by Lauren Smith
“I really wanted to work in investments, stocks and trading, but I didn’t want to live in New York. It’s just not the right place for me. I visited Chicago during college and fell in love with the city.”
“What do you like about your job?” Matthew reached for another slice of pizza. Aubree couldn’t believe how well this was going.
“I love the excitement and knowing that when I’m involved on the trading floor, I’m dealing with assets from companies all over the world. It’s weird, but it makes me feel connected somehow with the rest of the world.”
“That sounds like a hell of a good job,” Matthew agreed.
“It is. I work a lot of hours, but I enjoy it.” She paused, feeling so comfortable with him that she spilled her deepest thoughts. “I just never realized how lonely I’ve been.”
Matthew reached for her hand again. “I understand that. When I left Australia to go to the London School of Economics, my girlfriend at the time had to stay in Perth for her own career. We tried the long-distance thing, but it didn’t work out. When I came back, she had married someone else and moved on. Sometimes passion has a price, but it can be worth it to go after your dreams.”
“You’re the first person to ever say that. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me if I would have done things differently in my life. It’s like asking me if I regret dreaming.” Aubree had faced so much frustration with people assuming she was unhappy as a single, career-driven woman. Feeling lonely didn’t equate to unhappiness. Happiness was much larger and more complex than a single emotion.
“So now you’re dating?” Matthew asked.
“Yep, trying to anyway.” She laughed at herself. “I probably waited too long.”
“Nonsense. Just relying on a computer program to match you isn’t easy. Romance can’t be fully discovered and experienced on an app. Sure, it can help you meet someone, but it can’t create that spark.” As he spoke, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her hand and she shivered at her acute awareness of him; their bodies were so close at that moment. His knees bumped hers under the table when he shifted and looked deep into her eyes. People always joked about situations like this, but when a man really looked at her the way Matthew was now, she felt incredible. She felt like the universe included only the two of them.
“You want to return to the bar and discuss that kiss?” he asked softly. His tone was so gentle, so seductive that she was tempted to beg for the kiss right there.
“Yeah,” she replied, her heart racing as he paid for their dinner. When she tried to hand him some bills, he waved it away.
“A gentleman always pays,” he intoned softly and flashed her a dazzling smile.
When they returned to Love Potion #9, things had quieted, and he resumed his post behind the bar. He began to make them a matching set of cocktails. She knew better than to ask. He would tell her soon enough the name of the creation he was mixing.
Matthew added gin, St. Germain, Aperol and lemon juice into a shaker with ice before he strained the drink into two cocktail glasses. He topped the concoction with sparkling rosé before he garnished it with an orange twist.
“Allow me to present… the French kiss.” He passed her one and he took the other, then he led her to a private round booth that wasn’t visible to anyone else in the restaurant. She slid in first and he followed, sitting beside her in the spacious curved seat.
“These are really called a French Kiss?” she asked
“Yes.” His eyes lit up with mischief and she took a sip. Delicious tastes exploded on her tongue.
“Oh, wow. This is so good!” She took a bigger sip. He did the same, clearly enjoying this exchange.
“Are you allowed to drink and hang out with customers while you work?”
He chuckled. “I’m a good friend of the owner; he won’t mind.”
Aubree couldn’t imagine a boss being okay with that, so she hoped he wasn’t going to get in trouble.
“You still up for that other kiss?” Matthew’s blue eyes were burning straight through her.
“Yes.” She put her glass down. “Are you? I don’t want to—”
Matthew leaned in and captured her lips with his, silencing whatever she’d been about to say. Every other thought left her mind as he kissed her. His mouth moved slowly, languidly over hers. He licked at the seam of her closed lips and she opened them for him. At that first caress of his tongue, she moaned. He flicked his tongue against hers, playful and sinful at the same time. He was exploring her, learning her tastes in all the ways she liked to be kissed. He made her feel as though she was the only person in the world. No man had ever made her feel like that.
When their mouths parted, he leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers while he curled his fingers around the back of her neck. Their breath mingled in the closeness of the private booth.
“Challenge fulfilled?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Most definitely.” She wanted to ask him to repeat the performance just to be sure, but she never been that assertive in her love life.
“Matthew… I…” She stumbled over her own thoughts. “That was really nice.”
“Just nice?” His eyes twinkled and it sent wild sparks of excitement shooting through her entire body.
“Amazing,” she clarified. “You kiss like a god. There. You happy?” She returned with a teasing laugh.
“I’m only happy if you are.”
God, could the man be any more perfect? He was killing her with sweetness.
“If you ever want me to fulfill any more of those challenges, I’ll be right here.” He pulled out a card from his pocket and slid it over to her. She saw his name and number along with the Love Potion #9 logo of a smoking martini glass that looked as though it held a bewitched potion inside.
“That’s my cell.” He brushed a feathery kiss over her lips, collected their empty glasses, and returned to the bar before he pulled his black apron on. She grabbed her purse and waved goodbye to him before she headed home.
As she got ready for bed that night, she checked her messages one last time. A new hanky-panky challenge was there from Vesper1.
Labor of love challenge: Take a significant other out to do something new and fun that requires a little bit of work. This is a chance to experience something interesting together. Real love requires a bit of labor.
4
Labor of Love
“Who’s the girl?”
“Hmmm?” Matthew glanced up from stacking pint glasses to see his best friend and business partner, Will Goodman, leaning against the bar with a smirk.
“The girl. Who is she?” Will repeated, his brown eyes glinted with mischief.
“There’s no girl.” Matthew insisted. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to make fun of him. Will had a new girl every week, but he knew that Matthew was a one girl kind of man.
“You were humming Metallica. You only do that when you’re thinking of a girl.”
“Shut up.” He snapped, but Will kept grinning.
“Come on, man. Tell me who she is. I know you’ve been taking different shifts in order to see her.”
“One shift. It was one time.” He had issued the French kiss challenge a week ago and he still couldn’t believe Aubree had accepted and come to him. He’d made one of his favorite romantic cocktails and shared one of the best kisses of his life. He could still feel her petal soft lips and taste the cocktail on her tongue… God, kissing her had been like a drug.
And I’m hopelessly addicted.
“Matt, seriously. I know you’ve been avoiding dating after what happened in Perth but come on. This girl might be good for you. At least tell me about her.”
Matthew set the last of his glasses down on the counter. He knew he better tell Will something or his friend would never shut up.
“She came in here one night and I saw that she had a really bad date. The asshole left her with the bar tab. I struck up a conversation and she’s incredible. Sexy, smart, and confide
nt, except for her dating life.”
“So, you’re dating her now?”
“Sort of.” He wasn’t sure how to express what stage their new relationship was in.
“Sort of?” Will cocked his head.
“It’s more like friends with some benefits at the moment.”
“I feel like you’re leaving some details out,” Will said.
“A gentlemen doesn’t—”
“Kiss and tell. Yeah, I know. You’re a damn boy scout.” Will mockingly groaned and rolled his eyes before he turned serious. “If you really like her, take some time off. The bar is doing great. We can afford for you to take a few nights off with the extra bar staff we have.”
Matthew relaxed. The idea of a fun night off sounded great, but he hadn’t heard from Aubree since he had sent the second hanky-panky challenge to her and he was worried.
“So, when are you going to see her again?”
“Not sure. I gave her my number and I’m waiting to see if she’ll call.”
The second he said that his cell phone pinged.
“I bet it’s her!” Will chuckled.
“It’s not.” Still, he checked the phone and when he saw an unfamiliar number with the message: “This is Aubree Cole.” He couldn’t stop grinning.
“See? It’s her. The universe is listening, my friend.” Will slid onto the bar stool facing Matthew. “So, what did she say?”
“Don’t know yet.” Matthew watched the three dots appearing on the chat screen to indicate she was typing. A second later her message popped up.
“She’s inviting me to a paint and drink night.”
“A what?” Will asked, his look of bafflement comical.
“One of those places where you drink wine and paint a picture or something. Usually there are other people there.” He had to admit he was a little disappointed.
Will used his hand to imitate a crashing plane including dramatic sound effects of an explosion. “Sorry bud but sounds like a strikeout. She’s basically taking you to a chick thing. She’s knocked you off the bed list and into the friend zone.”
Matthew typed in a quick reply asking for details and ignored his friend. Aubree messaged back the address and a time for that night at eight PM.
“You okay with me leaving tonight at 7:30?” he asked.
“Sure, sure. Paint something nice,” Will snickered. “Maybe we can hang it up in the bar.”
“Shut up, asshole!” He laughed as he threw a towel at his friend. Will caught the towel and flung it back before heading toward the kitchen on the restaurant end of the bar.
Matthew worked until 7:30, then called a taxi to take him to the painting place. When the car stopped in front of the shop, he got out and cringed as he saw a dozen women seated around easels, wineglasses in one hand, and paintbrushes in the other. He had nothing against wine, women, or painting, but a man belonged nowhere near them when all three were combined.
“Matthew!” Aubree called out his name from the doorway. He rushed up the steps and inside the shop while she held the door for him. When she closed the door, he got a good look at her. She wore jeans and a soft white cashmere sweater that hugged her curves just right. Her hair was in lush auburn waves around her face and she wore just a hint of makeup. God, she was so fucking gorgeous.
“Hey…” she greeted softly as her lashes swept down across her cheekbones shyly.
“Hey…” He replied, unable to resist reaching up to bury his fingers in her hair. It glowed in the soft lights, rich and dark with hints of red and gold, like autumn leaves.
“Sorry, I didn’t text you sooner this week. Work’s been hectic.”
“Never apologize,” he replied. “I was worried I scared you off.”
She bit her bottom lip and he fought off the urge to grab her hair and kiss her hard, maybe even bite that lip himself.
“You didn’t scare me. You kiss like a dream.” Her breathless response made him grin and lean down, feathering his lips over hers. Given enough time, he could show her all the different ways he knew how to kiss.
“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “We’re in the back.” She led him by the open room of women painting. They all paused to stare.
“Whew, girl. You’re one lucky woman!” Someone called out. Heat rose underneath Matthew’s shirt collar and he plucked at it as he passed the women.
“We aren’t painting with them?” Matthew asked Aubree.
“Oh God, no. I’m not that mean.” She laughed and pulled the handle of a roughhewn wooden door that opened into a private studio. But there were no easels, no paint, no one else. Instead, there were piles of wooden boards, stencils and paint.
“I thought this might be more fun.” She nodded at the room. “We’re going to make handmade signs. Does that sound fun?”
Actually, it did. Matthew loved working with his hands.
“Yeah, this is great.” He let her lead him to a rack where he removed his coat and rolled up sleeves. Aubree pushed up her sweater sleeves and motioned for him to join her by the wood pile.
“Choose four boards and we’ll sand them. Then we’ll paint a base coat and choose a stencil set. After that, you paint your words in your second paint color over the base color.”
“This is seriously cool.” Matthew grinned. “So, what’s the occasion?”
Aubree blushed. “I got another hanky-panky challenge.”
“Oh yeah?” He remained calm and casual. He didn’t want her to know yet that he was the one sending her the challenges.
“Uh huh.” She continued. “This one is called labor of love. You are supposed to do a fun activity that requires a little bit of work with someone you care about.”
“I like that.” He selected four pieces of walnut wood planks and she chose maple, then they headed to the sanding station. They worked on sanding the wood planks, while talking and laughing as they prepared their projects.
“Oh! I totally forgot.” She rushed over to a cooler by the door. “The drinks. Did you know there’s a Labor of Love cocktail?”
“I do.” He laughed.
“Of course, you do, Mr. Bartender. Want to show me how to make some?”
“I’d be happy to.” He left his sanded wood in a stack and they both washed their hands in the. Then he helped her lay out the supplies for the drinks. She’d come well prepared.
“You muddle the basil, rosemary, lime juice and simple syrup in the mixing glass.” He tossed in all the ingredients and used the bar spoon to crush them together as best he could. “Then you add the citrus vodka and two spoons of chartreuse before shaking with ice.” He handed her the shaker and she completed the process. “Strain it into two highball glasses over more ice and stir in the club soda, then top with a bit of pomegranate juice and garnish with a sprig of fresh rosemary.” He handed her one of the two glasses.
“I like this one,” she said after a quick sip.
“Me too.” He took a taste and nodded to himself. “So, we sanded. What’s next?”
“We paint the boards with a base coat.”
Matthew chose black as his under color and a white paint for his words. Aubree chose a light khaki for her base coat and black for her words. After they painted the base coat and waited for it to dry, they collected the stencils for the quotes they wanted to paint on their sights. They worked in a quiet but pleasurable silence as they laid their stencils down and painted letters upon the board. When they were both done, Aubree looked up at him from across the table in excitement.
“You show me yours first,” he said.
Blushing she revealed her sign. It read: “Love is friendship that has caught fire.” The name Ann Landers was written beneath it. She had used different stencils for the words friendship and fire so they were bolder and cursive.
“Now you,” she said, grinning.
Matthew turned his sign to face her, his heart hammering and his hands a little sweaty with nerves. She read the words aloud, her face glowing.
“I lo
ve her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything. – F. Scott Fitzgerald.”
When her eyes met his, he saw a heartrending longing in them and his heart flipped. He was entranced by her, this gorgeous, smart, and fun woman. Something intense, indescribable but overwhelming, flared between them.
“Matthew, would you like to get out of here?”
“What?” He was confused. He thought the night was going well.
“I mean, do you want to come home with me?”
Beneath the heat in her eyes, he saw vulnerability. She was afraid of rejection.
“Yes. More than anything,” he promised.
Relief washed over her face. “Leave the signs. We can pick them up tomorrow when they’re dry.”
They packed the ice cooler and Matthew carried it outside and down to the curb while she hailed a cab. Once they were sitting next to each other, he reached across the black leather seat, clasped her hand in his and squeezed it. She squeezed his hand back and he felt like he was wrapped in visible warmth. Being with her was so easy. Had it ever been this easy with any woman before? If so, he couldn’t remember.
When they reached her apartment, he helped carry the cooler into the elevator. She really did live just a block from the bar. Inside his building, in fact. When she got off on the same floor as his apartment, his mouth fell open in shock.
“What?” she asked as she inserted her key into the door.
“I live across the hall from you.” He pointed to the door six feet away from her.
“You do?” She stared at him.
“Yeah… Talk about a small world.”
“How come we’ve never met?” She opened the door and he stepped inside her apartment.
“Different work schedules, I guess. I stay up until three AM and don’t leave for work until noon.” He still couldn’t believe the odds though.
“You can put the cooler by the fridge.” She pointed toward the kitchen.
He set it down by the stainless-steel appliance and looked around her apartment. She had a cozy leather couch and a big flat screen TV along with a gas fireplace. There was a large desk covered with papers in one corner of a small second-half room just off the living room. Prints of famous paintings hung on the walls. No landscapes. Just people. It made him think that she really did love people and want to connect with them. She was so open, so warm. It fit. He noticed her watching him.