Page 7 of Tuxedos and Tinsel
“Why?”
“You never react to women this way, especially when it’s someone you’re only looking to have a one-night stand with. Which makes me wonder about this particular woman.”
Ian frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“I always told you that when the love bug bit you, you were going to go downhard. Looks like it’s your turn, little brother. See you around.”
Ian muttered a curse, telling Chris exactly what he could do with that statement, pivoted on his heel and walked away.
Chris’s laughter echoed through the hall behind Ian.
He pushed through the ballroom doors, immediately sought out Maya and spotted her at the far end near the other exit. He strode purposely across the room, ignoring two women who tried to detain him. “Maya,” he called when he was in earshot.
She turned, seemingly surprised to see him. “Ian. I thought you’d left.”
His brow lifted. “Why? I told you I’d wait. Are you off work yet?”
“I...” She nodded.
“Good.” Ian led her to the dance floor and gathered her in his arms. “I want to dance with you again.” He held her close and swayed to the ballad the band played, loving the way she fit in his arms. “Maya.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you in a rush to leave?”
“Well...um, no.”
“Would you join me for a drink? Just to talk.”
“Okay.”
He smiled, took her hand and led her out off the dance floor. He stopped to grab another truffle first, then led her out to the bar. It took a moment, but he spotted a table at the far side and hurried over before someone else could claim it. The waitress came to take their order.
“A glass of Chardonnay, please,” Maya said.
“I’ll have a cognac.” Ian never drank his first one. After the woman left, he focused on Maya. “So, are you some kind of chef?”
Maya smiled. “I’m a pastry chef.”
“How long have you been a pastry chef?”
“Professionally, six years. But I’ve been fascinated with baking and chocolate for as long as I can remember.”
“If everything else tastes as good as that truffle, I’d say you’ve perfected the art. I’m looking forward to sampling a few more of your delicious treats,” he said. The waitress came back with their drinks. “Thanks.” Ian lifted his glass. “To great conversation.”
She touched her glass to his and took a sip of her wine.
“I’ve never met a pastry chef. Seems like it would be hard work to come up with all those different desserts.”
“Not really. Many of them are well-known recipes and others are those that I’ve tweaked to make them my own. What about you?”
“I like to draw, so I became an architect.”
“That has to be fascinating.”
He chuckled. “It has its moments.”
“Did you grow up in LA?”
