Page 28 of Don't Remind Me
I put the bottles in the mini recycling bin and set it by the kitchen door to take out back before I left so the bartender wouldn’t have to deal with it tomorrow. My pocket buzzed, and I pulled out my phone to a text from my buddy Colin.
Colin:Definitely. Come by tomorrow.
“Sorry about keeping you here late.” Behind me, Dani set empty glasses on the bar. “We’ve probably overstayed our welcome.”
“No way,” I said, turning to face her. I flicked my chin toward the couches. “I like letting the staff do this once in a while. It’s good for team building, and it doesn’t usually happen on the weekends since we’re open later.”
Her eyes sparkled under the twinkling of the chandelier as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “They’re a lot of fun. I get why this place means so much to you. I can tell it means a lot to them too.”
For some reason, the words jarred me. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear them until they came from her. I struggled to respond. “I try,” was all I could come up with.
She shrugged a shoulder like it was no big deal. “You do a good job.”
I dropped my gaze to my phone, suddenly overwhelmed, and remembered the message I’d gotten.
“Speaking of jobs,” I said. “I have a lead on a silent auction donation for the gala.”
Dani straightened. “Really?”
“My friend just got back to me. We could check it out tomorrow night if you want?”
Something between amusement and surprise crossed her face. “Do you actually know a luxury car dealer?”
I chuckled. “No. But I think this could still work.”
“Don’t youhavework tomorrow?” she asked, gesturing at the bar around her. “What about this place?”
“A and the guys can handle a Wednesday on their own.” And I was due a night off.
Her smile filled her whole face, and for a second, I forgot to breathe. I’d only had one beer, but I was about to dig up the label to check how much alcohol was in it because my world felt off kilter, like it might tip over with a single glance.
Then she spoke, and everything snapped back into place.
“I’m in,” she said.
Chapter Thirteen
Dani
The sun streamedthrough my studio’s wall of windows as I made coffee, brightening my whole apartment to match the lightness buzzing inside me. I almost didn’t need the coffee. Not when I still thrummed from the night before.
It had been the most fun I’d had in years.
Maybe that was sad that at thirty years old, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d hung out like that with a group of people my own age. But it only made me more grateful forthisgroup of people who had given it to me again.
For Zach, who had me keeled over laughing from his story about his first time on a food line and how he dumped scalding hot water over himself while trying to clean up a pot of burned caramel. And Aubrey, who’d brought out a leftover slice of chocolate mousse cake with raspberry sauce to share. It was only big enough for each of us to get one bite, but it may have been the best bite of my life.
That was true for everything I ate at that restaurant, but dammit, those people could cook.
They were kind and talented andcool, and I felt like the new kid in school, hoping they would let me keep sitting with them during lunch.
Which meant, naturally, I felt the need to work from home today—my actual home—so I wouldn’t appear too eager to be a part of their clique and wear out my welcome.
Overthinking truly was my superpower.
It did have a plus side, which was that my brain’s running loop of the things I did or said last night that could have been at all embarrassing kept me from fixating on the possibility of someone leaving death threats in my mailbox. Not that those particular nerves had vanished, but at this point, they’d more or less become my new baseline, an ever-present anxiety simmering on the back burner. The office was still getting hate mail, some of it addressed to me, but the fact that I hadn’t gotten any at home made me think Geffery was right and whoever left the note on my car had no plans to take things further.
I might have felt relieved if it wasn’t for the swarm of butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach ever since Jase had invited me to his friend’s art gallery.
