Page 95 of Miami Ice

“Becca, I’d like to introduce you to Beckham and Georgie,” Antoni says.

I stop dead in my tracks when I see the beautiful brunette arranging bruschetta on a platter.

Oh my God. She bought some of my jars at my last show!

The second she looks at me—and then her eyes shift to my Mason jar—her mouth falls open in surprise. “You’re Georgie! Of Georgie’s Jars!” she says, her face breaking into a wide smile. “I know you don’t probably remember me, but I bought some jars at your show last week.”

“No, I completely remember you! You were with your sister and grandmother. Thank you for your purchase.”

“That’s why she remembers you. Grandma Montgomery was let loose in the wild,” Antoni says, his eyes sparkling.

Oh, if Antoni and Becca only knew the truth. They have no idea I remember every one of my customers because, oh, if I get five at a show, that’s a big day.

“She was fairly under control that day,” Becca says with a smile. “I’m so excited it’s you! I admire your art so much.”

My anxious feeling has completely disappeared, and pride fills me instead. “Thank you so much, I appreciate that.”

“Georgie is incredibly talented,” Beckham says, setting the beer on the marble kitchen island, then putting his hand on the small of my back and rubbing it.

“I know she is. I have her jars in my kitchen back at my apartment,” Becca says, putting the last piece of bruschetta on the platter.

“Well, I have another piece for your collection,” I say, extending the jar filled with roses to her.

“Oh! I’m so excited! I might have to put this one on my desk at work,” Becca says excitedly, taking the flowers from me. “Thank you so much.”

“It will fit perfectly next to the Nordic troll doll,” Antoni says, his eyes dancing.

Becca’s neck begins to flush. “Antoni, stop. She’s going to think I’m weird!”

“Georgie is obsessed with maniacal nutcrackers. She’s never going to think you’re weird,” Beckham supplies, his mouth curving up in that teasing smile.

“I think I like you already,” Becca says, grinning at me.

“Same,” I say happily.

“What would you all like to drink?” she asks. “I’ve got wine, iced tea, and I see we’ve been gifted some beer.”

“Thank you,” Antoni says, retrieving a bottle from the pack. “Beckham?”

“A beer is fine, thank you.”

Antoni moves over to a cabinet and retrieves two glasses. “What can I get you, Georgie?”

“I’d love a glass of wine,” I say.

“Sure. What would you like?” Antoni asks as he opens a bottle of beer and pours it into a glass. “We’ve got some chardonnay and rosé. Champagne. And merlot and cab.”

“Rosé would be lovely, thank you, Antoni.” I turn to Becca. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh no, I’ve just got to put a few more things out,” she says, setting out a basket of tortilla chips and guacamole. “I’ve got the bruschetta, the chips, and the last thing I need to get are the mini empanadas.”

“Oh, I love a good empanada,” I say.

“Me too. I’ve got beef empanadas in the oven right now.” Becca moves over to the oven and picks up some potholders. She opens the door, and the scent of hot, savory pastry fills the air. I’m instantly starving.

“Thank you for inviting us over,” Beckham says as Antoni hands him a glass of beer. “I bought the house, so I hope you’re going to tell me this neighborhood is worth the price tag.”

Antoni moves to the refrigerator and opens the door, retrieving a bottle of rosé. “It’s absolutely worth the price tag for two reasons. The privacy and security, for one. Nobody bothers me here, which is nice. The other reason? The view I have from my backyard.”

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