Page 32 of Midsummer Phoenixes
If the leather daddy was angry, he didn’t show it. Instead, he nodded at me, nodded at Soyer, and headed back to his table.
I leaned forward. “Why were you so rude?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“Hmm. It’s really packed tonight, isn’t it? So many ears, so many sequined butts in these bar chairs.” I was pretty sure I heard Grenadine gasp at that part. “Rae.” Soyer waved them over.
Rae made for him in a beeline when, usually, they gave him and me space. “Yes, Mr. Bennet?”
“Amory is not feeling well. I’m taking him home. Can you handle everything?”
“But, Soyer, I—”
His eyes twinkled. “My heart, you didn’t save me any cherry pie tonight. This will be your atonement.”
“Aaah,” Elias said, cradling his chin on his hand and smiling like the overdose of sugar he’d had was making him see cotton candy.
I just stood there, face going red.
“Of course. Not a problem,” Rae said, nodded, and was off.
“Soyer, you can’t just—”
“Hush. Don’t you want Ben to get off of work early tonight?” He crooked a finger. “Come over here before I jump over there and get you. And leave your jacket. It’s warm enough outside.”
“But…”
He shrugged. “Counter isn’t that high. Not high enough to keep me off you.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking. It was possible. It was also possible he wasn’t. Soyer was a man of action if he wanted or needed to be, and I’d have to be a fool not to see the desire in his eyes.
I took my phone from my apron and left the apron right there on the counter, putting the phone in my back pocket.
“Bye, kid,” Dwayne said when I walked past the passthrough. I looked up at him, and he shrugged. “He texted me. I said Rae’s fast enough on their feet to do a few hours solo.”
I sighed. “He could’ve told me that.” And then I smiled, because even if he hadn’t, it was sweet. Romantic. “Bye, Dwayne. And thanks.”
Dwayne grunted, going back to cooking.
“You’re off,” I told Ben when I passed his end of the counter.
“Yes, I heard. Have a good evening, sir.”
Ben was still weirdly formal on and off. I wasn’t sure I’d ever fully get used to it. When I walked by the leather daddies and Grenadine, when Soyer slid off his stool and held out his hand for me to take, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I had burned for this man. I would do anything for him.
The staircase was dark, and Soyer led the way with the flashlight of his phone.
“Can I change my stance on the surprise?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “You’re getting it.”
“You didn’t say anything about a creepy old building without electricity.”
“It’s old, not creepy, and it has electricity. Just no lights here, which is by design.”
“Who would put no lights in a stairwell?”
“Vampires.”
“Oh.”
