Page 21 of Stick Side
“Yeah,” Cassidy affirmed as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Formyown good. Since I’d have to wipe the floor with anyone who treated her wrong.”
Ben’s second eyebrow drew up to join the first. Cassidy’s comment could be no more than the remark of a protective friend, but was it? Of that, Ben wasn’t sure.
Cassidy sighed heavily and shifted his weight from one foot to the next before starting to pace. “Mel isn’t nearly suspicious enough of people’s bad intentions. She’s such a good person that she just assumes other people will be, too. And yet, few are. Especially at nightclubs and places like that.”
Ben’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Is Cellars a nightclub?” he queried.
“Well, no,” Cassidy admitted as he tore off his shoulder pads. “But who knows where they’ll end up.”
“Don’t worry.” Phillips clapped Cassidy on the back. “Pam may be one seriously sexy woman, but she’s also a protective mama bear. My wife might not be much older than Melody, but she’ll make sure she doesn’t get too sauced to look out for her girls.”
“If that weren’t enough,” Phillips continued, “Pam’s sister, Annie, is going to be with them. So, Pam will kick back and relax, but this will hardly be a case of girls gone wild.”
“Well, okay,” Cassidy grumbled, temporarily mollified. Not, Ben suspected, that he had any real say in how Melody chose to spend her time—or with whom.
Ben couldn’t help but wonder how Cassidy would take his own interest in Melody. Would he go to as much effort to cockblock him as he was these potential unknowns he pictured hitting on her? Did Cassidy object to anyone getting romantically involved with Melody, or just the guys only out for a good time?
Since Ben had every intention of pursuing Melody, he supposed he would soon find out.
Now, to plan his strategy. Operation: Get the Girlwas about to commence.
Chapter 9
Melody
Melodysmiledtoherselfas she walked through the imposing stone archway of Cellars and descended the stairs to where a hostess was taking names and trying to organize the people seeking entrance.
It was apparent from first glance that Cellars was upscale. It didn’t take a trained eye to note the finely appointed furnishings set against a backdrop of rustic elegance. The exposed red brick walls and wooden beams were striking, but it was the gorgeous bar that appeared to have been fashioned out of a collection of premium wine barrels with a glass top that really drew the eye.
Somehow, Cellars seemed to convey the impression of both a down-to-earth eatery and an upper-class bastion. It was both striking and welcoming.
Melody had looked up Cellars after Eric’s implication that it might not be as classy as Pam had thought. While there was every possibility Eric was correct about its popularity for “high-end hookups,” whatever else Cellars was, it was also a hot spot for Chicago’s well-to-do gastronome scene. Most especially for those who enjoyed fine wines and signature cocktails.
Not wanting to be rude and push her way through to the front of the line, Melody went up on tiptoes and tried to see above the group of guys in front of her as she waited to be acknowledged by the hostess. She craned her neck this way and that as she sought to find her friends. She spotted them at a corner table just as she advanced to the front of the line.
“Good evening and welcome to Cellars,” the hostess greeted cheerfully. “Do you have reservations this evening?”
“I do, yes,” Melody said. “I see that my group has already arrived. They’re just over at the corner table there.” She gestured toward the table as politely as possible.
The hostess glanced at her seating chart. “Ah. You must be Melody,” she said as she hailed a colleague to escort Melody to her table. “Mrs. Phillips told me to expect you.”
“Rachel,” the hostess said to the other attendant with commendable dignity for a woman who Melody doubted had even attained the legal drinking age, “please show the lady to table nineteen.” And to Melody, “Have a lovely evening!”
Melody followed Rachel to her table. While she could have easily navigated herself there without assistance, she’d been to enough upscale restaurants to appreciate that this was just the way it was done.
“Your table, miss,” Rachel announced. “Chelsea will be along shortly to take your drink order.”
“Thank you,” Melody acknowledged.
The girls wolf whistled as Melody drew up to the last empty chair at their high circular table set for four. She noticed they’d already ordered a round of cocktails.
“Daaamn, but you clean up nice.” Shawna Gower, the Challengers’ PR manager, whistled. “It’s a good thing you don’t wear stuff like that to work or you’d be responsible for some near-fatal heart attacks.”
“Wow, Mel. You really do look gorgeous,” Pam complimented. “That dress looks divine on you.”
“Thank you,” Melody said as she smoothed down her fitted all-black cocktail dress before taking her seat. She enjoyed the way the floral lace overlay added that little extra something to the standard LBD. It was basic, but also that little bit more.
“Seriously,” the final lady in their group affirmed. “That V-neck does such awesome things for you that I’m feeling practically hypnotized by your boobs.”
