Page 68 of A Kiss at Midnight

“You probably don’t want to know. But yes, it has magical powers. Or maybe if you drink enough of them, your head gets so fuzzy, it simplyfeelslike they have magical powers. I’m Tina.”

“I’m Jewel.” A group of young men come in, and the bartender’s busy for the next several minutes as she checks their IDs and makes drinks. One of the kids, who can’t be more than a few months over twenty-one, comes and sits by me.

“Can I buy your next drink?” he asks.

I give him a smile. “Trust me, you’re going to be much better off buying it for one of the young ladies over there,” I say, and point to a group of college-age girls sitting at a table in the corner.

“Nah, the girls my age are too shallow. I’m Dale,” he says with a wink as he motions for Tina to come over. “Can I get another drink for the lady?”

Tina looks at me, and I shrug, shocked to see my first drink is already finished. Obviously I needed it more than I realized. Tina makes another one, and I smile as I sip on it and start an interesting conversation with Dale, who invites his friends over as we share a third drink together. I’m laughing with the entire group of boys, who I learn are attending the University of Washington.

I decide no more drinking after the fourth one arrives; I don’t want to end up doing something foolish, and if I keep going, I’m cruising in that direction. I excuse myself and move to the waiting line for the bathroom.

“Are you giving up on men and going for boys now?” I turn to see McKenzie standing near me. The smile in her voice takes away the sting of her words.

“Maybe. Men are too complicated,” I reply, happy to see her. “Are you following me?”

“I might be,” McKenzie says with a brittle laugh. “Or I might be having just as bad a day as you, and I needed to escape my troubles with a few drinks of my own.”

“It’s so easy to look at others and think they have picturesque lives. I’m not saying this to be mean, but it makes me feel a little better to see someone as beautiful and successful as you having a bad day.” I probably would never say something like this if not for the four drinks I’ve consumed.

McKenzie laughs. “Well, you made me feel better. I’m glad my pain helps,” she says. “Good luck with the boys.” She walks away smiling as I slip into the bathroom. When I come out, she’s gone.

I walk back to the college kids, and although I’m immeasurably better than I was when I walked into the bar, it’s time to go. I thank the boys and Tina, and announce I’m heading home. I’d much rather eat at my own place than consume a bunch of deep-fried bar food.

My companions lodge protests, but they don’t hassle me too much. I make my way back down the street in a decent mood because of my adventure. But my good mood immediately disappears when I walk through my door and hear laughter coming from the living room.

My stomach clenches when a male voice pipes in. The part-time housekeeper Blake sends to my home twice a week, even though I’ve told him it isn’t necessary, isn’t alone, and I know who’s with Elsa.Hegets to disappear for days and then show up whenever he feels like it. It instantly ticks me off.

When I stop in the doorway and see Blake with a smile on his normally stern face, I have an odd surge of jealousy. This is ridiculous. If he wants to run off with the housekeeper, a woman he’s hired, that will save me a lot of hassle. I should leave them to their fun... and walk away in relief. That isn’t what I do. Instead, I take another step forward.

My eyes are drawn to the laugh lines by his eyes; they make his face seem more open, more human. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that hug his thighs to perfection, and a shirt that’s molded to his sculpted chest.

My stomach tightens with raw need, and my head starts to spin. When I try to take another step, I grip the doorjamb and holding on for dear life. I’m glad that neither Blake nor Elsa have noticed me, because it gives me a moment to compose my features, to pull myself together. I’m starting to regret the drinks I downed.

Blake’s shoulders tense, and he turns his head an inch in my direction. He’s now aware of my presence. There’s no use in hiding, so I let go of the doorjamb and move into the room, hoping my voice will sound normal if I’m expected to speak.

“Hello, Ms. Weston, let me get dinner started for you,” Elsa says as she immediately stands.

“It’s fine, Elsa. I’m not hungry,” I reply.

“Oh, it’s not a problem,” Elsa says. I notice how she practically bats her eyes at Blake, and I fight not to grit my teeth together. It looks like Elsa and Blake have enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. I’m not proud of myself for being jealous. What in the heck is wrong with me?

“Don’t let me interrupt you guys,” I say. “I need to take a shower.”

“I’ll have dinner ready in half an hour,” Elsa says.

Elsa goes to the kitchen, and I hightail it out of the room, shut and lock my door, then lean against it. After catching my breath, I go into the bathroom and take an extra-long shower. When I come out the apartment smells delicious... but I have no appetite. I move to the table that’s already set. I want to be petty, but realize I’m acting ridiculous. I take a seat and Blake comes over and chooses a seat too close for my frayed nerves.

I focus on the food in front of me because I’m not sure what in the hell I’m feeling right now. I take bites without looking up as the silence begins growing to oppressive levels. I can’t help but think of all of the meals I’ve shared with Blake where most ended with me as Blake’s final course. The confusing part of all of this is that I wouldn’t mind reenacting a few of those moments right here and now. I’m too rattled to eat anything more so I push my food around my plate hoping Blake won’t notice.

“You’ve lost weight, Jewel. Please don’t let my presence stop you from eating. You obviously need the calories.” When I don’t look up, I hear movement, and then his fingers are beneath my chin, tilting it up, and forcing our eyes to meet.

“I might have a bug or something,” I say. It’s the only excuse I can think of on the spur of the moment. He gives me a long look that makes me feel guilty about the lie.

He takes my hand. “It’s been pointed out that I’m not good at communication. I’m also not good with sharing... feelings.” He pauses for so long I think he’s finished. But then he looks up, and brings my hand to his lips, gently kissing my palm, sending tingles through my entire body.

“I’ve backed you into a corner one too many times. I don’t know if I can change, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

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