He smiled at the thought and then immediately scowled again, now even more frustrated with his inability to match up reality to inspiration.
As he scanned the shop one final time, a flash of color drew his gaze to a clay pot buried amongst the potted orchids and unruly ferns. A wide grin tugged at his lips when he figured out what it was.
It was perfect
.
* * * * *
ZERO MISSED CALLS
.
Luke stared at his smartphone screen. The same taunt had mocked him ten minutes ago too. Plight of a recovering serial monogamist finally attempting the saddle again—wanting the relationship without playing the nonsensical dating games to get there. Grouchy now on top of Monday-morning antsy, Luke started tapping his pen on the desk.
Irked, Quinn grabbed his pen and set it down with an exasperated huff. “Okay, what’s her name?”
Huh. Isn’t that the million dollar question
, thought Luke sardonically.
“Dani,” he eventually answered with a blunt frown.
Quinn’s mouth rounded into a surprised
O
. “Wow, you’re really crushing on this one.”
Not really in the mood for any pseudo-sisterly torment, he remained silent, shuffling through the upcoming week’s paperwork his eyes had been glazing over for the past ten minutes.
Reaching over, Quinn plucked the papers from his hands and let out a quiet curse. “What happened? Did she shoot you down? Do you need me to kick the stupid woman’s ass?”
Aw, that was vicious, but sweet.
“No,” he sighed. “Dani’s great. We had an amazing...uh, introduction to each other the other night, but I didn’t get her number. So yesterday, I left my number along with a gift for her over at Ocotillos where she works.” He frowned at his phone. “She hasn’t called.”
“She could just be shy, or doing the ‘wait two days’ thing guys do,” Quinn reassured him.
Or
he’d been way off about the gift, and now she thought he was bizarre and random.
He resumed his pen-tapping.
“Go home.” Quinn packed up his things for him. “You pulled an all-nighter creating that new chocolate on Saturday, you worked and babysat for me on Sunday, and then you still did your four a.m. chocolate batches this morning. You must be beat.” She tossed his keys to him. “I’ll take care of the corporate deliveries today.”
Since Quinn had brilliantly suggested that they donate some care baskets to several dozen big corporations—which had instantly resulted in rolling orders—they’d had something keeping them busy during their one-week grand opening delay due to their missing equipment.
Luke rubbed his neck. “I guess I am pretty fried.” Yawning, he gave her a peck on the cheek in thanks and headed out to his car.
It wasn’t until he was halfway home that he realized what he’d forgotten to do this morning as planned. He quickly grabbed his cell phone and hit the first speed dial. “Hey Quinn. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot you wanted to discuss your video ad ideas for our Valentine’s Day campaign this morning. You want me to head back in?”
Quinn’s voice grinned over the phone line. “That’s alright. You’re exhausted, and clearly distracted. We can talk more about the video ads later. I’ll just do some prep work for it today. No worries. One day of you being a red-blooded man isn’t going to kill us.”
Wow. What happened to the freaked out Quinn from the past few weeks?
Hearing her renewed excitement about the shop markedly eased the weight he’d been feeling on his shoulders the past few weeks. He didn’t realize how much he’d been needing Quinn to go back to being the yin to his yang in his chocolate operation, the one whose belief in their success was based as much on loyalty and faith as it was good, sound business.
And for the first time since the move, she was back.
“Damn,” he commented, now slightly more curious than tired, “your idea must be good.”
“You’ll see,” she replied confidently. “I’m going to take the bull by the horns, if you don’t mind. I want to gather some footage and start the ground work for the videos already.”
Now he
knew
she was back. With Quinn being a step ahead of him, they’d returned to their status quo. “Go for it,” he said with a grin as he pulled into his apartment parking stall and threw his car into park. Since she was a real-deal marketing whiz, whatever she was cooking up would turn into gold, no doubt.
With Quinn very much her old self again, suddenly, Luke felt his body start to unravel. All at once, every tired muscle in his body weighed on his bones like newly dried cement. The burst of relieved adrenaline he’d got a second ago depleted the last of his emotional reserves, causing him to hit the wall hard.
Staying awake was nowhere in the realm of possible anymore. Barely remembering to mumble goodbye before clicking off his bluetooth, Luke stumbled in his door, dropped everything in the hallway, and fell into bed half-zipped, eyes already glued closed.
Falling asleep at this time of day wasn’t all that uncommon for him. His vampiric sleeping schedule began years ago when he’d discovered how much he preferred working on his chocolates before dawn. Unfortunately, this meant a pitch-dark refuge was a necessity if he hoped to get a wink of sleep afterward.
Today though, even with the Arizona sun blazing through his windows, he was out cold. Unconscious to everything.
Even his beeping cell phone.
CHAPTER THREE
AT THE LANDING
of the back stairwell that led from her little studio apartment down to Ocotillos, Dani attempted to stretch the aches out of her neck, calves, and everything in between. Even her hair hurt.
“Ugh, I’m getting old.”
Not that she would dare repeat that statement in the brewpub.
She’d made the mistake once last year and just barely missed a lynching by her wait staff, half of whom had been like aunts and sisters to her for over a decade now, since the day she’d turned sixteen and had begun following in her dad’s beer brewing footsteps.
While they’d be the first to admit she had always acted way too old for her age, all the waitresses still decreed that she’d better have at least one sagging body part before she even thought of uttering those words again.
Dani chuckled at the memory. The irony here was that she’d actually been doing them proud the past few days, finally acting like the teen she’d never been back then. Hyperactive libido? Revved enough to power a small city. Self-restraint? Questionable at best. All very redolent of the end-of-the-road adolescent years she’d leapfrogged right over to take over the family business.
And this new found smitten-kitten behavior was all because of
him
.
Oh, she was well aware that she was flat-out swooning over Luke like he was the best crop of hops she’d ever encountered. Hell, she’d experienced the whirlwind feelings before...just not over anything but beer or food until now.
Jesus, Dani Dobson, swept off her feet—even the statement sounded surreal. But the proof was there, plain as day. Since meeting Luke two nights ago, she’d become distracted beyond saving. It had taken her a full hour longer than usual to close up the brewpub that night, a half hour later than that the next. Heck, last night, she’d actually had to double back because she’d forgotten to do her nightly check out front to make sure her workers had secured the lot up for the night. Along with deadbolting all the doors to the brewery, that was a routine step she couldn’t ever remember having skipped in years.
Yep, Luke was most assuredly to blame.
The man was a menace to all that kept her boring. He made her hum. Literally. She’d actually caught herself humming a sappy tune that second trip up the illogically steep fire escape to her loft apartment.
Humming
. Up the rickety relic of a stairwell her dad had loved for some incomprehensible reason, seeing as how it was a bitchfest to climb even on a good day.
Who knew? A few kisses with a stranger who’d forgotten to get her number was all she’d needed to feel so…irresponsibly free. Devoid of anxiety.
Happy
. And for the first time in a long while, not half as lonely.
Too bad it was a onetime thing.
Not that she would’ve allowed herself to keep him either way.
As she stepped into the brewpub, she shook off that depressing thought. Enough mooning. One good thing about being bone tired today was that she could stop thinking about the man for a little while. If only out of sheer exhaustion. Having her weekend day cook switch shifts with her at the last minute yesterday had forced her to work back-to-back for the first time in months—brutal, since she’d both opened and closed the day before. To top it all, because the universe, or at least Arizona’s jury system, didn’t think her life was interesting enough, she was now covering her weekday day cook’s shift as well. It wouldn’t have been so bad if today weren’t a Monday. As it was, with the tight demands of her time each week, she’d had to turn today’s regularly scheduled clerical duties into last night’s blurry-eyed homework. She’d barely gotten in an hour of sleep before her alarm had gone off a few minutes ago.
Smothering a yawn, Dani waved to her mid-morning crew and began faxing out next week’s vendor orders before filing the net calculation logs she’d finished at four this morning. She spent a few minutes online before moving on to the part she’d been looking forward to today—writing this quarter’s bonus checks for her assistant managers and brew managers. It thrilled her to no end that the checks would be bigger than usual, courtesy of the great crowds they’d had through the holidays. Rewarding her management team sizably and giving her staff regular Christmas and anniversary bonuses were among the many business ethics she’d inherited from her dad, a luxury she was able to keep up because of Ocotillos’ growing success over the years.
After scrawling her signature on the last check, she stuffed each into their recipients’ inboxes and rushed downstairs to fire up the kitchen grills for the lunch rush. Within a half hour, Dani was churning out food orders with nothing more than hope and a recurrent yawn keeping her awake, a sad fact she was trying desperately to keep from showing in her food. Even if it killed her—and today, there was a strong possibility it would—Dani never allowed herself to put anything less than her heart and soul into both her brewing and her cooking. She worked the way some people prayed, and reaped the same kind of fulfillment for her commitment.
By the time noon rolled around, however, she was plum fulfilled out.
As far as exhausted delusions go, the one of Xoey stomping in and taking the tongs out of her hands was up there with fairy mermaids on unicorns. Entertaining, but all too unbelievable.
With a groan, Dani tried pinching herself to wake up from what was clearly an extravagant daydream resulting from her falling asleep at the grill. She blinked. No cigar. After another hard pinch, she realized Xoey really was standing there, not only hours early for her shift, but in a cooking apron. Dani’s mouth gaped open in disbelief. Make that shock. The full apron was not a look Xoey ever rocked, nor was the kitchen an area she ever entered except to flirt with the cooks.
Craig, the kitchen part-timer who was carrying a pan of meat from the walk-in fridge came to a skidding stop with a quiet, “
What the
—” He almost dropped the food he was carrying.
Oh good, he saw it too. So this wasn’t a hallucination.
They both stood there and watched Xoey efficiently check the order monitor to see what dishes she needed to get started on, and then hustle to grab the ingredients for a portabella salad.
“It’s not that weird,” snapped Xoey. “Craig, get over here.” She slapped a spatula into his hand. “I called Javier and he’ll be coming in soon to cover so until then, you’re gonna show me how much you’ve learned to cook so far. Don’t screw it up.” The wide-eyed college kid who’d been limited to prep and appetizers until now just bobbled his head and got to work.
Turning back to Dani, she scowled. “You have to learn to ask for help, lady. The brew boys shouldn’t have to call me to tell me you’re like the walking dead in here.”
Awww
, her workers had called Xoey.
“Go up to your office and get some sleep. And don’t even think about coming back until tonight, missy.” With that, Xoey got to work throwing a flank steak on the grill, blending up some basil for their pesto dressing, and scooping hummus onto a platter. Dani didn’t even get to utter a word before her server staff promptly herded her out of the kitchen.
Up in her office, she saw waiting for her, a glass of icy strawberry milk and a warm cookie, her all-time favorite comfort food combo thanks to Elle, the veteran waitress who’d been the first to spoil Dani with this afterschool snack decades ago. A faint mist gathered in Dani’s eyes.
Crazy wonderful workers
. Smiling sleepily as she sipped her milk, Dani shuffled to the couch at the back of her office and plopped down.
Halfway through her milk and cookies, a flash of color on the far table caught her eye and had her quickly heading over to investigate the source.