Page 72 of Love and Lies

“Why would I think that when it’s a good idea? And I particularly like it because it’s your idea. You got a name for it yet?”

I hesitated again, then came out with it: “Adam & Eve. Eve for evening, and Adam for… you know.” I felt a lump in my throat and swallowed it down.

“It’s not sounding to me like you don’t want to get involved.” Mick smiled. “And I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I’m actually from a little backwater near Pittsburgh. When I came to New York, because a friend of my father’s opened a restaurant here and was looking for a chef, I thought I wasn’t going to last two days in this city. The noise, the crowds… it was all too much. I even bought myself a ticket home.”

I stared at him. “What stopped you?”

“What do you think?” He grinned. “I got to the bus station, my bag on my back, and there was a girl. She was there to pick someone up, I guess—she was just standing around getting in everyone’s way. I was about to yell at her to get out of there, but then she turned around, looked at me… and I was done for. From that day on, I never thought about leaving New York again. And we’re still married, me and my Elaine.”

I smiled sadly, as a different girl came to mind. Except mine and Helena’s story had finished long ago.

“Not everyone is as lucky as you. I don’t think there’s going to be a happy ending for me here in New York.”

“Who knows. Take some time and think about the restaurant, Jess. I’m not in a hurry with the sale, so you have time. But don’t take too long. It would be a real shame to be wheeled out of this place feetfirst before I’ve had a chance to whisk Elaine off to Europe.”

I laughed, despite the tightness in my throat. “I won’t keep you waiting too long, Mick, and especially not Elaine. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

The Emperor was one of the fanciest restaurants I’d inherited from my father, and as a result I rarely came here. It wasn’t because the cuisine was bad or the staff unfriendly—it wasn’t, and they weren’t. It was simply that I couldn’t bear to see the way the customers always had something to complain about, and failed to appreciate the restaurant’s excellent food, prepared with utmost dedication.

Today seemed to be another International Asshole Day. Samara and I had been seated for less than fifteen minutes before the server, Sarah, hurried past us for the third time, with a fresh cocktail on a tray and a very professional demeanor. But I didn’t stop her to ask why. Maya Fidero—the Emperor’s manager for the last ten years—and I weren’t exactly on the same wavelength, and I suspected she wouldn’t be thrilled if I stuck my nose in about how she ran the place—although I had every right to, as she knew.

“So what’s this about?” I asked Samara as she put her menu aside. She was dressed pretty much to the nines, in a dark jumpsuit and murderously high heels, and more makeup than she usually wore when we met. We’d hadn’t seen each other very much recently, and when we had, it was only in passing at some restaurant or club. We hadn’t been to bed together for weeks, but that wasn’t the reason she was so dressed up. In her message earlier that day, she’d said it was a business thing, and she wanted to invite me to a fancy dinner. I’d suggested the Emperor because I had to sort out the permits anyway, and this way I could make sure Sam didn’t pay.

“It’s about the whiskey brand my brother and I want to create.” She set down her wineglass. “My dad said he’d invest, since he thought the whole thing was going to be lucrative, but now he’s having doubts after all.”

“So you need money? You didn’t have to go to all this effort for that.” I gestured to include both the restaurant and her outfit.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Actually, I thought it would be nice to go on a date, since you haven’t been around for weeks. But hey, be an ass, by all means.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What? To not call, or to make me feel like an idiot?”

“Both. Actually, no… not calling you was intentional.”

“At least you’re honest.” Sam shook her head. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

It was my turn to shake my head. “God, no. You didn’t. It’s my fault, I… haven’t been myself lately.” That was the truth, even if I much preferred the version of “myself” I was with Helena. I missed her. I never thought I could miss someone so much that I hadn’t even gotten used to being with.

“And now you’re yourself again?”

“I’m getting there.” I shrugged. What choice did I have but to try to get Helena out of my head? If ever there was a relationship doomed to failure, it was ours. “I just didn’t know if you and I could hang out without… well, having sex. That’s why I didn’t call.”

“Are you serious?” Sam stared at me in disbelief. “We’re friends first and foremost, Jess. If you don’t want to have sex with me, for whatever reason, then just say so. We always agreed it wasn’t anything serious, just a bit of fun. I’m not in love with you—and I won’t be offended if we go back to being friends, without the benefits.”

I avoided her gaze. “I know that. I’m really sorry, Sam.”

“Stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong.”

I didn’t reply. It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to answer the question; Sarah had just walked past again, this time with menus under her arm and another brand-new martini on a tray. When she came back toward our table, I waved her down.

“Is someone making trouble?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, but it’s nothing.” She gave me a tired smile. “I can handle it; shitty customers are ten a penny. This guy is just a poser. He’s trying to impress his date.”

I grinned. “And is she impressed?”