On the way back to the bar, she poked her head into the kitchen to say hi to Charlie, the chef at the Barrel.
“Loved the arancini, Charlie,” Margot said.
“Thanks, Margot. And welcome back,” Charlie said.
Sydney stopped Margot outside of the kitchen.
“How much do you love me?” she asked.
Margot looked at her sideways. This meant either something very good or very bad.
“Very much. Why are you asking me this, here, right now?”
Sydney grinned at her. That grin meant it was very bad.
“Oh no. Don’t do this to me again,” Margot said.
Sydney’s grin got bigger.
“Oh yes. You didn’t even glance at him when he sat down, but that guy sitting next to you is adorable. And because you love me, you’ll take advantage of this.”
Sydney had been trying this for months now. Margot never took the bait.
“Are you going to just keep this up until I give in someday?”
She looked over at the bar and saw the guy Sydney was talking about. He was adorable, Sydney was right. Black, warm brown skin, a slightly scruffy beard, kind of dorky looking, but in a good way. However.
“Oh good Lord, my answer is definitely no. What is he, like twenty-six? Twenty-seven? Way too young for me! I’ll be thirty-five in a few months, Syd!”
Sydney rolled her eyes.
“Who cares how old he is? I’m just telling you to talk to the man, not have babies with him. You need some stress relief! Come on, it’ll be fun. If you do it, I’ll give you free wine.”
Margot laughed.
“You always give me free wine.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll give you free food,” Sydney said.
Margot just looked at her.
“Fine, fine,” Sydney said. “If you say hi to him—just hi, that’s all you have to do—I’ll let you pay for your wine.”
Oh wow. Sydney had never tried that one before.
Margot shook her head and walked back to her seat.
“Nice try,” she said over her shoulder.
As Margot shimmied up onto her barstool, she glanced at the guy next to her. He stared down at the menu with a small frown on his face. He let out a sigh and looked up at the bar; she could tell his mind wasn’t on the menu.
There was no reason for her to wonder where this man’s mind actually was, or what was bothering him, or why he was here at the Barrel tonight. He was far too young for her.
He pulled off his hoodie, seemingly for no other reason than to show off his biceps, right there next to Margot. But hey, they were very good biceps; if he wanted to show them off, Margot wouldn’t stop him.
Sydney caught her eye and grinned. She’d definitely seen Margot checking this guy out. Margot couldn’t help but grin back. Okay, fine, after the day she’d had, it was a nice break to ogle the guy sitting on the barstool next to her—she’d admit it.
Might as well make Sydney’s day. Plus, maybe if she did it, just this once, Sydney would get off her back.
“Hi,” she said as she picked up her wineglass. “I’m Margot.”
He turned to her, with a quick smile.
“Hi, Margot. I’m Luke.”
* * *
“HI, LUKE,” THE WOMAN sitting next to him said.
He’d noticed her right when he’d walked into the restaurant: She’d laughed at something the bartender had said, and her laugh had carried all the way to the front door. It was a deep, throaty, warm laugh, and it had made him look at her right away, and had made him particularly pleased that the seat next to her was empty. He’d eavesdropped a little on her conversation with the bartender after he’d sat down, but after she’d left to go to the bathroom, he’d gone back to staring down at the menu and wondering if he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
It was a relief to turn to her, to have someone else to talk to, to get out of his own head, if only for a few minutes.
“Are you new in town, or just visiting?” Margot asked him.
He tried to figure out how to answer that.
“Neither,” he said. “I grew up here, and I just moved back, but only for a little while. Three months, max. Probably less.” That was probably way more information than she’d wanted. “But how could you tell? That I’m not a local, I mean.”
“Oh.” She swirled the wine in her glass and grinned at him. “Your clothes.”
He frowned at her and looked down at himself.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?”
She laughed that throaty laugh again.