Her eyebrows furrow together and her face scrunches up in confusion, and Maxwell lets out a deep bark of laughter and speaks before she gets the chance to answer. “We have a reservation under Lewis for two.”
“What? Oh! Right.” Poor, flustered Romy shakes her head, her long, bouncy curls falling in front of her face, and reaches for two menus. “This way.”
She leads us to our table, the faint music and loud conversations distracting from the awkward silence that’s fallen between us.
“Here you are.” She gestures to the small corner table nestled against the brick wall. “Julia will be your server tonight.”
“Sorry for making that awkward,” I say as I take my seat, successfully making this interaction more awkward. “What I meant to say is if you ever find yourself at HERS in Five Points, and I’m not there, tell whoever’s working that Brynn said your bill is on the house.”
Her eyes light up and my shoulders fall by what feels like a solid three inches. “Oh my god. I’ve been dying to go there! I knew you looked familiar. Love the Player is, like, my new favorite show. Me and my girls have watch parties every week. I don’t know much about football, but I’m a reality TV expert.”
Don’t offer her a job again. Don’t offer her a job again. Don’t—
“Well . . . I’m always looking for new people to join our staff. And giving genuine compliments and being well versed in reality TV are two of my main requirements, if you’re interested in joining our team.”
Oh well. I only have so much restraint. Okay. Whatever. I have zero restraint but that’s what makes me a motherfuckin’ go-getter.
Romy looks over her shoulder like she’s afraid her boss is going to appear and ream her out for encouraging me. “Is it true a lot of Mustangs players and their wives come in or is that just for the show?”
I studiously ignore Maxwell, who is watching me with unabashed interest in my answer.
“Lots of wives come in and a few players, but nobody impressive.” I watch Maxwell’s reaction out of the corner of my eye and am super satisfied when he has to pick up his menu to hide his smile.
Romy shrugs. “I doubt I’d recognize any of the players anyways. Except TK Moore.” She closes her eyes as if she’s conjuring up a maybe-dressed picture of him in her head. “It’s a shame he retired. That hair and that body? He was the only reason I watched.” Her eyes fly open and both hands cover her mouth, and I have no doubt her brown skin is warm to the touch. “Oh my god. I am so sorry.”
Maxwell is full-out laughing now, and I’m pretty sure I found Vonnie’s long-lost sister.
“So you’re hired. Seriously, if you want it, stop by and we’ll get things sorted.” I pull out one of my business cards that I always have stocked in my wallet and hand it to her. “Also, would you happen to be related to Vonnie Lamar?”
“No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Come work at HERS and you’ll see,” I say. I think adding a little bit of mystery is always a good idea when courting new employees.
“Okay, I will.” She looks at the card and then smiles a megawatt smile. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“I’m not used to sitting with a celebrity,” Maxwell jokes as Romy hurries back to the empty hostess stand with a growing crowd. “Do you think she’ll validate our parking now?”
“It’s complimentary valet.” I roll my eyes.
He smiles wide, his white teeth bright against his full lips. “For ballers like you, maybe.”
“This is true. You really need to step your game up, Lewis.”
“Eh.” He lays his menu flat on the table and cocks his head to the side. “It’s a turn-on being with a powerful woman.”
“Hi, I’m Julia.” A peppy woman in black slacks and a white button-up appears next to us. “Can I start you folks with something to drink?”
“A margarita on the rocks, and stat, Julia.”
“I’ll just have water, thanks.” Maxwell’s heated eyes don’t move from me as he orders.
“Got it.” Julia tucks her notepad into her apron and turns on her heel.
Maxwell looks at me over the top of his menu. “And to think, this entire night is just the appetizer for when we get back home.”
Oh.
My.
God.
“We could always just order to go,” I suggest.
At that, he throws his head back and laughs. His entire beautiful face somehow becomes more beautiful, and my insides go liquid knowing that I made it that way. And I know, without a doubt in my mind, that nothing in this world could ruin this night.
“Brynn?” A finger taps me on the shoulder, and I turn to see Eloise. “Oh my god! Hi!”
But she’s not alone.
Well, fuck. I guess there is something—or someone—who could ruin this night.
“Hey, Bro,” Theo says, something so off about his tone and the glint in his eyes that a chill goes down my spine . . . and not the good kind either. “You’re a hard guy to get in touch with.”
Twenty-nine
“Brynn,” Maxwell says. The carefree man who was just in front of me is long gone, and a version of him that I’ve never seen is in its place. His eyes are like ice. The tendons in his neck are bulging and his hands are balled up in fists against the tabletop. “Go find Julia and tell her we’ll be taking our order to go.”
“We can’t take margaritas to go,” I joke, but Maxwell’s eyes slice to me and shut me up.
“You know how much I love your smart mouth, but please, just this one time, please just go.”
My eyes flicker between him and his brother. Both of them are still, the only movement is the twitching of their square jaws.
Side by side, they look nothing alike. Though I thought Theo seemed built when we first met, he looks a bit like a slouch with Maxwell in front of him. There are deep lines surrounding Theo’s mouth that can only come from frowning, which is a stark contrast to Maxwell’s unmarked face.
“Umm . . .” Eloise shifts nervously beside me, looking between the two brothers. “Am I missing something here?”
I jump out of my seat, and the loud squeak of the chair against the distressed wooden floor draws the eyes of diners nearby. “Come with me?” I ask Eloise, but I grab her hand and start pulling her away before she has an opportunity to answer.
“What the hell is that about?” she asks once we’re out of earshot.