Page 6 of Counterfeit Connection

“I’m high on life. I’ll give you half my tips if you can somehow get the business card of that perfectly dark-skinned stunner. He should be in a museum, he’s so perfect.”

“Consider it a deal, but you keep your tips. I’ve got this,” I say confidently.

I peek around the corner to get a glimpse of what I’m going to be dealing with. I freeze momentarily because she wasn’t kidding about the man with a camera at the window, or the definite eye candy waiting to be served.

There are four men at a table, two of which seem a bit older and on the stuffy side, but the other two look like they waltzed off the pages ofGQand into Elliot’s.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

The cork on the wine bottle finally pops, thanks to Katarina. “God, I’m good.” She giggles. “I know, right? Aren’t they perfect? They look like they have deep pockets too, so get your pretty ass out there and earn those tips.” She swats me on the ass and I shriek.

I take a deep breath and leave the comfort of the server’s home base. The closer I get, the more I can hear the conversation. It’s a mix of New York, Boston, and British accents. The one Kat is interested in is as stunning as she claimed and definitely British. He’s in head-to-toe black. The only color he has anywhere is thegold around his neck, on his finger, and the watch on his wrist. His skin looks like it’s softer than mine.Good choice, Kat.

The two older gentlemen are definitely American. I can spot an American suit from twenty paces. The last seat has their back to me. He’s got some definite swag to him. Only a man who really is confident could pull off a chocolate-brown tweed suit.

I approach the side of the table and take a moment to meet each of their gazes as I introduce myself.

“Good evening, everyone. My name is Kaitlyn, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

The two Americans at the table greet me in return, but Mr. Tweed Suit doesn’t say anything to me. He only stares in my direction with the clearest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. His hair is perfectly trimmed and styled in that way that looks messy, yet perfectly in place, and when you add in the bit of facial hair he’s sporting, he’s so gorgeous he should be considered dangerous.

“Have any of you dined with us before?” I ask, the one wearing black is the first to chime in.

“I’m not sure about the lads on the other side of the table, but I can safely say my mate and I are first-timers at this lovely establishment.”

“Well, I’m certainly happy I get to be your first,” I say then stop. “I mean.” I clear my throat. “Wow. How about we start with some drinks? I’ll have some glasses of water in a second, but we have a lovely wine cellar and plenty of spirits…” I trail off and look back to the man in the brown suit. He’s still staring at me, but this time there’s the smallest smile floating across his lips.

“Which taste do you prefer?” he asks.

That simple question makes me think we’re no longer talking about the wine list. “I’m sorry?”

“Tell me what you’d want and we’ll start there.”

Now I know it’s innuendo. I’ve been hit on so many times while working that if I’d had a dollar for every time it happened, my student loans and my nephew’s college fund would be full and then some. I think that, and the patriarchal bullshit I endure regularly at the office, is where my aversion to men in suits comes from. Now it might have a subset that includes British accents.

“I think it depends on which type of evening you have planned. If you’d prefer a nice pairing with dinner, we have a vintage cabernet that is very popular. If you want to settle in for the evening and relax with your meal, our bartender makes a variety of cocktails and keeps a few bottles of extremely aged whiskey for special guests.”

“Do you consider us special guests?” Mr. Tweed Suit asks, sitting back in his chair casually with his arm draped across the back.

There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on, but he makes me… completely aware. I love and hate it.

“How about I grab those glasses of water and I’ll bring back a bottle of cabernet? Then if you’re extra nice to me,” I tease them, “I’ll see about glasses of whiskey from his secret stash as an after-dinner drink.”

“If you insist we make it that far. What do you say, gents? Should we stretch our business to include beyond the appetizer? I have a feeling dessert could get interesting.”

The bravado on this man is times ten.With a quick nod of my head, I retreat to the kitchen for a deep breath. “So, did you get it? You seemed to have their undivided attention.” Kat smiles with hope.

I laugh. “Not yet. I have a feeling the tweed member of the suit brigade is the next man I’m going to have to burst his bubble. He went from ice to fire in the span of a few seconds.”

“What do you mean? Was he rude?”

“Absolutely not. He led with what I consider typical British airs. I mean, I’ve seen my brother-in-law do it a thousand times with people he doesn’t know. However, once he bothered to see I was a real human, a switch flipped.”

Katarina pulls Elliot in with her arm around his shoulder. “Do you need us to handle him?”

Elliot looks down at Katarina, completely confused. “What are you two playing at? Torna al lavoro. Go. Go.”

“Nah. I won’t give him the satisfaction. Besides, I have the jeweled taser my brother-in-law insists I carry ready to go.”

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