Page 23 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
And she’d known just the place to take him. She’d gone to school with Mohe, they’d graduated together, and he’d apprenticed in his father’s carpentry shop for years before opening his own custom furniture business. Not those big chairs carved from whole oak stumps, or the chandeliers made of buck antlers. Mohe made pieces that would last for generation, taking their place alongside antiques while still being furniture people loved using.
Though some pieces, particularly bedroom furniture, would need to be factory-ordered due to the volume the resort would need, certain areas like the lobby and dining rooms would receive Mohe’s special touch.
Lily couldn’t be more thrilled.
Riding that high, she’d responded to Evans’s inquiry about tonight’s meetup at the pub with an, “Of course I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it.”
JD, entering the office just behind her, arched his dark eyebrows. “A pub? Black Wolf’s Bluff has a pub?”
Evan was the one who filled him in. “We do. The Drunken Otter.”
“The place across the square?”
“That’s the one. A bunch of us head over there every Thursday to hang out after work, relax a little before the weekend.”
JD eyed Lily in a way that made her squirm, though she wasn’t sure why. “How would you feel about a tagalong?”
How she felt was like a bit too much of her less-than-businesslike response to him was blazing across her face for both him and Evan to see. Trying desperately to school her features, she choked out, “A tagalong would be great.”
Which was how, after returning to their respective homes to change, they happened to walk into the Drunken Otter together.
Just in time for every member of her friend circle to witness.
Erin and Claire had already snagged a table in the middle of the room, knowing the place would start to fill up soon. Thursday night was ladies’ night, aka ’80s night, and it often seemed like every woman, married, single, or dating, showed up just for half-price margaritas and actual music they could dance to. Well, they could also line dance on Tuesdays, but that wasn’t Lily’s thing. As the saying went, ’80s were her jam—did that date her or what?—and she couldn’t resist a chance to relax. It was the one social gathering where she didn’t try to wear both hats, citizen and mayor, and simply concentrated on having a good time.
As did everybody else.
“Have you eaten?” Erin asked the moment they approached the table.
“And miss Calder’s famous wings?” Lily asked, doing her best to project her horror. “No way.”
“Do pubs have wings?” JD asked. His tone said he’d figured on fish and chips or shepherd’s pie.
“Usually, no,” Lily answered. “Most nights Calder serves more traditional Irish food, but Tuesdays and Thursdays he has a more American menu.”
“So is he American or Irish?”
“All American,” Evan said, joining the table with his arm around a slender, brown-eyed beauty. A gleam of pride glowed in his eyes as he glanced down at the woman. “JD, meet Alana, my girlfriend.”
JD shook Alana’s hand, murmuring a greeting.
“Welcome to town,” Alana said, her gaze direct. Though young, she didn’t tend toward shyness. “My mom has told me all about you.”
“Your mom?”
“Maria,” Lily said.
JD smiled, the warmth lighting up his blue eyes even in the dim bar. “Your mother makes fantastic coffee.”
Pleasure suffused Alana’s face. “She does.”
They were a close-knit family, and Lily knew nothing pleased Alana more than someone appreciating her mom’s hard work. Except maybe being with Evan. The two had dated for over a year now, and they seemed to suit each other very well.
“Anyway,” Evan continued, picking up the thread of conversation as he pulled out a chair for Alana, “Calder spent several years after high school in Ireland. He started there backpacking with a friend, loved it, and stayed. When he came home, only a pub would do for him.”
“Plus he’s a fantastic cook,” Claire put in.
“Now I get it,” JD said. “So what’s good?”
