Page 21 of Denying Davis
“Get some more appetizers, right?” Davis grinned. “Wouldn’t want to let anyone in this crowd go hungry.”
“Right. Thehorror.” Hiding my own smile, I glanced at my tray, which was still mostly covered in fancy tartlets that costs several bucks a piece and took an exorbitant amount of time to make. “Going hungry is the last thing that I want to happen to them.”
Davis’s grin fell from his face. “You know, about the other night…I just wanted to say that while I was upset you left, I understand.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I doubt you do.”
“We haven’t seen each other in a long time. People change. Time passes, and life gets complicated. I was probably wrong to press you into seeing me.”
I bit the inside of my bottom lip as I weighed the fact that I really wanted to tell him the truth but couldn’t do it there. Not in the middle of a cocktail party. Not while I was supposed to be working. And not when we were talking about such a dramatic and sensitive subject.
No, I can’t.
“If you don’t want to be friends, or even acquaintances, I will have to accept that,” Davis said. “Even if, a long time ago, we were much, much, much more than that.”
“Please,” I whispered, “don’t do this to me.”
“Don’t do what? I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes, you are. You’re making me wish I could change things,” I managed. “And I can’t.” I stepped backward. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to take care of the rest of the guests.”
I turned away and wove through the crowd, knowing it was to my advantage. Davis had too much breeding and far too many manners to make a scene in front of people he and his grandfather wanted to impress.
When I reached the catering kitchen, Nicole was restocking trays with bites of caviar on crackers.
“Do you mind if I take care of that?” I set down the appetizer tray that needed refilling. “I know you wanted me to serve tonight, but if you don’t mind, I could really use a different task right now.”
Nicole looked up from the caviar tray and frowned. “What? Why?”
“It’s just…” I glanced at the doorway, the only thing standing between me and the party. “I know I’ve been acting strange lately, but I have a lot of things going on right now, and I need you to give me some leeway here.”
“But I need another server.” She blanched. “You don’t expect me to do it, do you?”
“No, but I just—” I bit my lip. “Please, Nicole. I know I’ve been acting weird lately. It’s just that…I don’t know. There are a lot of things I’m trying to handle right now.”
She studied me for a beat then let out a large sigh. “I can have Steve switch from overseeing the team to serving. And you can take my place here.”
“I owe you,” I told her as she walked out of the catering kitchen. “I really do.”
I resumed a place at the table, putting dollops of caviar on small crackers. I repeated that task until the last half hour of the party, when the food service ended, and we began packing up for the night. The entire time, I kept thinking about Davis. I simply couldn’t stop.
I was so aware of everything about him—how the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how his jaw had grown sharper in the last decade, and how his natural tan highlighted and enhanced his blond hair. Davis had always been handsome and alluring, and more than that, he’d always known it.
But the man who kept showing up in my life now was different. He was magnetic. Tempting. Tenacious. And he stirred a need in me I hadn’t felt in years. His presence made me realize that despite being around people sometimes ten hours a day, I spent a lot of time feeling lonely. I shouldn’t complain, though. My mother had done everything in her power to make my life amazing. Yet she was so ill we rarely sat and talked like we used to. Rarely laughed at funny anecdotes of Royal Palm patrons. Rarely relaxed and enjoyed life.It was always days of hard work after days of hard work.It was not as if Davis would change any of that.So why did my heart still wish for his friendship? Possibly even his love?
I didn’t have a good answer for either of those questions. When the night finally ended, I shuffled to my car, still thinking about him.
And then, there he was, leaning against it.
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were stalking me. And maybe, you are.”
He stood straighter. “I remembered your car from the other night at The Hamburger Stand.” He shrugged. “So, I decided to take a chance.”
“You’re not worried I’ll call the cops on you?” I tightened my fingers around the handles of my tote bag that was slung over my shoulder as I crossed the parking lot. I needed something to steady the rapid beating of my heart.
“All the police in Palm Beach know me,” he replied, and the lightness in his tone told me I should take his comment as a small attempt at a joke. “So, you wouldn’t be surprising them.”
“In that case”—I held up my phone—“Ishouldcall them.”
