Page 76 of A Certain Appeal
I bat my lashes, aiming for coy. For once, I hope I’m not pulling it off. “Too late.”
I am a wreck all afternoon. I pester Chloe with repeat analyses of my interaction with Darcy, which she counters by reminding me she wasthere, assuring me he’s clearly “feeling it,” and demanding I stop obsessing, because I sound like a loon.
I keep my phone in my lap through dinner and holler, “Wilfie and Nell!” when he sends a text suggesting the bar for drinks.
“It’s good,” offers a man sitting across from me at the large community table. “There’s a hell of a men’s day spa a few doors down.” He nods to Gales, who doesn’t seem sure what to do with the information.
I am then insufferably antsy, according to my good cousin, who demands we make the fifteen-minute walk to the bar to burn off some of my restless energy. She then does me the cruel disservice of letting herself get distracted by a stationery store on Christopher Street, which would be fine, if not for my sense of urgency. We arrive with Chloe’s stockpile of greeting cards to find Darcy has secured a pair of two-tops by one of the windows flanking the bar’s entrance. He’s dressed as he was earlier, though there’s no sign of his glasses. Pity.
He stands to greet us. We move toward each other, stopping just shy of—what? Are we hugging? Shaking hands?
“Hey.” The hand he offers slips around my waist. I come in close, giving him a squeeze that is over too quickly. But his lips graze my cheek, and I get a hint of that same clean, slightly spiced scent I noticed the night we danced.
We sit, and he extends a hello to Chloe before I introduce Gales. As hands are shaken, I shift my leg closer to Darcy’s.
“How was the ramen?” He places his hand on my knee.Very yes.
“Solid. Have you been?” Gales asks, the talk of food a reliable icebreaker with him.
“No. I’ve heard good things, though. Supposed to be the real deal, a guy downstairs making the noodles by hand and everything.”
A server comes by for our drink orders, and when she leaves for the bar, Darcy looks over all three of us. “Before I forget, do you all have plans for Tuesday?”
“Not yet. It’s our last night in town, so we’re game for anything,” says Chloe.
“Great. I got us seating at the chef’s table at Brooklyn Fare.”
The name doesn’t mean anything to me, but I think Gales stops breathing.
“How did you swing that?” he asks, voice high with awe. “That is amazing. I amamazedright now. How—”
“No trouble at all,” Darcy insists, and, in the same breath, continues with, “That’s not true. It required some minor bribery on my part. But a family friend was ultimately persuaded to go elsewhere for dinner Tuesday.”
“I hope the rest of their party doesn’t mind,” Chloe says.
“That’s where the bribery came into play.”
A smile tugs at my mouth as I watch the back-and-forth among the trio. So much for Darcy’s not being good with new people.
“Have you eaten there?” Gales asks.
“Years ago. Not long after they got their first star,” says Darcy. “Tiny place, still next to the grocery store in Brooklyn.”
“Now they’re up to—” Gales’s thick eyebrows come down in thought. “Three stars?”
“Sounds fancy,” says Chloe.
“It’s on me. This was my doing. I insist,” Darcy adds, cutting off Gales’s protest.
Chloe sits back as the server returns with our drinks. “Sounds like we’re in for a treat! Thank you.”
Gales raises his beer. “To minor bribery.”
“To minor bribery,” we chorus, and clink glasses. As we drink, I watch Darcy over the rim of my wineglass. Catching me, he arches a brow and places his beer back on the table.
“Bare?” he whispers.
It takes the warm pass of his hand over my knee for his question to click. “Yeah. No stockings today.” His hand moves in circles over my skin.
