Page 168 of The Storm

I grin. “Is that a nice way of saying it’s too much?”

“A bit.”

We both laugh.

“I think it’s pretty impressive, actually,” he says. “Can’t imagine how much work it takes to put something like this together.”

“A lot,” I say. “I haven’t slept properly in weeks.”

“Oh! You’re an event planner?”

“Christ, no.” I laugh. “Never again. I’m the PA of the guy who’s hosting this thing.” I send him another look. “And you’re… Umm…”

He waits for a bit, but when I fail to come up with anything, a slow smile spreads across his face.

“You don’t remember me,” he says.

I wince. “I…” I shake my head.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Promise. Uh, Julian? We met?—”

“In the club,” I say when it clicks. “Fuck. Sorry. I was pretty drunk.” I groan. “That makes me sound even worse.”

He laughs again, and now he’s starting to look almost relaxed, not at all the nervous guy I remember from that night at the club.

“Indy,” I say.

“Nice to meet you again, Indy,” he says.

“What brings you here, Julian?” I ask.

He points to the big case that’s propped against the wall behind him. “I’m the entertainment.”

“Are you?” I ask.

He nods. “You hired a cellist.”

“You’re a musician?” I say.

“Trying my best, at least.”

We smile at each other.

“A cellist. I’ve never met a cellist before.”

“Well, you know what they say about cellists.” He leans closer.

I shake my head. “No. What do they say about cellists?”

His skin is so fair that I can see the blush move higher over his cheeks in real time.

“Shit,” he says. “I actually don’t have a follow-up for that. I was… I was trying to flirt? Oh, crap. I’m not supposed to say that, am I? It’s meant to be obvious. I… I was going to say something about knowing how to handle an instrument, but then I chickened out, and that’s not me anyway. I wouldn’t know what to do with an instrument. Apart from a cello.”

I start to laugh. He’s cute. He’s really fucking cute. Stupidly cute.

He drops his head back and groans.

“Sorry. I’m gonna go be somewhere else.”