Page 5 of My Merry Mistake
“Happy Halloween.” He holds his hands out, as if taking in my costume. “Solid choice.”
“According to my sisters I have Morticia vibes,” I say without emotion, playing the part.
He laughs, and I see why Poppy is so enamored with him.
Despite my initial hesitation, Dallas Burke has proven himself over and over again. He’s good to my sister—goodforher too. They’re not a power couple, they’re a comfort couple. And somehow, I think that’s even better.
For Poppy, I mean. Not for me.
Comfort has never been my goal.
“Can I steal her for a second?” Dallas looks at me. “A friend of mine was asking about caterers last week, and I wanted to introduce Poppy.”
Poppy’s eyes go wide, and I know her business needs this. Her restaurant is doing well, and Dallas’s connections have taken it to a whole new level. But she’s still trying to dig herself out of some unfortunate debt, so she needs to take advantage of every open door. Besides, she’s an amazing chef. She deserves this.
She grabs my arm. “I’ll be right back, okay? I promise.” She looks at me earnestly, and I know if I don’t convince her I’m okay, she won’t leave my side.
I squeeze her arm and nod. “Go. I’m totally capable of handling myself.”
She pulls me into a quick hug and whispers, “You sure?”
I pull back slightly and say, “If I get overwhelmed by the small talk, I’ll go hide in the bathroom.”
She laughs, but we both know I’m not kidding.
I might be strong and confident at work, but that’s different. I know what I’m doing there. I’m prepared. If Poppy’s a chef, I’m a baker. Give me the recipe, the plan, the order of operations, and I’m your girl.
If I have to wing it? Improvise a conversation thatisn’tabout recruiting candidates for high-level executive positions? Bathroom time.
Poppy smiles at me, then I watch as Dallas leads her away in the direction of a small group of people near the kitchen. I fidget for a moment, tugging once again at the front of my costume, then take a few steps toward the windows. Maybe if I hug the perimeter, stay in the shadows, everyone will leave me alone. I can put in my time, then go home and work. I pull out my phone to make sure I don’t have a new text from Suze, then quickly tuck it back in my tiny, black purse.
I slowly make my way around the room, doing my best to avoid the gyrating bodies, and walk over to the bar. At least if I’m holding a drink, I’ll have something to do with my hands.
There are two Barbies and a “naughty” nurse (eye roll) in line, and a guy wearing a reddish leather jacket behind the counter, making drinks.
A firefighter gets in line behind me. I don’t watch hockey, so he could be a star player, or a coach, or a guy who wandered in from the lobby, and I’d have no idea.
He leans in close. “You here alone?”
I straighten. “No.” I search my mind for something—anything—else to say, but I come up empty.
I can practically hear Eloise begging me toat least tryto have fun, but when I turn back to fumble through something else to say, he’s gone.
I’m not disappointed.
Finally, it’s my turn at the bar. Without looking, I lean toward the guy in the leather jacket and practically yell, “Can I just get a Coke?” without really looking at him.
“I thought your drink was a Long Island iced tea,” he says.
Somewhere, in the recesses of my mind, I recognize that voice.
I look up.
I blink.
As the room shrinks and the background noises fade, my entire world collapses in on me. The bartender. From Christmas Eve.
Five years ago.
