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The Bartender (Modern Love World)

Page 9

by Piper Rayne


  “I don’t think we’re picking it, we just need to figure out the best options so they can spend their limited time looking at those.”

  “I’m still in disbelief that Tahlia wouldn’t want to do all this on her own. I need to call her.”

  “You really think I’m making this shit up?” Cole asks in an annoyed voice.

  “Relax. Just let me call her.” I grab my phone from my purse and pull up Tahl’s contact info then hit the little green button to call her.

  “Yeah?” she answers, sounding rushed.

  “Hey, Tahl. It’s me. I was just talking to Cole and he was telling me that you and Chase want us to vet some places for the ceremony.”

  “Yes, sorry. I’ve been meaning to call you all day, but work has been crazy and I had to run home and pack. To the airport, please,” she says to someone else. I hear a car door slam a second later and realize she must have just gotten into a cab.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Just a small crisis at one of the plants out of state. I have to go work my magic.”

  “All right then. I’m happy to help. I just wanted to hear it from you.” I purse my lips in concern for my friend.

  “Thanks, Whit. I’ll text you a list of places to check out as soon as I’m through security and waiting at the gate, okay?”

  “For sure. I’m surprised you’re not getting married in a church.”

  “We were both raised on capitalism, not Catholicism.” She gives a rueful laugh. “We’ve decided to go with a non-denominational venue. I’m swamped here at work this week and I know you have a little extra time on your hands…” She pauses because I know she feels bad saying it, but it’s the truth. “From what Chase says Cole doesn’t take work too seriously, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind driving you around.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  “Just take lots of pictures. And Whit?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re the best.”

  Any trepidation I have about roaming the city side by side with Cole eases at the warmth of her voice. I know she’s under a lot of pressure at work and I do have the time to help her out. I want her day to be exactly what she envisions and anything to help her achieve that, I’ll do.

  I hit end on the call and look across to Cole. “Well, this should be interesting.”

  The sly grin that pulls up one corner of his mouth tells me that interesting is probably the least of what the next couple of days will be.

  13

  “What’s next on the list?” Cole asks me from the driver’s seat of his Jeep.

  I scroll through my notes on my phone. “Bluxome Street Winery,” I say. “Fifty-three Bluxome Street.”

  Cole punches the address into his phone and follows the directions of the annoying computer lady. I wonder if he knows that you can change the setting so that it’ll sound like a hot Australian guy?

  This is our third stop today. The first two places were busts and nowhere near regal or posh enough for Tahlia and Chase. I’m starting to understand why they stuck us with handling all the runaround for them. This endeavor is seriously labor-intensive.

  We find parking on the street and make our way over to a very industrial-looking building. It’s clean and modern, but I’m still surprised this was on Tahlia’s list. Tahl is more what I would call a traditionalist and I don’t see much here that I think would appeal to her.

  We step inside and the place is essentially one big open-space warehouse with super-high ceilings. The rafters are wrapped in twinkle lights and at the far end of the room are shelves filled with wooden barrels, presumably of wine. Industrial lights encased with round glass hang from the ceiling, giving a trendy vibe rather than that of a run-down warehouse.

  “Are you Whitney and Cole?” An attractive woman in her mid-twenties approaches us from a doorway I didn’t notice on the left. She smiles at us both and I don’t miss the way her eyes linger a little longer on Cole.

  Can’t say I blame her. He’s wearing dark denim today, hiking boots, and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Oh, and he’s let his beard grow in a little more than normal so he’s giving off this rough-and-tumble, woodsy outdoorsman vibe.

  Not that I’ve given it much thought or anything.

  “You must be Claudia?” I ask, remembering the name of the woman we’d be meeting from the notes in my phone.

  “That’s me.” She shakes both our hands when she reaches us. “I spoke with Tahlia earlier this week and she said to expect the both of you. I handle all the event bookings here.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Cole says and smiles in a friendly way.

  I can tell that Claudia is charmed by him and I immediately divert all our attention back to the reason we’re here.

  “Would you be able to show us around and explain how the ceremony would be run here?” I ask.

  She blinks a couple of times—catching herself, I think—then smiles. “Of course. Follow me.”

  “Do you mind if I take pictures to send to Tahlia?” I ask.

  “I’d like to take some as well if you don’t mind,” Cole says.

  “Of course not.” She turns and starts walking toward the back of the warehouse and we both follow. “I have a book back here with pictures in it of some of the various events we’ve hosted here. It will give you an idea of how well we can transform the space depending on what vibe the bride and groom are going for.”

  We all gather around a large photo album on one of the tables. Claudia points out some of the various options different weddings have chosen to use.

  “Do you have a brochure I could take with us?” Cole asks.

  “I’ll be sure to get you one before you leave.” She pats his shoulder and he smiles over at her.

  I’m beginning to feel like the third wheel.

  For the next half an hour Claudia tries to sell us on the space and how perfect it would be for a Webber wedding. The place is lovely, but I’m not really getting the feeling that this is what Tahlia has in mind. I haven’t had to do much talking because Cole has suddenly become Chatty Cathy, asking all kinds of questions and showing a real interest in the place.

  He had next to nothing to say at all the other places and suddenly he can’t keep his trap shut. What gives? Is it the set of double D’s on Claudia that were missing from our first two stops?

  “How many people can you fit in here for a ceremony?” he asks.

  “Approximately a hundred and fifty seated and three hundred standing.”

  He rubs at the stubble on his jaw with one hand. It’s the most mundane of actions but the throbbing in my nether regions has me shifting my weight. “I doubt this will be big enough for what they have in mind,” he says more to himself. I’m still admiring his movements when he directs his attention over to me. “Any idea how many guests they’re inviting?”

  I copy Claudia’s earlier actions and blink myself out of the trance I’m in before I can respond. “Um… no. I forgot to ask.”

  “Okay, well, we’ll report back to my brother and his fiancée and they can figure it out from there. Thanks so much for your time today, Claudia.”

  She blushes when he takes her hand in his and shakes it. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  I’m sure there’s an invitation there based on her sultry tone, but Cole doesn’t seem to notice, casually putting his hands into his front pockets while I say my goodbye to our eager hostess.

  We’re silent as we make our way back to his Jeep. Once we’re inside and I’ve given him the address of our next stop I decide to just voice what I’m thinking in my head.

  “You seemed very interested in there. I don’t think you spoke more than five sentences at the first couple of places. What gives?”

  He glances over at me for a second before returning his attention back to the road. “I like how they’ve been able to come up with another stream of income to offset the costs of their primary business, that’s all.” He shrugs, dismissing my curios
ity, but I know. I just know there’s more to it. “Do you want to grab something to eat after this next one? I’m starved,” he says.

  “Sure.” I lean back in my seat, deciding to let the subject go for now. I’ll get to the bottom of it though. I don’t want to be an investigative reporter for nothing.

  14

  Cole and I step up the staircase in front of the Bentley Reserve building and a giddy excitement invades my stomach. This place feels very much like something my friend might want for her big day. The building is an old bank built in the early 1920’s and as we enter I take in the soaring hall, travertine walls, and Italian marble floors. We both stop in place and use the moment to take in the picturesque view.

  “Tahlia wasn’t able to get a hold of the events coordinator here, so we’re just going to have to see if they’ll show us around,” I say.

  He nods and we take a few more steps forward, the sound of our shoes echoing off the floors and the thirty-something foot ceiling above.

  An older gentleman dressed in a navy suit approaches us immediately. “Can I help you?” His chin is raised and he gives off an aura of sophistication and snobbery. As if the two of us are not good enough to be here.

  True, we’re not dressed as nicely as he is, but that’s no reason for him to give us attitude.

  “We’re here to check out the venue for a wedding,” I say.

  The man makes a show of taking me in from top to bottom and then does the same to Cole. I guess he doesn’t find the lumbersexual look as appealing as it is to me. “The price list is online. You might want to look at that first. I’m not sure you’ll find it… suitable.”

  My cheeks heat and I clench my fists at my side, wanting so badly to give this man a piece of my mind, but knowing I can’t screw this up for Tahlia. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can say a word Cole’s large hand takes mine. He pries open my fingers and intertwines them with his own. Heat radiates up my arm and I look over at him, my eyes wide.

  “I can assure you, Mr…” Cole lets it hang there until the man is forced to answer.

  “Berkshire.” He says it with such superiority that I want to slap the smug look off his face.

  “I can assure you, Mr. Berkshire, that money is no object for my fiancée and I.” Cole squeezes my hand and looks over at me and then winks with the eye that the other man can’t see.

  I smile back, intrigued by this game he’s playing, but more than willing to participate if it means making this jerk in front of us feel as small as he made me feel.

  Mr. Berkshire clasps his hands in front of him. “All the same, you should look online first, and then if you find it within your means you can call to book an appointment with me. We don’t take walk-ins.”

  “I tried to call several times to book an appointment,” I say.

  The man’s eyes narrow the tiniest amount. “Yes, well, we’ve been having some trouble with our voicemail system as of late.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m sure hosting a Webber wedding would have been quite the coup for your establishment,” Cole says. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go find something else.” Cole drops my hand and places his own on the small of my back to lead me out of the building, but we’re stopped when the dickhead makes the connection.

  “Webber? As in the real-estate and restaurant Webbers?”

  “The one and only,” Cole says. If I didn’t already know him, I would find the air of supremacy around him believable. It’s fascinating how easily he’s able to change his persona. “I’m Chase Webber and this is my fiancée Tahlia Santora.”

  Mr. Berkshire’s face flames scarlet and he gives us a hesitant smile. Serves him right. “Oh, please do forgive me. I had no idea.” He clasps his hands together in front of him. “We have so many couples wander in here without bothering to check out the pricing. I’m sure you can understand that we can’t afford to devote our time to tire-kickers when we have much more distinguished guests such as yourself to attend to.”

  “See that it doesn’t happen again,” I say, taking my turn at this rich bitch thing. It’s kind of fun.

  “Of course not,” Mr. Berkshire says. “Can I show you around the space and answer any questions you might have?”

  Cole and I look at each other and pretend we’re mulling it over for a second before he nods. “I suppose we’d still like to see what you have to offer.”

  “Very good,” Mr. Berkshire says with a nod before turning on his heel. “Right this way.”

  What follows is a very in-depth tour of the place and though I’m not fond of the man in charge, I really think Tahlia will love how regal this place is. Cole continues to act like we’re the happy couple—either holding my hand or with his arm around my waist the entire time we’re checking the place out. It feels natural and it’s easy to slip into the role of Cole’s fiancée. So much so that I have to remind myself not to get too carried away.

  As we finish up it seems that Mr. Berkshire may have saved the best for last. He motions behind us. “For the ceremony, Tahlia, you can make quite the dramatic entrance down our grand marble-and-steel staircase.” He’s smiling and he should be, because I can totally envision Tahlia in a large ballroom wedding gown inching her way down the stairs while all the guests look on from below.

  A slow smile creeps across my face and Cole squeezes my hip with the arm he has slung around my waist, drawing me from my revelry.

  “What do you think, sweetheart?”

  I lock gazes with him. “I think it might be perfect,” I say in a gentle voice.

  “Why don’t you head to the top of the staircase and see what your entrance will be like?”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I can picture it and it’s lovely.”

  “You should give it a try,” Cole urges.

  “I insist,” Mr. Berkshire says. He steps forward and takes my hand, leading me to the bottom of the steps. “Head on up and pretend it’s your big day.”

  I nod and take the many steps up to the top of the grand structure.

  “Now, picture yourself in your wedding gown. Music is playing announcing your big entrance. The man of your dreams is waiting for you to make him the luckiest man in the world.”

  I close my eyes briefly and do as he says. Instinctively I position my hands in front of me as if I’m clutching a bouquet of flowers.

  “Now, take the stairs slowly, one at a time.”

  I open my eyes and do as he says. My eyes are trained on Cole the entire time. Each step brings me closer to him and his gaze doesn’t waver either. Step by step I near him and the closer I get the stronger the connection between us feels. The imaginary swish of a wedding dress sounds each time I step down, I smell the pretend scent of the flowers I’m not carrying, and I can almost hear the classical music playing in the background. I have bought into this fairy tale one hundred percent.

  By the time I reach the final step Cole’s hazel eyes are blazing and I can’t look away.

  We remain there, staring at each other, until our tour guide clears his throat. I blink a couple of times and then turn my attention back to the older gentleman.

  It’s so easy to get caught up in this with Cole and forget that this is not real. We are not the happy couple and I’d do well to remind myself of that.

  I blink a couple of times and let my hands drop before I take up my position beside Cole again.

  “How many guests can you accommodate?” Cole asks in an authoritative voice that belies the moment we just shared.

  “Up to three hundred and fifty.”

  “Perfect,” Cole responds.

  There’s silence then as the two of us glance around the place again, committing it to memory. I pull out my phone to take a few candid shots for Tahl.

  Without warning, my stomach growls and I swear the sound echoes throughout the cavernous room, bouncing off the walls and reverberating so that it’s too loud to pretend it didn’t just happen. I place my hand over my stomach, but it’s too late. Cole is already chuckling beside
me.

  “We’d better be going. It seems my fiancée needs to be fed.”

  My cheeks heat, but I ignore it and try to continue to play the high-society bride-to-be. “Thank you for taking the time to show us around.” I extend my hand and shake Mr. Berkshire’s and then Cole does the same.

  The older man walks us to the exit and holds the door open for us. “Before you go, if I may be so bold as to say so…” Cole nods at him and he continues. “I see a lot of couples come through these doors and it’s clear to me that you two are the real deal. I can always tell by the way the bride and groom look at one another. It’s always in the eyes.” He taps his temple with his index finger. “Congratulations on your upcoming marriage. I know you’ll spend many happy years together.”

  Cole shifts on his feet for a second and mumbles out a thank you before leading me down the many steps at the front of the building.

  Hmm. Maybe I don’t dislike Mr. Berkshire as much as I thought. Then again, he’s probably just blowing smoke up our asses to try to land us as clients.

  Still, as I walk away holding Cole’s hand I can’t help but wonder which it was—truth or lie?

  And that’s when I realize that the bigger problem is that I actually care about the answer.

  15

  Cole insists on feeding me before dropping me back off at home and so we each grab a sandwich from a take-out spot and he drives us to the top of Twin Peaks, an elevation that sits almost in the center of the city, to take in the view. We sit on one of the rock walls looking out over the city, our feet dangling below us.

  It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve felt at peace… content.

  “My grandparents used to take me up here all the time when I was a little girl.” I smile, reliving the memories in my mind, and then take another bite of my sandwich.

  “I’ve always liked it up here,” Cole says. “Well, when it’s not the middle of tourist season.”

  We both laugh because it’s so true. If it were in the middle of summer this place would be crawling with people and you’d be lucky to find a spot along the edge to see the view of the city. But since it’s fall there’s only a scattering of people here. Well, at least until the next tour bus comes by.

 

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