“Shelly,” Mason greeted her as he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug.
Shelly gladly returned his embrace. After all, it was Mason Langley, and she wasn’t going to pass up a chance to get her hands on his sexy body, even if he was engaged to her best friend.
“Mason. How are you tonight?”
“Great, just great. Get in here. The food’s cooking, the wine’s open, and Lena’s at the bar making margaritas.”
Shelly smirked as he tugged her through the door.
Making her way inside, she walked down the main kitchen aisle that led them out to the dining area. Shelly looked to her left and saw her friend standing behind the huge mahogany bar that ran down the side of the restaurant. Lena raised a hand, waving at her.
Shrugging out of her coat, Shelly smiled as Mason took it from her.
“Full service tonight, Chef?”
As he grinned, matching dimples appeared. “Nothing but the best here at Exquisite,” he winked.
Nodding, Shelly tugged at her tight, little red skirt. “That’s actually true, including your alcohol. So, I’m going to go over to your woman and grab some.”
“Let her know I’ll be in the kitchen if she needs me.”
Already making her way toward the bar, Shelly called back over her shoulder, “Will do.”
Turning back, she stopped in front of her friend and colleague. “Where’s my usual Cosmo, huh?” Shelly grinned at Lena.
Lena arched a brow. “Sit down. Tonight, you’re trying Lena’s Margarita.”
“Oh, am I?” Shelly questioned, watching as her friend started to salt the four large glasses in front of her.
“Yep. You, Rach, and Wendy are my guinea pigs.”
“Lucky us.” Sighing, Shelly looked around at the now familiar bar and dining room.
“Hey, what’s up?” Lena asked.
Turning to face her friend, she shrugged, and then shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
Lena frowned and reached over the bar to grip Shelly’s hand. “Well, you shouldn’t. You’re wonderful, and we all love you.”
“I know you do, but I can’t have sex with you.”
Lena laughed, pulling her hand back to pick up the pitcher of margaritas. “Oh! I see. It’s that kind of feeling sorry for ourselves.”
Picking up a straw from the container on the bar, Shelly twirled it between her fingers. She blew out a breath and felt her blonde hair ruffle against her cheek.
“Yeah, it’s that kind of ‘I feel sorry for myself.’ I hate being sexually frustrated,” Shelly whined. “It sucks. Well, not literally, obviously, but you know what I mean.”
Lena rested a hip against the bar and pushed a margarita toward her. “Actually, no, I don’t. I’ve never felt like that.”
“What about before your sex god turned up?” Shelly asked, feeling a huge grin slide onto her face as Lena predictably stiffened slightly.
“Sex god? Really? Please don’t say that around him. The man already has a huge ego. You don’t need to feed it.”
Shelly picked up her drink, took a sip, and swallowed down the tart, icy liquid. Smiling, she nodded. “Okay, but I’m right, aren’t I?”
Grinning, Lena picked up her own glass, taking a sip. Looking over the rim at Shelly, she replied, “Oh yeah. He’s a god.”
“Lucky bitch,” Shelly accused, pouting, as Lena grinned from ear to ear.
Josh Daniels was having a bad day.
He’d just come from his lawyer’s office at Mitchell & Madison, and he was not happy. His last employer was trying to skip out on making their final payment, stating that Josh’s company had gone over by two days.
Stupid prick, he thought. If they hadn’t gone over, I would’ve ended up with shit work. Knowing the slimy little weasel, he would’ve sued for that, too!
He was definitely not having a good day.
Josh had decided to move back to Chicago after he broke things off with Melissa a little over six months ago. Originally, he’d moved to L.A. because she’d wanted to pursue an acting career. Cue the curtains and the eye rolling.
Turns out, the quickest way she saw to get to the top was by being on top—of the casting agent. Is it really so hard to find a nice, sweet woman who wants to settle down and marry? Apparently, it was because here he was back in cold-ass Chicago, which was currently rainy Chicago, making his way over to his friend’s new restaurant—alone.
Mason Langley. He hadn’t seen the guy for a little over two years. When he’d arrived back in town, he’d been so busy moving in and getting his business up and running that he didn’t have the time to track him down. It wasn’t until recently, when he’d caught a review on TV about Exquisite, that Josh had kicked himself into gear.
When they’d gone to school together and even through their college years at different universities, they’d been trouble with a capital T. He remembered many parties involving lots of hot girls and even hotter nights. They’d spent those formative years, as they liked to call it, “networking.”
Yeah, he thought, networking our way into girls’ beds, cars, dorm rooms, and parents’ holiday homes. Josh chuckled to himself. If you could think of a place, they’d been there and done that there.
Yep, Josh thought with a grin, it’s going to be good to meet up with my old friend.
He’d heard around town about Exquisite, which was Mason’s and Rachel’s restaurant, and after the TV piece, he was looking forward to checking it out for himself. After all, he couldn’t remember how many times Mason had told him that one day he’d be so famous all the women he wanted would be lining up around the block for him. Pretty-boy bastard probably achieved that goal, too.
Pulling up at the address Mason had given him, Josh parked his white Ford F-250 around the back in the tiny parking lot. Walking over to the back door, like he’d been told, he noticed a shiny red BMW convertible and rolled his eyes. It reminded him of a Barbie car. He chuckled. Should’ve parked the truck next to that just to piss off the owner. Stopping at the door, he knocked twice and waited.
Shelly and Lena made their way over to the table that’d been set for eight and took a seat. Lena had refilled her margarita, and she had to admit Lena’s Margarita was pretty damn delicious. As Lena took a seat, she beamed over at Shelly.
“Look, before everyone gets here, can I ask you something?” Lena asked quietly.
Shelly nodded and took a sip of her drink, noticing that Lena was keeping an eye on the kitchen doors. “Sure. Hit me with it.”
Lena licked her lips, and then blurted out, “Will you be my Maid of Honor?”
Shelly smiled so widely her face hurt. If you’d asked her not even a year ago if Dr. Magdalena O’Donnell would ever look so happy, she would’ve said that you were out of your mind. After the death of her sister, Lena had closed down, determined not to let anyone in—until Mason, that is.
However, as Lena smiled over at her with twinkling eyes, Shelly was hit with such joy at her friend’s happiness that she almost started to cry. Nodding quickly, she reached across the table and took Lena’s hand. Squeezing it gently, she answered softly.
“I’d love to be…” She paused. “But do I really need to be called Maid of Honor? It makes me sound so old and kind of stuffy.” Shelly grinned, wrinkling her nose.
Lena smiled as she sat back, lifting her glass to her lips. “Fine. I’ll call you that in secret meetings only.”