I can’t help but laugh. “We’ll see about that.”
Taking a sip, I turn slightly to look at Lucky again. A different woman is now standing behind him, draping her arms over his shoulders and peppering his neck with kisses while he continues to play.
My face contorts on its own accord. “So…I guess he really likes the ladies, huh?”
Patrick steps out from behind the bar and leans against it next to me. “Yeah.”
I nod slowly and casually hold the glass at the level of my mouth. “Good to know.”
I can’t decide if it makes me feel better or worse about the faux pas of accidentally trying to kiss him at his show, but on some level, I feel an internal guard go up. Not that Lucky De Luca will have any interest in pursuing the likes ofme—the two women currently kissing on him arestunningand sexy, and I amnot—but the fact that he appears to be a total ladies’ man has me slightly on the defensive.
As if sensing he’s being watched and talked about, Lucky abruptly cuts a glance in my direction. He looks right at me through coy slits in his eyes, and a curl of smoke is wisping out between his parted lips. After a few more bars of the melody, he draws the song to a close and shrugs off the woman dangling her wrists over his shoulders. She steps away, unfazed by the brush-off and turning her attention to the woman perched on top of the piano, and Lucky stands up from the bench.
Holding the cigarette at the side of his thigh and slipping his opposite hand into the pocket of his trousers, he saunters away from the piano in a straight line directly toward me and Patrick. He walks right into my bubble, stopping only about a half an arm’s length from me, causing me to reflexively press my back hard against the bar, and lifts his arm like he’s reaching for me.
His eyes are focused on mine like lasers, and I have no idea what he’s doing, but I can’t look away. He’s close enough that I can smell his subtle scent; a combination of rich, musky tobacco, fine bourbon, and some kind of spicy cologne or aftershave. My lips part, my breathing picks up, and he’s so close that I can see the tiny speckles of microscopic facial hair on his clean-shaven cheeks and chin.
“Um,” I say in reflex, “hi, I’m—”
“Ava,” he says in that voice that makes meweak, and I’m suddenly so weak that I dart my eyes sideways from his. In doing this, I see that he’s actually reaching to snuff out his cigarette in an ornate, crystal ashtray on the bar behind me.
After a second, he retracts his hand to slip it in his pocket and offers his other one to me. “Glad you made it safely.”
I meet his palm with mine, and he lifts my hand to kiss my knuckles. “Thank you.”
Releasing my hand, he tilts his head sideways in a gesture at Patrick. “I see you’ve met Patrick.”
I turn my head to look at Patrick. The easy pleasantness of his expression has hardened into something imperceptible, and I’m not sure what to make of it. “I did. He let me in and showed me to my room.”
Lucky turns to Patrick and cocks his head at a dramatic angle. “Oh, did he?”
“Yeah,” Patrick says flatly. The two men stare each other down until Patrick breaks first, lifting his glass to salute me with it before stepping away. “Good meeting you, Ava. I’ll see you around.”
He makes it a few paces away from the bar before Lucky whistles at him. “Hey, make sure you’re back by nine so we can play.”
Patrick merely lifts his glass in the air but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him.
Lucky turns back to me with a coy smirk. “Ava, Ava, Ava.” He braces both hands on the bar behind me, caging me between his arms. “How are you, sweetie? How was your flight?”
He’s super close to me again. Close enough that if I avoid his gaze, it’ll be completely obvious. “Good,” I squeak, once again sounding like a mouse while I clutch my Sazerac to my chest.
Lucky peers at my face. “I’m making you nervous again, aren’t I?”
I frantically shake my head.
His smirk relaxes into an easy, warm, closed-lip smile as he continues to look deep down into my eyes. “You really are such a doll,” he murmurs, then leans forward to press a light kiss to my cheek. Stepping back, he slips his arm around my waist and presses his hand on the small of my back to firmly nudge me away from the bar. “Drink up, sweetie. It’ll help you loosen up. Let’s go say hi to your cohorts.”
Lucky’s confident strides are so long that I have to hastily shuffle my feet in an erratic speed-walk to keep up with him. We cross the room toward one of the ornate, vintage sofas where an elderly woman and a guy in his late thirties are seated with a man and woman from Lucky’s entourage. All four of them are all dressed up in roaring twenties outfits, and I obviously missed the memo at some point.
“Pearl, Stephen,” Lucky says, pulling me to a stop with his hand wrapped around the side of my waist, “I’d like to introduce the final member of your Top Fan squad,MizzAva Herald.”
I wave with my drink. “Hi.”
Pearl shifts enthusiastically on the sofa toward me while the redheaded woman from the entourage preens the sequined, feather-festooned headband on Pearl’s head. “Ava Herald! I know that name from Facebook-land!” She salutes me with her martini glass. “I’m so excited to meet you in person!” She picks up one end of the lush, black feather boa wrapped around her neck and flits it at me. “We’ve talked to each other on there before.”
Like a thunderclap of recognition, I suddenly recall both her and Stephen from Lucky’s posts. They both comment as often as I do, and she’s correct that we’ve talked to each other before.
This instantly sets me at ease, and I smile brightly. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Hi, Pearl!” I look at Stephen, who’s adjusting his black derby hat with a white satin band. “Hi, Stephen. It’s so awesome to meet you both. You know…in person.”
