We walk several paces without speaking, the shared parking lot an expansive maze of cars.
“What do you have after this?” he asks.
My shoulder brushes against his chest as I raise my hand to wipe it across my face. My thoughts are in a million places, each of them spidering to days of being lost among cornstalks that I avidly work to avoid because revisiting those old memories accomplishes nothing. “I, ummm… I need to go meet with a florist to follow up on an unusual order.”
“Do it next week,” he says.
I glance at him, our strides breaking as we both come to a stop. My face must reveal my confusion, because Levi shakes his head. “They’re flowers. Don’t worry about them. You can worry about them next week.”
“They’re a part of my job.”
“Come with me. We’ll get something to eat, have a drink, and just relax.”
“Is that code for something?”
His eyebrows jump. “You seem rattled.”
I shake my head once, but the stiffness of my neck makes the movement so short I doubt he notices my objection. “I’m fine. I just…”
“It’s okay to feel rattled,” he interjects. “It’s normal.” He places a hand on my shoulder and then slides the other hand across my cheek, his fingers gliding into my loose hair.
“I just keep thinking about all these alternative scenarios, you know? Like what if I had parked closer like I was trying to? What if I’d been on a call? What if I’d been late? What if you hadn’t shown up? I don’t even know where you came from—you just appeared out of thin air.”
He points in the direction we came from, back where the ambulance, police cars, and fire truck are still blocking much of the parking lot. “I parked at the far end and heard someone yelling for help. I didn’t know it was you until I got there.”
“How’d you know how to break the window?”
He brushes my cheekbone with his thumb. His eyes reflect humor and an ounce of sadness that diminishes as his lips pull into a sly grin. “If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.”
“Why do you do that?”
He pulls his chin back a fraction of an inch, confusion marring the skin between his brows. “Do what?”
“You were going to say something but didn’t.”
“I think you called it a filter a couple weeks ago.”
Annoyed, I begin to pull back. Levi counters my movements, stepping closer. His hand on my shoulder moves to my other cheek, and all of my thoughts that were spiraling from the present moment return, absorbing the warmth of his touch, the navy specks that pepper his blue eyes, making them appear a more vibrant blue. I note his height and how, with my heels, I barely have to tip my chin to look into his eyes and how his jaw is so square and defined I doubt he gets five double chins when he looks down like I do. Then I stop memorizing the many details of him, my gaze shifting to his. His stare is intense, making my breaths grow shallow with anticipation and desire. Finding that baby girl numbed me, freezing my thoughts in a darkened place where hope and love don’t venture, yet his stare grounds me, his touch bringing me to the present, and his proximity makes me forget about disappointments and lies and believe in something bigger and greater.
Levi expels a breath through his nostrils, biting the inner corner of his bottom lip. Once again, I see thoughts in his eyes that are never translated into words.
“Excuse me! Ma’am!” I turn, seeing the officer who had first arrived on scene, my laptop bag in his hand. “Is this yours?”
Levi’s hands slip free from my face, and it takes me several seconds to recover from the loss of him before I move toward the officer. “Thank you,” I say. “I completely forgot about it.”
He smiles. “You guys have a good day.”
When I turn back to Levi, his hands are shoved into his pockets. The sight makes me imagine him as a teenager, what he was like then. Was he broody? Popular? An athlete? Did he date lots of girls or a single one?
“We should see if Jerry’s here,” he says, and the two of us head inside.
30
I straighten my dress, gazing across the large hall. People are laughing, dancing, eating—having fun. It’s a success, one that has been far easier than I’d expected thanks to Levi and Jerry working in the kitchen.
I slip back to the kitchen, where the two are orchestrating the event. Both have white jackets on, their sleeves rolled up as they share a mutual laugh.
“You’re such a fucker,” Jerry says before glancing in my direction. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you were back here, Brooke.” He glances at Levi, who’s dicing an onion, the blade of his knife racing through the vegetable at an alarming speed. I’ve come back several times to sneak in short previews of the two cooking. While they managed to do much of the prep in the couple of days leading up to the event, they’ve still been doing a lot of work today, allowing me to see all sorts of techniques and work that’s left me mesmerized. I’d never thought of cooking as being sexy, but Levi’s changed that perception as quickly as he did my previous one about loving suits.
“Don’t worry. I’ve called him worse.” I wink.
Jerry barks out a laugh.
“Come eat this,” Levi says.
I shake my head. “I need to get back to work. I just came back here to thank you guys again and see if I can do anything or, more accurately, get someone to come and help you guys with anything.”
“You need to eat something. What time did you get here this morning?”
“I’m good. I’m running on energy, relief, and copious amounts of caffeine.”
Levi scrapes the pile of onions he’s diced into a pan that sizzles and pops. “You’re going to pass out running around without eating.”
I can’t prevent my eyes from rolling. “I’ve had lots of practice.”
Jerry and Levi shift seamlessly. Jerry stirs the pan, and Levi sweeps a fork off a counter, extending it to me. “A couple of bites.”
“I appreciate it. Really. And this looks and smells amazing, and everyone is raving about it, but I’m vegetarian, so—”
Levi nods, waving me forward with a couple rolls of his fingers. “Brooke,” he says. “Come eat this. It’s vegan.”
I pull my chin back, surprised. I feel Jerry’s stare, prompting me to look in his direction.
“He’s been worrying about you. You should eat it so he’ll shut up.”
My cheeks heat, and my stomach does some sort of ridiculous flip. Levi lifts the fork a bit higher, and I move closer to accept it. Our fingers brush, and then he reaches for the plate beside him.
“Miss Renshaw?”
I turn, noticing Mr. Abergal’s brother, his distinctive dark hair and his broad shoulders that turn to look around the space that’s filled with servers and those prepping the plates and dishes going out.
I smile at Levi in apology and put the fork down before turning back to Mr. Abergal. “How can I help you, Mr. Abergal? Is everything okay?” I ask, my heels clicking against the tiles as I approach him.
He smiles. “You can start by calling me Allen instead of Mr. Abergal.” He shifts, raising an arm in an inviting stance as though expecting me to step beside him. While I’m being fueled by coffee and relief, alcohol and the energy from the celebration are fueling him.
I smile, knowing I’m likely giving him false hope as I add a giggle to ensure he’s not offended when I leave a wide gap between us. “Is everything okay?”
“You haven’t been dancing, and I happen to be a very good dancer.” His hand goes to his chest. He looks ten years younger than his brother, maybe more. He’s attractive, his olive-toned skin flawless like his physique and striking green eyes I’ve felt following me for much of the afternoon.
I smile again. Generally, it’s the single groomsman who will try to flirt. Parties and events similar to this are often benign because I spend my time working to be invisible as I ensure things are executed flawlessly, but the Abergal family had stopped by yesterday while I w
as doing final preparations of the space and had brought their extended family, introducing me to all twenty-eight members of the family and successfully creating the façade of a relationship between us. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the DJ. Have you tried the food yet? Isn’t it amazing?”
Allen steps closer, the alcohol reflecting in his glassy eyes. “Not as amazing as you.” His eyes sweep over me. “I mean, your dress.”
“Thanks,” I say when his gaze stops moving northward, stuck at my chest. “Why don’t you join the party, and I’ll check in with you shortly? I really can’t have you back here. With the food and hot stoves, it isn’t safe.”
Levi appears beside me, wiping his hands on a towel, his jaw flexing as he tips his chin higher. “Dean,” he says, lifting a hand in the air, his voice clear over the commotion in the back. A tall, lanky guy with a mop of dark curls looks up and then moves toward us. I recognize him from Levi’s bar that we stopped at on Wednesday. “Help him find his way back to the party, will you? And make sure he tries the tri-tip.”
Allen chuckles and shakes his head. Levi places a hand on my lower back on that spot. He doesn’t step closer or offer an excuse. It’s a challenge, silent and subtle yet distinct. Allen’s gaze tracks Levi, then me. He lifts his eyebrows, and Dean steps closer. “Right this way, sir.”
I should go with him. Follow a few paces behind so that I’m on neutral ground rather than choosing to stay behind—choosing a side. But Levi’s hand is like a magnet on my skin, holding me in place until he slowly lowers it to his side. I slide a hand down my dress, straightening the ivory fabric. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jerry watching us, his attention volleying between us.
“You guys are doing such a phenomenal job. I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything. I’m just going to check and make sure everything is running smoothly out front, and I’ll be back in a bit to see if you need anything.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Jerry calls. “We’ve got this handled. You just make sure you’re being safe, and if you need help, come find one of us.”
I brush away his comment with a wave of my hand. “He’s harmless.”
“Harmless as a grenade.” Jerry moves his attention back to the food he’s cooking.
I take a step away from Levi, my gaze lowered because I’m not ready to see the emotion swimming in his eyes that will likely provide me with a slew of conflicting thoughts. The background noise of dishes and chatter is muted in comparison to my departure, which is deafening.
The rest of the event is flawless. Guests leave after elation tips from their emptied glasses, forks, and smiles, bringing me a sense of relief that never penetrates far beneath the surface, where dozens of conflicting emotions swim.
“Do you want to change, or are you ready?”
I turn to find Levi in a heather-gray T-shirt and a pair of jeans that appear to have been made for him.
“Sorry?” I ask, shaking my head in an attempt to knock the image of him free.
“You said you wanted to check out those bars nearby.”
“Oh, yeah. Yes. Yeah…” My thoughts flutter faster than my eyelashes. It’s ridiculous how distracted and off-balance I feel, yet right now, one smile or promise would likely knock me clean off this axis I’ve been working to remain on. “I have a change of clothes in the back. I just need to touch base with the cleaning crew, and then I can get changed.”
“What can I do to help?”
My balance veers a little more.
“Nothing,” I tell him. “You’ve been perfect. I just need to ensure they have everything. It will take me two minutes.”
His blue gaze travels across my face, and then he nods.
I spend too much time thinking about how I’m walking. If my steps are too wide or quick as I walk to where the crew is preparing to get everything cleaned up.
Once everything is verified and confirmed, I head to the back where my bags are stowed. I close the bathroom door, locking it as I lean against the sturdy surface, my heart thrumming in my chest.
I extract my phone and send a message to Felicity.
Me: I hope you guys are having fun at the park today.
I wait for her returned message, desperate for a distraction. While I wait, I change, stripping out of my dress and replacing the formal piece with a different dress that is shorter and more casual. I add a couple of pieces of jewelry and stare at my reflection. My eyes are wide and anxious. Each moment I spend with Levi, the walls of our relationship realign, and with each brick set in place, another one is broken loose. I don’t know what I’m feeling toward him any more than I do what he’s feeling toward me, and it’s driving me insane.
I check my phone a final time, not finding the response from Felicity I was hoping to find. I drop it into my purse and grab my bags, heading out to find Levi leaning against the wall, his head ducked as he stares at his phone. He looks up as I shift my bags, his gaze lingering on mine for a fraction too long before lowering to my dress. He wets his lips and then bites the corner of his lower lip.
“Ready?” I ask.
He nods, reaching for my bag. It’s strange to have him take the slight weight, leaving me with even more thoughts that weigh far more.
When we reach my car, I pop the trunk, and Levi sets my bag inside, then closes it. “Why don’t we take my car? That way we don’t have to worry about parking or getting separated.”
Separation is exactly what I need right now, but still I nod.
Levi tips his chin, and we walk to his car, neither of us talking until we’re inside the flashy vehicle. “Why do you look so nervous?”
“I feel like I’m going to hurt your car.” I look around at all the shiny details, the flawless leather seats. “It’s so … clean.”
Levi throws his head back, laughing before putting the car in gear, the engine pulsing.
We stop at a bar that’s packed with people looking to share more than a conversation. The music is loud, the bass throbbing through my limbs and chest. “Let’s get a drink,” Levi says, his hand finding that exact spot on my lower back that now pulses for his touch.
This is a transition from the last time we went out together, when we’d hovered just inside the door and even when Chelsea had joined us, we’d meandered to the bar to look over the details. It screams danger.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, looking from me to Levi. Levi tips his chin, nodding toward me.
“I … I’ll have a Long Island, and,” I lean against the bar, the easy smile on Levi’s lips making it too easy to slip into the role of when we were at the club the first night we met. “And he will have a snakebite.”
Levi grins. “Look at you, memorizing my drink.”
“You cooked vegetarian food for me,” I say.
He nods. “Actually, I cooked vegan food for you.” He licks his lips.
Neither of us mentions that I didn’t eat because that would bring the discussion to how Levi had come over when Mr. Abergal came and invited me to dance with him.
Our drinks are set in front of us, and before I can reach for my purse, Levi extends a credit card.
“I owe you,” I tell him. “Let me get these.”
He shakes his head and waves the bartender forward to charge him. “You paid us. It was a business transaction.”
“I’ve hired caterers for last-minute functions, and there are always additional fees. You didn’t charge any.”
A wave of his cologne hits me as he lifts his shoulder with a shrug. “You aren’t charging me extra to help do the grand opening of my bar, yet in general, you hire someone at least twenty weeks in advance. We’re even.”
I don’t argue. My attempts to smile and mention him cooking for me were my attempts at flirting, and it’s clear I wasn’t successful in my attempts. I raise my glass. “Well, here’s to you and Jerry for saving the day.”
“It looked like there was a lot more involved in this day than just food. How about we toast to a successful
celebration.”
“You argue a lot. Just accept my compliment.”
He grins, his blue eyes swimming with words I’d bet my dress on being further challenges. He doesn’t voice them though, clinking his glass against mine. We each take a long drink. I should order some water. I’m so parched that the cold and sweet flavor of the Long Island goes down like candy.
“Did you always want to be an event planner?”
I shake my head. “No. I sort of stumbled into it. Felicity’s parents had hired a wedding planner when she got engaged to her husband, Dan, and the woman was a total flake, so I started to help out. I was twenty and had just moved into an apartment with a friend from high school and was working part-time, so our apartment was a disaster. I mean, there was stuff everywhere. I’m pretty sure my friend was ready to revoke my friend status because of how much stuff I’d stored and assembled in there.” I release a short laugh, recalling those months of chaos. “And one day when I was at the hotel where the reception was being held, I met your mom. One of her employees hadn’t shown up, and she was trying to set up a bunch of chair covers, and I offered to help her. Then a couple weeks later was Felicity’s wedding, and I ran into your mom again. She actually crashed the wedding.”
Levi’s eyes close as he laughs. “She crashed the wedding?”
I nod. “She even sampled the food and the cake.”
He laughs harder.
“Then she offered me a job.”
“And the rest is history, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
He traces the side of his glass with his thumb, brushing away a couple beads of condensation. It’s mesmerizing to watch. “What did you want to be before that?”
I shake my head, pulling my attention from watching his hands. “I didn’t know what I wanted to be. I was going to school to get my degree in communications—with absolutely zero idea what I wanted to be—and then learned I was decent at planning weddings.”
“If my mom hired you on the spot, you were more than decent.”
The Fallback Page 22