Jason grinned ear to ear. “I told you not to bet.”
Nick turned back to the women. “We played Choosies on the plane. I lost.”
Jason said to Adaku, “We also listened to Sewanee’s most recent June project, the one you starred in.” He shook his head, looking a bit awestruck. “Wonderful. You were incredible.”
“Aww,” Adaku cooed. “Thank you.” She hip-bumped Sewanee. “It’s all her brilliant direction.”
Sewanee hadn’t had a chance yet to tell Nick about the Broadway producer who had reached out to Adaku’s people about doing a staged reading/workshop of the project. She’d give him the news later. She had many things to give him later.
Adaku clapped her hands together. “So what can I get you both?” She looked down at the bar. “We have a rum punch and all the martini ingredients available for purchase in this entire city.” Nick said he’d have some punch and Sewanee ladled him a cup.
Jason leaned over to peruse the options. Adaku watched him avidly. “The punch looks great, but I’m sober, so–”
She clapped her hands again. “Ooh I got you covered!” She bent to a box behind the bar. “Do you like grapefruit? I started making this drink when I was in training for a job I ended up not doing, but the drink stuck! It’s . . .”
Sewanee was sure Adaku’s story was absolutely riveting, especially given the way Jason seemed to be hanging on her every word. But she was otherwise engaged. She was staring at Nick. And he at her.
She slipped out from behind the bar, but just as she was about to step into Nick’s embrace, Stu and Marilyn descended upon them, clapping Nick on the back and yanking him into hugs. Sewanee, impatiently patient, waited for what felt like an eternity, as they caught him up on what seemed like every port of call they’d visited in the last eight months. Then Stu said, “Swanners sent us your new song! ‘June’s Bloom,’ right? Terrific. And hey, I’m still waiting for that call to fill in on keys.”
“Anytime.” Through their laugh, Nick caught Stu’s eye and said sincerely, “Cheers, mate.”
Stu answered in kind. “Anytime, Nickster. Anytime.”
“I think it’s my favorite one, Nick. Just beautiful,” Marilyn enthused, hands at her heart. “Is it going on the album?”
More eternity passed. This was cruel and unusual punishment. After Mark had stopped by, and she’d introduced Nick to Henry, and Mitzi had hobbled over to ask him, yet again, if he was single, Sewanee managed to extricate him. She dragged him around the side of the building, took his empty cup, set it on the ground, and pounced on him like a lynx.
After a minute of tender kisses and gently roving hands, he flipped her around until her back was against the wall and things between them, as they were wont to do, turned.
“I want to go,” she breathed.
“But where?”
It was a good question. For the last three months, since Doug Carrey bought Mark’s place, she’d been living in Adaku’s two-bedroom bungalow with the thin walls. But now Adaku was back from filming. She was regretting their decision to invite Nick and Jason to stay with them there this weekend. They should have gotten a hotel.
“Austin?” she suggested, unseriously though desperately.
Nick chuckled. “Six of one.” He and Jason had been living in their producer’s tiny pool house while trying to finish the album.
“I want space,” she whined, against his lips. “Hey. I just inherited some grazing land in Tennessee.”
“Well, maybe that’s where we should moooooooove.”
She laughed fully into his mouth. “But that doesn’t help us right now.”
“True. Back to the problem at hand.”
She smirked. “The problem at hand. You know how I feel about euphemisms.”
Nick brought his hand up between them. The one with the ring on his middle finger. “Who says it was a euphemism?” Then, not taking his eyes off her, he gave the ridge of the ring a familiar lick.
Sewanee’s eye bulged. “Nick! No!” She looked frantically around. They were literally beside a dumpster. In the alley of an old folks’ home.
He didn’t say a word. He kept his gaze on her, as he slid the ring off his finger and reached down–
“Are you insane?!”
–And gently lifted her left hand. It floated up, suspended between them. He slipped his ring onto her fourth finger.
Sewanee’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.