Page 23 of Party Favors

Our waitress returned then and handed the bottle to Max. He thanked her, but she didn’t respond and instead hurried off.

“She left the cap on and didn’t give me a bottle opener,” he said to me, sounding slightly bewildered.

Was it because he’d turned her down, or because she was really busy?

“Seriously?” I teased. “You can’t open it? Hand it over.”

He gave it to me, a bemused expression on his face.

“Do they not have bottled beer in Monterra, city boy?” I took the bottle and lined the cap up with the edge of the table, slamming it down with my other hand to pop the cap off.

“Impressive,” he said as I gave it back to him.

“I can also open it with my teeth, but nobody wants to see that.”

He gave me a look that made me think he very much wanted to see me do it, and it sent little shivers up and down my spinal column. “That sounds like a good skill to put on a dating app. ‘Can open beer bottles with my teeth.’”

“Yes, I’m sure that will have all the men of New York City beating a path to my door. I’m not on dating apps, though. I hate that whole mutual scamming/hobby arms race going on there. I wish you could be honest and just say, ‘I’ll like you fine, but please don’t make me hike or row a canoe.’”

That earned me another laugh. “No hiking or canoeing. Noted. What kind of guy do you like?”

I like guys named Max Colby,I thought.

He added, “Maybe I’ll meet someone I could set you up with. What’s your type?”

Mortal men with actual flaws were my type. Not this demigod and whatever heaven he’d obviously fallen out of.

Sadly, though, I couldn’t have asked for a clearer sign that he wasn’t even a little bit interested in me, given that he wanted to set me up with someone else. Message completely received. “My type is a man who can open his own beer bottles.”

Another laugh, but I felt a bit deflated. Even though I knew better, I had let myself get the tiniest bit caught up in what was clearly a fantasy.

“I guess that rules me out,” he said with a grin.

His perfect face ruled him out. “I guess so,” I agreed.

“Why is it that you’re throwing a party based on Monterra but you don’t know anything about the people there?” he asked.

“I’m currently working as an administrative assistant at an event planning company, and I was trying to sell a moody teenager on a theme, so I used something I love and get excited about. I’m kind of obsessed with Monterra’s royal family. All the women in my family are. Princess Chiara’s wedding is coming up, and my mom and meemaw are so excited about it they can’t stand it. Royal weddings are kind of like our Super Bowl. Or whatever the soccer equivalent is.”

“The World Cup?” he offered with a charming grin that made my insides flutter.

“Yeah, that,” I said as I tried not to sigh. It should be a crime to be this good-looking.

Because some people, like me, had absolutely no defense against it.

“What would you like to know?” he asked, and for a second I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wanted to know everything about him. What did he eat for breakfast? How long had he had Basta? Why had he fallen for an evil, stupid woman? Why was he alone when probably every woman in this bar would have gladly gone home with him, including the ones in relationships?

“About Monterra?” he added when I didn’t say anything.

“Everything. I mean, I know what I see in the sanctioned photo ops the royal family puts out, but I’m not up to speed on like, the minutiae of everyday life there. Or how they celebrate events. But let’s start with birthdays.” I grabbed my purse and pulled out a notebook and a pen. I opened the notebook and clicked my pen, waiting for him to start talking.

“Pen and paper?” he said.

“Yes. I have to handwrite when I’m taking notes. It really sears it into my brain, and it’s also faster. I’ve never quite mastered the art of typing with two thumbs on my phone. Which I know is an embarrassment to my peers and I should probably turn in my Gen Z card.”

He grinned. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Why did I like the idea of sharing a secret with him? Also, did he think it was ridiculous that I carried around a notebook? “I’m always prepared,” I said by way of explanation, a little embarrassed. “It’s part of being an event planner. So many things could go wrong in this bar right now and I have something in my purse that would fix it.”

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