“Sure have,” he said. “I travel around here and there for work. I do
n’t get to actually visit much, but I try to check out some sights when I can. And I love jazz, so seeing some live in Paris was at the top of my list when I was there. What about you?”
“Me?” I asked. “I’ve never even been out of the country. But shoot, I’d love to go sometime.”
I did another pass over Justin, this time noticing what appeared to be a very expensive-looking watch. Trips to Paris, expensive clothes, celebrity friends, and mysterious, exclusive wine bars—it took all I had not to ask him everything about himself.
A few moments later the waiter returned, a pair of plates in his hand.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Donovan, but when Jonas in the kitchen saw that you were here, he insisted on sending a little something over for you.”
He set the plates down, one with an arrangement of some delicious-looking cheeses, the other with fruit and nuts. As the waiter described the cheeses, all I could think about was how much I wanted to dig in—getting ready for my night out had been such a whirlwind of activity that I realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. But I tried to have some decorum and not shove my face right into the food as soon as the waiter left.
“Don’t let me stop you,” said Justin. “Dig in.”
I snatched up one of the slices of cheese—a particularly gooey-looking slice of Brie. I popped it in my mouth, letting the rich flavor linger on my tongue before swallowing it down. Next, I took one of the figs, dipping it into a pool of a savory sauce. It was as good as the cheese.
“That’s…amazing,” I said.
“You know,” said Justin, taking a slice of his own. “I’ve put some serious thought into it, and I’m pretty sure I could live on nothing but cheese.”
“Oh my God,” I said, the words shooting out in a smushed-together blurt. “Me too. It’s pretty much the perfect food.”
“Yep,” he said. “And you’ve got a different cheese for every occasion or mood. Creamy stuff when you’re feeling decadent. The stinky kinds when you’re in an adventurous mood. And American, for when you’re feeling, well American.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” I grinned.
Justin and I smiled at one another, and I could tell that there was something in the air between us. The wine and the food and the music and everything else were working in concert to make me fall for this guy, despite only knowing him for a brief time.
And I was ready to get carried away.
We chatted more, talking about music and food and everything else—avoiding the topic of our personal lives, of course. And as we did, I noticed that our bodies drew closer and closer together. We leaned across the table toward one another, our hands only inches from the other’s.
We finished the bottle and ordered another. By the time we went through that one, I was certain that if he leaned the rest of the way across the table and kissed me, I would happily accept it.
But instead, as we both drained the last bits of our wine, a thoughtful expression crossed his face.
“How do you feel about dancing?” he asked.
“I love it,” I said.
I was ready to have more fun with this guy. And whatever else might happen after…well, I guessed I’d have to wait and see.
Chapter 4
Heather
The skyscrapers of Manhattan looked extra majestic as we crossed over the Williamsburg bridge into the city. I don’t know if it was the wine or the thrill of being out or being with Justin, but I felt like a kid again. Back when the whole city felt like it belonged to me, and me alone.
“So,” I said, sitting back in the seat of the luxury car that Justin had hired to take us into Manhattan from Brooklyn. “Where to?”
“Well,” he said. “I was thinking that after our mellow start, we could go for something a little more exciting. Someplace with a nice view.”
“That sounds perfect,” I said with a smile. “And what’s the name of this magical place?”
Another mischievous grin. I was starting to fall hard for this particular smile, I had to admit.
“Just relax and let me worry about all that. You strike me as a girl who needs some fun in her life, so I’m going to give it to you.”
A wicked grin formed on my lips as I thought about what I wouldn’t mind Justin “giving to me,” and I made a mental note to keep myself in check. What if Justin was some kind of playboy, one who loved to swoop up women at wine shops, woo them with exciting nights on the town, and then take them back for a night of…more fun, only to toss them aside the next morning?
I forced myself to calm down, telling myself that I was getting a little ahead of things. But another part of me, one entranced by the lights of the city as we drove over the bridge, wanted to get swept away with it all.
What if he did want to sleep with me and never talk to me again? Would a one-night stand be the worst thing in the world? I’d never done anything like that before, but something about Justin was bringing it out of me.
Didn’t hurt that we were so close in the back of the car that I could smell the attractive musk of his cologne and feel the heat from his body. I bit my lower lip, chewing on it gently as I stole glances of his gorgeous profile backlit by the lights of Midtown Manhattan through the window.
He was something else.
We made our way over to Hell’s Kitchen and came to a stop in front of a modern-looking building of steel and glass. It stretched up into the sky, the evening clouds swirling around it.
“This is it?” I asked.
“This is it,” he said. “Come on.”
I watched as he slipped the driver a bill, and my eyes went wide as I noticed it was a hundred—yet another hint at some secret side to him that Justin wasn’t letting me know about. When I wanted to go into the city, I paid for the train like everyone else. And here he was, generously tipping drivers of luxury cars to drive him in. I wanted so badly to blurt out “who are you and what do you do?” But I knew this would spoil the evening. No, better to get swept away.
We stepped up to the building, the lobby of which appeared dark. If it was an office or what, I couldn’t tell.
“What do we do?” I asked.
“Just keep your pants on,” he said with a smirk.
Justin approached a speaker and pressed the call button. Just like at the bar, he spoke something into it before turning back toward me.
“Come on,” he said.
He led me down a small path around the building which ended in what looked to be a maintenance elevator. The doors opened, a few people already inside. But they didn’t look like service employees—two girls and a couple all dressed in expensive evening wear.
“Justin!” shouted one of the girls, an insanely pretty brunette, running out and throwing her arms around him.
“Hey!” he said, returning her friendly hug.
Justin stepped out of her arms and gestured for me to follow him into the elevator. Right away, I noticed the girls’ jealous expressions. They both seemed to know Justin, and they were not happy that some other girl—me—had his attention for the night.
The elevator rose, going up and up and up. By the time it stopped, I could hear the thumping of a steady bass beat on the other side of the doors. And when they opened, I couldn’t believe what I saw.
The doors opened to a massive club, neon lights illumining the dancing crowds. The space was two-stories high, a huge, modern DJ booth on an elevated platform in the center. My heart raced as I took in the scene, Justin at my side.
“You ready?” he asked.
I wasn’t sure if anything could’ve had me ready for this. But I nodded anyway, eager to get in there and shake my butt. And the delicious wine certainly had helped.
As we moved closer to the dance floor, Justin grabbed us a pair of drinks, handing one to me as we moved into the crowd. I took a sip, the taste of vodka and lime fresh and lively in my mouth.
And then it was on. I didn’t waste any time getting in there moving my body to the music. Justin slid next to me
, his gorgeous blue eyes brilliant even in the red and white light of the club. We danced, our bodies moving closer and closer together with each passing song. Soon, our drinks were gone, and our hands were free to explore each other’s bodies.
Justin placed his hands on my hips, applying just the right amount of pressure. My heart beat hard, and I found myself tossing my hair, my teeth biting down hard again on my lower lip. Song after song passed, and I lost track of the time.
One more song and now we were as close as we could get. Justin and I were face-to-face, his arms draped over my shoulders as we pressed our bodies together. If there was any doubt that he wanted me, it was gone now.
The beat thumped on, and our faces moved closer and closer. I ran my tongue over my lips, inviting him in for a kiss. But right when he was near enough to give me what I wanted, he spoke into my ear instead.
“How about some fresh air?”
That sounded nice, too. But I got the distinct impression he was toying with me, just a little. I nodded, a smirk on my face. Sure, I could play that game. Might even be a little fun.
Justin took me by the hand and led me through the crowd. As we made our way out, I noticed guys greeting him with friendly shakes and pats on the back, and more girls regarding him hungrily before flashing jealous glances in my direction. Whoever Justin was, he was certainly a man who commanded attention. And now that I’d begun to think about it, he did seem somewhat familiar…
Before I could consider the matter for much longer, Justin took me out onto the club’s back patio. The cool evening air was a relief to my sweat-sheened skin, and I had a chance to catch my breath from the intensity of the dancing.
And as soon as I recovered, I noticed the view.
The balcony looked east over Manhattan, the towers of Midtown stretching up into the night sky. To the left was Central Park, and beyond that, through the slats of light between the buildings, I could make out Brooklyn and Queens beyond.
It was breathtaking, to say the least. Maybe the second-most breathtaking view on that patio.
“How you holding up?” asked Justin, leaning against the balcony railing. He looked gorgeous, his ink-black hair attractively disheveled, a few strands dangling over his flawless forehead. Damn, he was good-looking—the type of stunning that it was almost hard to believe he was real.
Baby Surprises 7 Book Box Set Page 35