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“Right, well, if you see Xander, kill him,” I deadpan.
He snorts, “No chance. He’d make a scene about it.”
I go downstairs and enter the bar, head on a swivel in case she beat me here. It’s a really great space with a navy and dark distressed wood theme. Between the bottles up-lit at the back of the bar and the lanterns on each booth and table, the ambient light sets the perfect atmosphere. Added bonus that it makes photography a bit more challenging. Plus, there’s a living wall running along one side and the sound of water is constant. Perfect.
Before leaving my suite, I rang down and asked them to reserve me a back booth with table service so we won’t have to go up to the bar. And hopefully we won’t be disturbed at all. The set up is perfect. Now all that’s left is to sit facing the door, watching for her to come in.
Chapter
Eleven
EVIE
I walk into the bar a little after 8:30, smiling at Mick near the door. He discreetly points towards the back of the room where I can see the top of Kellen’s head as he bends down to pick up the drinks menu.
I turn to Tommy before I stray too far from the door. “Get anything you want, Tom. You ok to sit with Mick?” I gesture towards the big man in a suit. Tommy nods and sits down, manoeuvring the stool to his preference. I smile at them both and move towards the back of the bar, drawing in a big breath as Kellen looks up at me and grins.
It’s a familiar grin that turns into a full on smile. Oh no, he’s bringing out the big guns.
Before this morning, I may have thought he remembered how much I liked that smile. But reality kicks in and I remember who he is, and how he operates. I have to keep cool, otherwise he could win our battle for control. And if that happens, I won’t be able to stop my son from hurting due to his whims.
He stands as I approach and opens his arms to bring me into a hug, kissing both cheeks. Ahh, he’s pretending to be a gentleman now. The polished veneer of the upper classes firmly on show. Not a hint of the carnage he caused this morning.
God he smells good. I can’t ignore the effect he has on me as his lips brush my cheek. I turn my head both ways, taking in his peppery and leather scent, not sure if it’s body wash or cologne, possibly both. But underneath, I close my eyes for a split second—summer sun, corn fields, sweat—Kellen.
Damn, he noticed. He stares at me, green to grey. No, not green; half his green has disappeared to black already. I need to cut this off. Now. I give him one of the fakest smiles I could ever muster and say, “Have you ordered?”
He looks at me for a beat and then gestures for me to sit opposite him. I notice he’s swapped sides from where he sat facing the door and now the door is behind him. Anyone coming in would only see the top of his head. I, however, am in full view.
“I hope you don’t mind facing. I don’t want us to be bothered and I didn’t want to have to wear a hat and glasses indoors.” His voice is way lower than normal and I stare at him.
I want to sound confident and positive, but instead I falter as my voice practically squeaks out, “It's fine, no problem.”
“Have you eaten?” he asks.
“Yes, I had something earlier. Brown was cooking for his girlfriend tonight, so I pinched a bit.” I smile at the thought of the fabulous food Jude had prepared. The man can cook. If building and architecture fail, he could start a second career as a chef.
“Does he do that a lot?” Kellen asks.
“What?” I ask. “Cook or have girlfriends over?”
“Both,” he smirks.
“Cook, yes. He’s the house chef when the cook is not here, or, to be fair, even if he is. Girlfriends, yeah, a lot.”
We sit in silence and just look at each other, neither one wanting to go first.
“Shall we order a drink?” I ask, turning to look towards the bar.
“Of course, anything you want. They should come to the table.” He looks around at the bar server who is hovering just out of earshot and gestures to her to come over. I notice the swaying hips in a slightly exaggerated fashion as the girl moves towards us. Oh boy, one of those nights.
Kellen doesn’t even look up at her, just says, “I’ll have a whiskey, Bushmills and ice. E?”
“Gin and tonic please.” I smile at her, but she’s not looking at me, she’s staring at Kellen.
The poor girl doesn’t move, so Kellen looks at her and asks, “Do you need something else?”
“Err no. Slimline tonic?” she asks, looking me up and down.
