Page 28 of Wish You Would

“This is customer service, Samuels. All my smiles are fake.”

“So, now you’re grumpy and lying?” Shaking my head, I lifted my glass to my lips. “You think you know a person.”

Her mouth dropped open and, for a moment, she was speechless. She recovered quickly, though, and pulled the napkin my drink was on across the bar, taking my drink with it. “Smart asses don’t get free drinks.”

Without missing a beat, I pulled my wallet out and slapped some cash on the counter. Then, I pulled my drink back to my side of the counter. “There, all paid up. Now, talk.”

Surprise flickered across her face, transforming into a smile—a real one—then, a laugh. Shaking her head, she looked me over. “Never a dull moment with you, is there?”

I grinned back, warmth filling me up inside. I did that, I thought. I put that smile on her face.

Sighing, she surveyed the bar behind me before finding my face again. “Patti Mayonnaise asked me to join. Permanently.”

“Gigi!” I leaned over the bar and squeezed her arm. “That’s great. That—”

“I can’t do it,” she cut in. Her shoulders dropped. “It’s a big gig. Lots of shows, locally and in other states. It would be impossible for me to do while also running this place.” Again, her eyes scraped over our surroundings, and the defeat on her face twisted my insides to knots.

“What about,” I started, searching my mind for a solution. A compromise. A way to make this happen, make her smile again.

I came up empty.

“Shoot.”

“Exactly.” She exhaled, and it was a sigh of a thousand wishing stars crashing to the ground. “I couldn’t even get away tonight to sub in for them.”

“Well, that just sucks poop through a straw.” I took a huge swig of my drink and winced as the bubbles burned their way down my throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks.” As she said it, there was a scraping sound from upstairs, as if someone had moved furniture. We both glanced up, then met each others’ eyes. “But, hey,” she said, a wry twist of her lips, “if me sitting this opportunity out means he gets to be happy…” She trailed off with a shrug. “He deserves it.”

I studied her. I had the CliffsNotes version of her relationship with her brother. I knew it was just as fraught as my history with Anya. I wondered if that had something to do with her dedication to this bar.

“Gigi,” I started, not entirely sure what I was going to say. “What—”

“So, when do you wanna do your next lesson?” Her eyes widened, as if saying Let it go, Samuels. Please.

And so I let it go.

For now.

“Um, how about,” I started, pulling my phone from my bag. I scrolled through my calendar, wincing at the sheer volume of things to do and places to be. Grad school was soul-consuming.

Gigi stood on tiptoe to see my screen and let out a low whistle. “Damn. When do you sleep?”

I glanced up with a short laugh. “Basically never.” After making it to the end of the week without a solid pocket of time during normal people hours, I scrolled back to the top. “Okay. Either tomorrow night, after ten p.m., or…”

“I can do that,” she interrupted. “Vaughn’s night to work.” She leaned over the counter, peering at my phone. “Pencil me in, babycakes.”

“Babycakes?” I laughed, looking up. A jolt zipped through me. She was mere inches away, so close I could see the freckles dancing across her skin.

Her already-dark gaze went darker as they traveled down my face, then back up to my eyes. “I don’t know.” Her voice was quiet, and it warmed the space between us like velvet. “You seem like a babycakes.”

My next breath caught in my throat, my mind wiped clean. There was only Gigi, so close I could smell her salty coconut scent. So close I could feel her body heat. So close I could…

God, I could…

“Great.” Gigi’s voice crashed through the moment. She pulled back, and the air around me cooled instantly. “Your place okay?”

I blinked hard, reorienting myself to the here and now. And far, far away from whatever that was. “Um.” Straightening, I reached for my drink and took a hearty gulp. Wincing against the burn, I nodded. “Sure. Yeah. Mine’s fine.”

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