Page 267 of Chandelier Sin
“Thank you.”
“And you, sir?” asked the barman.
“We’ll share a bottle of Cristal.”
He set about uncorking the bottle for us, then plunged it into an ice bucket and slid it our way. Two flutes sat beside it, both filled with sparkling liquor.
“What are we celebrating?” she asked.
“You decide,” I said.
I was struck by her enduring elegance and tortured by her serenity.
“I don’t need a special reason to drink a glass of bubbly.”
Apart for weeks and this was how she greeted me, with a casualness reserved for acquaintances. This felt worse than before when I’d ached for her every second of every minute of every hour.
Her coolness brought me to my knees.
She took a sip of champagne and then stared at me. “Looking suave, Sinclair.”
“What’s with everyone using my last name?”
“It’s just so you.”
Her long red gown clung to her curves and complemented her brunette locks. It was good to see her out of that blonde wig, finally. Dark tresses cascaded in sleek waves around her face, curling over her shoulders. Her timeless glamour accentuated her confidence.
“My condolences,” I said to her, for the barman’s sake.
Spies lurked everywhere now that Jewel had taken over. Cutting out the poisonous pieces of this place was slow but sure.
Eve glanced at the barman. “I never imagined I’d be a widow.”
“I can imagine.” I arched a brow. “Red looks good on you. But even better off.”
“Atticus,” she chastised.
My lips quirked. “How have you been?”
She smiled. “Just fine.”
“Ever plan on leaving that house?”
“Yes, it’s too big.”
“When?”
She widened her eyes with an expression that said “hush.”
The barman moved away from us to chat with another guest. He was finally distracted and out of earshot.
We both exhaled a breath of relief.
“Thank you for these.” I tapped the left bumblebee cufflink.
“I watched you that day,” she said softly. “From the window, when you saved that bee.”
“I didn’t know.”
