Page 2 of Even After This
He must possess superpowers because the vein in her forehead disappears and her face transitions to resignation.
Handsome Man shifts to me. “Penelope did an excellent job planning our event for this weekend. The good news is we can spare a table for you tonight.” He sweeps his arm toward the room. “Please stay and enjoy dinner.”
“Really? Oh, goodness. Thank you.” My sigh of relief is louder than I intend. If I stay, I get this social experiment over with now. If I go, I’ll have to do all of this over again.
Worse, I’ll have to find another outfit.
“Thank you so much. I promise, you won’t even notice I’m here.”
Penelope returns my peace offering with a blank face.
Once the maître d’ settles me into my high-backed booth, I gaze over the Penrose Room. My view of the live band and dance floor is unhindered. The open semicircle seats allow guests to sit next to their dining partners instead of across from them. But my solitary status places me at the center of the plush leather cushion. I recall previous trips to this historic hotel and the familiar burgundy, royal blue, and golden hues that cover the room in luxury.
As if it remembers I’m returning to the restaurant, this time without my husband, the opulent booth welcomes me back into the safety of its cove.
But sitting alone isn’t for sissies. I can almost feel curious stares aimed in my direction.
When I lean forward to unravel my swan napkin, I catch someone approaching the table in my peripheral vision.
“I owe you an apology.” Handsome Man, wearing a sheepish smile, moves to stand in front of my table.
“You didn’t need to accommodate me. My schedule is flexiblethis week. I could have come back.” I try to hold his stare, but it feels like I could drown in those beautiful deep brown eyes, and I’m not sure I want to go swimming yet.
“Our group is a little high-maintenance.” Handsome Man shrugs, but instead of making him appear boyish, the gesture exudes calm confidence. “I didn’t want to ask the hotel to make one more exception for us.”
“Yeah, but double-booking is their mistake.”
“Agreed. However, I’m confident you can behave yourself.”
I ignore the gleam in his eye and nod to where Penelope stands, her clipboard hugged to her chest as she surveys the room. “Your friend might not agree with you.”
Handsome Man glances over his shoulder. “Penelope? Her heart’s in the right place. She’s my assistant, and the details for tonight kind of fell in her lap. I told her a bad joke and made her laugh, so that should help.”
“A bad joke?” My tone feigns offense, but I add with a smile, “Is that how you always deal with women?”
What am I doing? My attempt at flirting was not only rusty but a complete surprise to me. I want to disappear.
The man’s eyes flash, and he breaks out a roguish grin. “No. Sometimes I ask them to dance.”
Wait. What?
Does he mean me?
“I’m sorry.” I tilt my head. “I didn’t catch your name?”
He studies me for a beat, and his grin shifts into a blinding smile. “I’m Harlan Holcombe.”
Oh no. I cover my face with my hands and start rocking back and forth, shaking my head. Invisibility seems impossible at this point. Can I will myself into spontaneous combustion? “No, no, no.”
“You’re going to be fine.” His playful tone belies the seriousness of the situation.
I rub my temples. “You’re Hercules.”
“No, I’m not.” His words break through a chuckle.
“Yes, you are.” I snap my head up. “I saw it.” Hyperventilating is a real threat at this moment. Ofcoursehe looked familiar.
Harlan Holcombe, the Hercules of Hollywood’s silver screen.
