I walked as gracefully as I could to the side door and signaled to Chef Lou and his catering staff to begin. I had asked him to hire one server for each table in order to keep things flowing smoothly. The five uniformed people entered with the first course and began serving with a military precision. Lou only worked with the best.
As I observed each table one by one, my eyes were repeatedly drawn to Lucas. I was ridiculously fascinated by watching him in his element. The unfortunate thing was how many times he caught me looking. I hoped it seemed natural to him, a way for the host and planner to be in communication, but I knew the truth was that I couldn’t stop watching... and I had no idea why.
This same dance went on for another hour and a half. Lucas’s gaze tangling with mine, his nods letting me know what needed to happen, me watching him and feeling more and more confused by the prickles of some unidentifiable and uncomfortable emotion.
A lightning bolt of insight hit me between the eyes as dessert was being served. I found him interesting, and not in a textbook way. I was jealous of the people who had his undivided and charming attention. Dear heaven, I wanted that for myself. I’d chosen the worst possible candidate with which to experience my first infatuation. Why couldn’t it have been Jonathan? He was willing and available, and I’d pushed him away. I closed my eyes for a moment against a wave of misery.
At last dessert was cleared, and Lucas began to cleverly and graciously usher his guests out the door. I had followed the stream of people into the great hall as I assisted with hosting duties, amusement making me smile as the last guests left. They had no idea they’d basically been kicked out. When the door closed with a click, I turned to share a relieved smile with Lucas, only to find that he and a woman attendee had moved into the formal parlor and were sharing a quiet conversation.
I stood for longer than I should have, watching the way she rested her hand on his arm and leaned in to talk to him. He wasn’t pulling away, and I couldn’t read his expression—heck, I couldn’t have even if I’d been looking directly at him. When he responded to her with a smile I nudged myself away. I was better than this. Spying was beneath me.
My shoulders relaxed as I entered the now empty room, and I let my stinging, aching, clenched hands release and fall to my side as I returned to oversee take down in the dining room. It had been a smashing success, and confusing feelings aside, I had something to celebrate. Eliza would have been proud.
The catering staff were nearly done clearing dishware from tables. I shrugged out of my suit jacket and hung it over a side table before starting to fold up the tablecloths on empty tables. I worked alone for just a moment before I heard footsteps behind me.
“Grace?” It was Lucas. I turned to face him with a questioning look, hoping my polite mask was firmly in place. “I owe you an apology. Everything went well today. The setup worked just fine. Thank you.”
Surprise kept me from answering immediately, but it didn’t keep my face from warming with pleasure. “One more satisfied customer,” I replied in a lightly teasing tone I hadn’t known I was capable of using around him.
One side of his mouth tugged up as he shrugged out of his own suit jacket and placed it next to mine. He took off his tie, undid the top button, rolled up his sleeves, and began taking chairs down alongside me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he replied in a casual voice.
“I, um, please don’t.” I hugged the tablecloth I’d just finished folding close to my chest.
He straightened up, a relaxed expression on his face that I’d never seen, and passed his folded tablecloth to me. “Last time I checked, you weren’t supposed to tell the boss what to do.”
“Oh, looks like everyone’s helping today,” Ana called cheerfully, offering Lucas a nod as she entered the room and went for another empty table.
“Uh, no, he’s...” I stammered.
“Yes, I am,” Lucas replied, moving to the next table.
“Has he ever done this before?” I hustled to Ana’s side and whispered.
“Nope,” she whispered back, eyes dancing. I had no idea why her eyes were all sparkly, but I didn’t like it one bit.
“Let’s get the after party started,” Marshall’s voice boomed as he appeared from the kitchen. He pulled out a small portable speaker and placed it on one of the shelves before pulling out his phone and asking Ana, “What’s your music mood this afternoon?”
“Ask Grace,” Ana replied. “This is her show.”
“I don’t...” was all I managed.
Ana paused in folding a chair and came to stand near me. She reached out to take the tablecloths I was still crushing to my chest, then pushed me toward where Marshall was holding his phone.
“Tell him what kind of music you want to listen to,” she instructed. “We call this an after... party...”
I looked to Marshall, who was grinning, and back to Ana, who was also smiling, then finally to Lucas, who still stood still, simply watching.
I cleared my throat. “Well, okay. Do you have any Aerosmith?”
“Aerosmith?” Ana’s voice sounded a bit surprised.
I nodded, feeling terribly vulnerable and totally ridiculous as I kept my eyes fixed directly on Marshall. “Yes. The early years?”
Marshall grinned. “I sure do. I have to say, Grace, I never pegged you as an ‘early years Aerosmith’ kind of gal.”