Page 49 of Only for Love

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Emma

Vevy’s is rocking. It’s a fancy steakhouse with a bar that makes colorful drinks in snazzy glasses. Creative Direct has a corporate account here to entertain clients, and they spend a serious amount of dough, which is why the bartender has turned a blind eye to my birthday not actually arriving for two more days.

My co-workers mill around, wishing me a happy birthday. Even Jeremy dropped in for two point five seconds and another boss-appropriate side hug. I’m playing the part of the birthday girl, but I can’t stop staring at my phone.

At first I was convinced Cherry would call with a crying Cally. So I called Cherry. Twice. Both times, Cally was absolutely fine with not having seen me since this morning. She even toldmeI would be okay. Maybe my snugglebug is growing up faster than I’m ready for.

But that’s not the only reason I keep looking at my phone. For every sip I take, I stare at my cell and slowly drain its battery.

“Thinking about Grayson or Cally?” Sarah asks.

“Oh… um, both.”

She nods. “So if you’re not going to tell Cherry right away, I assume Ryan will be told… never?”

God, Sarah’s right. If my brother finds out Grayson’s alive and back in the States, Summerland’s favorite rookie cop might just kill the guy.

The shoulder-to-shoulder crowd shifts behind me.

“Happy birthday!”

I turn around and see some of the girls from Emerald’s. New faces, but really, there are always new faces. The turnover there is ridiculous. Sarah knows I’m friendly with them, and most of them wouldn’t turn down a party, much less the only time I’ll probably ever go out for drinks.

“Hey, girls!”

My fake excitement rings true to them, and we do the necessary small talk. This isn’t exactly what they’d picture for a twenty-first birthday party, but they’re sweet to show up at Sarah’s last-minute invitation.

“Bruno sends his love.” Dominique, who has been there the longest out of the girls here, holds a card.

My cocktail buzz has me more giggly than I’m used to. Bruno sending a birthday card is like Sarah jumping on the bar to strip—it won’t happen unless there’s a catch. I’m unsure about opening the card in public, but Bruno has some tact. I think. “What is it?”

“No idea,” she says, handing it over. “But we’re all dying to know.”

I set my drink down and rip open the card. It’s on thick card stock withEmerald’sembossed along the top.

Happy birthday, Ginger. I have a business proposition for you now that you’re an old lady. Forget the past, grab the future, and go get laid.

x, Bruno

His scrawl is in thick, dark ink, and I pull the card to my chest as if everyone can see it. My cheeks go hot, and the girls’ eyebrows go up. A dozen questioning eyes are on me.

“What’d it say?” Sarah asks.

The Emerald’s girls would never ask anything that’d invade Bruno’s privacy, but they’re dying to know too. It’s written all over their pretty, made-up faces.

“Happy birthday and to go have fun.”

“I bet.” Dominique’s smiling. She’s the only one senior enough to risk nosing into Bruno’s business, even if he’s not around.

“Hey.” The bartender nods for my attention. “Birthday girl.”

“That’s me.” I tuck the card deep into my purse, and our little stripper circle breaks up as the girls mingle, leaving me to fidget on the bar stool.

“Guy over there sent you this.” He slides a shot of something dark with whipped cream on top to the edge of the bar.

I catch the guy’s eye and wave. Cute but not my type. No one is ever my type, even on my birthday with a direct order from one boss to get laid and with another boss trying to ease all the responsibility in my life. “Thank you.”

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