She looks over. “I just met them. The one in the middle is Mr. Masters. He owns this yacht. He must be fucking loaded,” she whispers.
“And the other two?”
“The blond one is Spencer Jones.” Her eyes linger on him. “Fucking gorgeous. Have you seen his smile?”
“I have.”
“The other one is a politician, apparently.”
“Oh.” I widen my eyes. “Jeez.”
They laugh out loud again.
“Christo must have told them he’s dating one of us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“They just asked me which one of us is his girlfriend because they want to meet her.”
“Oh.” I screw up my face. “Great.” I plaster on my fake smile and head on out to the deck.
“Come over here.” Masters holds his arm out for me as he waves me over.
I walk over and awkwardly hold my tray out with a smile. “Sushi, gentlemen?”
“Put that down and talk to us,” the man with the black hair says as he pulls up a stool beside him.
“Hayden is very busy,” Christopher replies. “Get back to work, Hayden.”
What?
“No, no, no. Never too busy for us,” Spencer replies as he taps the chair. “Sit down.”
“Hello.” I smile.
“Julian Masters.” He holds his hand out to shake mine. “How do you do?”
“Hello. I’m Hayden.”
“Hayden who?” He raises an eyebrow in question.
“Funeral Home,” Christopher cuts in before I can answer.
Huh? My eyes flick to Christopher in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
“That’s the cocktail I’m making.” He fakes a smile. “To the funeral home we go.”
They roar with laughter.
“I’m Spencer.” The blond man smiles as he holds out his hand. “You can call me Spence.”
Christopher shakes his cocktail shaker hard and at lightning speed above his shoulder as he glares at Spencer.
I frown over at him. He’s acting very weird tonight.
“I’m Sebastian Garcia,” the dark-haired man purrs in a deep, sexy voice. He takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it.
A tea towel flicks at high speed past my face and whips Mr. Garcia in the face. “Damn flies,” Christopher snaps.
Huh?
“There are no flies at night,” I say.
“Sand flies.”
The men laugh out loud again, so hard that they can hardly stay seated on their stools.
What the hell is so funny?
Christopher fills the three cocktail glasses in front of him. “Here you go. Three trips to the funeral home.”
Masters picks his up and takes a sip. “That’ll do it.” He winces.
Spencer takes a sip and scrunches his face up. “Fuck, that’s bad.”
“Are you having fun?” I ask them.
“Sure am,” Sebastian replies. “There’s only one thing that will make this night better.”
“What’s that?” I smile.