Page 20 of Sing For Me

“Good show!” Neil exclaims.

“No, you’ve got the good show, sir,” Ben says, clearly recognizing Neil.

Ben acts nothing like his tough exterior. He’s easy-going, polite as he shakes Neil and then Kelly’s hand and tells them he’s a big fan. But he’s not too star-struck to look between me and Eli as he turns his attention our way, giving me a kind of insider smile. “Eli’s been keeping secrets,” he says.

Kelly’s eyebrow goes up, sending nerves spiking across my stomach. Hopefully she doesn’t read anything into that.

“You have a great menu,” I say. It’s a weird thing to say for non-industry people, but Ben beams and I’m relieved as we easily slip into shop talk.

I’ve been here before—it’s part of my job to know all the good restaurants in town—but I didn’t know the owner was a good friend of Eli’s. Before tonight I probably would have avoided it for that reason. But I feel everyone’s eyes on me, and I remember I’m supposed to be putting on a show. I look over at Eli and smile awkwardly.

He’s been watching me and Ben the whole time, looking more relaxed now. When my eyes meet his, he grins.

I hate the sparks that fly through me at that smile. And I hate the way my eyes catch on that little swirl of hair that falls behind his ear, right at my eye level. It brushes against the skin of his somehow sexy neck as he turns to say something to Neil. I can’t stop staring at his neck, breathing in the spicy scent of his aftershave.

I swallow, looking back at the table.

“Fantastic place,” Neil says as he settles back down in his seat. “Tell us, what’s good?”

Eli takes my hand as we sit, too, giving it a squeeze. I know it’s reassurance, aso far, so good. But it still feels too real.

Then he casually lowers both our hands, resting them on his knee under the table.

I pull my hand away.It’s not real.

When I look up, Kelly’s eyes are on me.

Did she see the way I jerked my hand away? I reach for my water, though it’s too late for that to be the reason. It’s normal for a couple not to hold hands every moment.

“Do you two like Pinot Noir?” Neil asks after Ben leaves. “I took the liberty of telling your friend to get the server to bring us a bottle of Mont Place.”

Luckily, Neil’s choice of wine is sufficiently distracting. “Seriously?”

Neil smiles a little mischievously. “You know it?”

“Of course she knows it,” Kelly says. “She probably pours it for her customers at L’Aubergine.”

Was that a jab because I’m in the service industry? I can’t seem to tell with Kelly. Her big, thickly lashed eyes are on me, and she gives me a quick smile which might almost be kind.

I can’t read her at all.

“Yes, I know it. It’s favored by our VIPs.”

Neil laughs heartily. “Perfect.”

Our server returns with the bottle, and offers to pour a taste for Neil, but he waves her away, taking the bottle himself and pouring hearty glasses for us all. He’s as careless as if the thousand-dollar bottle were Two-Buck Chuck.

“You don’t need to show off for them, Neil,” Kelly says. “Eli doesn’t know a thing about wine.”

“Actually, he knows a surprising amount,” I say, picking up my glass and smiling at Kelly. It’s an uncoded smile, and it works. She seems surprised enough by my reaction that she averts her gaze.

It’s a trick I picked up early in my serving days which I use to disarm women who seem like they’re going to be anything but kind.

Eli takes a sip. “Reese taught me everything I know about wine.”

Kelly raises a brow. “I thought your preferred way to drink wine was by the box.”

My smile slips as I see the effect her words have on Eli. Like a little bite.

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