Page 97 of Chasing Sparks

Either way, I miss him. And I’d give anything to see him for just five minutes.

Lucky for me, I have something he wants and needs—coffee.

I smooth my blouse, steadying my nerves, and glance toward the door. “I think I’ll pop downstairs and have a look at the progress on the speakeasy.”

“Don’t tell me you can’t go a few hours without speaking to the man,” Mina snorts, her smirk cutting through the morning quiet.

“A few hours? I haven’t spent any time with him since we landed.”

“Really? He’s that busy?”

Something about Mina’s wide-eyed gaze doesn’t sit right. It stirs up the fear I’ve been trying to shove aside—the nagging thought that maybe, despite all the trust I’ve placed in him, Ash doesn’t know what to do with my declaration of love.

Best way to handle it? Bring him coffee and be my usual snarky but lovable self. No need to spiral into paranoia when I can take action instead.

“So he claims,” I reply with a casual shrug, popping a lid on an extra-large cup of coffee. I tuck the book from Kevin under my arm and motion toward the door. “The least I can do is bring him a refill. Poor man was relegated to gas station java this morning. The horror.”

“Likely story.”

“One I’ll keep telling,” I call over my shoulder, flashing Mina a grin before disappearing down the basement steps.

When I hit the floor, I do a double take. This can’t be the same basement. It just can’t.

The concrete walls are now paneled in a rich cherry wood, the kind that gleams under the soft, recessed lighting, casting a warm, inviting glow into every corner. What isn’t paneled is painted a deep emerald green that feels both luxurious anddaring. The original oak bar has been restored to its former glory, every inch polished to a mirror-like finish, glistening proudly along the far wall.

There’s even a small stage at the front of the speakeasy, framed by delicate sconces, where no doubt any number of sexily clad flappers will entertain the masses. The room practically hums with anticipation, as if it’s already alive with laughter, music, and the clink of cocktail glasses.

It’s beautiful. Breathtaking, even. And for a moment, it feels like I’ve stepped back in time—only better, because Ash has left his mark on every inch of this space.

This isRum & Ruin, and it’s going to be a triumph.

“What are you doing down here?”

I pivot, shooting Ash a smile as I motion to the stunning restorations around us. “This is incredible. Well done, you.”

“It’s not bad, is it?”

I smack his arm, shaking my head at his downplayed reaction. “Not bad? It’s every F. Scott Fitzgerald novel brought to life. You did it, Ash. You really did it.”

“Hard to believe.” His gaze drops to the coffee in my hand. “Is that for me?”

“You know it is. Black like your soul.”

“Cute, little one.” His eyes roam the length of me, his smirk widening as he takes a sip. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“No problem. Also, this came from one of my customers.” I hand him the package from Kevin.

Ash eyes it warily, his expression tightening ever so slightly. “Really? Who?”

“Kevin Duncan. He asked me to bring it to you.”

Ash sets the coffee on the bar and opens the package, his brows furrowing as he inspects the contents. “Huh. Interesting.”

“See? You’re the talk of the town. Everyone’s champing at the bit to get a drink here.”

“Funny thing is, I don’t know the guy,” Ash says, setting the package aside. “But I’ll check it out later.”

“So, isRum & Ruinalmost ready for her first guests?”

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