Page 12 of Making It While Faking It
And yes, my guests are very, very, very impressed.
I’ve shaken hundreds of hands, given boatloads of hugs, smiled so much that my cheeks ache. I’m all out of business cards. Everybody wants to make reservations ASAP. I would say the night has been a huge success.
I inhale deeply through my nostrils, drinking it in. The smell of newness is such a potent aphrodisiac. My hazy gaze roams the expanse. My restaurant has been renovated from top to bottom. Long gone are my stabs at adding modern touches to those original art deco design elements from the Roaring Twenties. That was my way of renovating on the cheap. I could never get rid the stench of aged time, not until now—the odor is gone. Everything in my establishment is new and improved.
My interior designer Kelly and I went all-out modern contemporary while being careful not to forsake warmth and intimacy. I’m proud of the chrome circles plastered across the ceiling of this room. There are hundreds of them, each expelling subtle orange light. And encircling the dance floor are two stories of balcony seating. There’s not an empty table tonight. My guests laugh, talk, drink, and some canoodle. Everyone is having a blast.
I was able to expand the square footage and add this new extension by purchasing the spaces on both sides of my business. They weren’t for sale, but I offered the owners prices they couldn’t refuse. This side will be used to accommodate high-end parties. The walls are soundproof to keep the noise contained. On the opposite side of the main restaurant, I added a casual cocktail lounge for more intimate gatherings. For smooth operating, I hired five times the previous number of staff, which includes a full-time accounting department and a promotions and marketing team. We all worked together to make tonight’s grand reopening the success that it is.
My eyes pick out my A-list guests one by one—Ray Black, Carol Neilly, Chuck Bourne, the Nagasaki sisters, Kurt Tolle, Andrew Mates, Stella Meier… the list goes on and on. The only people missing are my cousin Paisley and her new husband and my future brother-in-law, Hercules Lord. Thinking about Paisley not being here makes my heart hurt. I could have seen her on Sunday night. Our family is having a mandatory dinner at her parents’ house in Greenwich, Connecticut. But I’ve already made my decision—I’m not attending. I’ll just pretend that I had forgotten all about it. Plus, I’ve been working nonstop for a month. Since this morning, I’ve felt it in my body. I need to rest.
Paisley would’ve shown up tonight, but she and Hercules are in Mumbai. She says it’s business-related and swore me to secrecy, which is code for whatever she’s doing in Mumbai is going to drive her brother Max crazy, crazier than he already is. I invited Max, too, but I’m not expecting him to show up. Even though my cousin annoys the hell out of me with his nitpicking and controlling ways, he is the ungettable get of the century. If he miraculously shows up, his appearance will be reported in every entertainment magazine in the country. The headline will read something like:The hottest billionaire tech bachelor on the planet was out for a rare night on the town at his cousin’s hot new restaurant.The mention will be premium promotion and achieved for free.
Come on, Max, show up.
Aware that he has an unrequited crush on a friend of mine named Lake Clark, I added a special note at the bottom of his invitation saying that she will be in the house tonight.
Speaking of Lake, the night is nearly over, and she hasn’t shown up either. The corners of my mouth pull down a bit as my heart processes her absence, too, until right on cue, I hear a familiar voice trumpet, “Treasure Chest!”
That’s her.
I spin around so quickly my head dizzies. And there is my beautiful new friend, quickly closing the distance between us.
When we are in each other’s embrace, we hug like our lives depend on this one moment of coming together again. I absolutely love Lake. She was Paisley’s friend first, but now she’s mine too. She’s a natural addition to my constantly growing circle of good girlfriends.
“Your dress,” she croons approvingly as we hold hands and lean back to get a good look at each other’s outfits. Our tastes are oddly similar—sort of artsy chic but sexy and classy with pops of the extraordinary here and there.
“And we didn’t plan this.” My voice rises over the music.
I’m wearing a delicate powder-blue silk halter cocktail dress that touches my body like a sensual kiss. Lake’s dress is the exact same color as mine, only hers is strapless and the bodice is made of latex and the skirt is composed of layers of tarlatan fabric. In addition, we’re both wearing gold shoes! Mine are gold spiked-heel Christian Louboutins, and hers are encrusted with gold. I’m not sure who makes them, but they look stunning.
“Great minds!” she says and apologizes for being late. She tells me that her fiancé wasn’t feeling well. He was supposed to accompany her, and tonight would’ve been the first time he and I met. I’ve heard a lot about Mason, mostly that he’s a good guy and Hercules Lord’s best friend.
I’m on the verge of inquiring more about Mason’s condition, as she looks so sad about whatever’s going on with him and I wonder if it’s serious, but a guy name Alex Shaw and his hot friend descend on us. I’m happy to see him even though I have a feeling Lake wanted to talk about whatever’s going on with her fiancé.
Alex and I hug. His chest and arms are a solid mass of maleness, and his aftershave, body soap, and cologne are an ambrosia of deliciousness. Alex is a player for the new franchise baseball team my brother Lynx owns. We met at a party last year after the Connecticut Ramblers made the playoffs. There was a spark between us, and Lynx, who noticed us hitting it off, asked me to keep away from his players. My brother would never force me to stay away. He would only ask. And of course, I agreed. His sister dating any of his employees would be a conflict of interest.
And so I slipped out of the party without letting Alex know I was leaving. I heard he’s tried to get in touch with me a few times since. He’s even called the restaurant on several occasions. I’ve been meaning to call him back and explain why I ghosted him. But tonight, just like the first time we ever made eye contact, he looks scrumptious. And for some reason, I want to test this new background relationship I have with Achilles Lord. One night of passionate sex can be our little secret since we’re not supposed to be with each other anyway.
“Congratulations,” Alex croons softly in my ear. I’m still in his arms, and he’s holding me for way too long.
“Thank you,” I say as I pull out of his grasp. Shit. As much as I want to get it on with Alex tonight, I can’t. That’s why my tone is highly genial and not flirtatious at all.
His friend holds out his hand to Lake. “And I’m KJ,” he says, eyebrows raised, gazing appreciatively into her eyes.
As KJ shakes her hand, Lake makes her engagement ring known.
“Engaged,” KJ proclaims, letting her know that he’s received her subtle message loud and clear.
“Happily,” she exclaims.
Alex points at me. “But you are not engaged anymore. You’re done with Linney, right?”
I roll my eyes. All night, people have been saying they’re sorry to hear about how my relationship with Simon ended. “I didn’t know you wereTop Rag Mag’s demographic,” I say in jest.
Alex, who has the world’s most gorgeous smile, raises his hands as if to say,You caught me.
I’m in the middle of a laugh when arms wrap around my midsection, and a voice with an English accent says, “Hello, my love,” in my ear and then pelts a tender kiss that contains a light dab of tongue on my temple.
