I’m in love with him.
Holy shit.
Charly’s speaking, but I can’t understand the words through the rushing in my ears. Finally, I sign the receipt—I don’t even give one shit how much it all cost—and make a beeline for outside, dragging deep breaths of fresh air into my lungs.
Does everyone hyperventilate when they discover they’re in love? Probably not.
“What happened in there?” Declan asks as he takes the bag of shoes from me and places it in the back of his Jeep, then waits for me to get buckled in before pulling out into traffic.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I’ve never been a great liar.
“You looked like you saw a ghost, and when Charly asked you if you wanted to keep the boxes, you just smiled and said, good for you.”
“Oops,” I murmur and stare out the passenger window.
“So what happened?”
“Must have been something I ate,” I say and smile brightly. “I feel better now.”
We stop at a red light and he sends me a look that screams not buying it, but he doesn’t press me. And I’m glad because what am I supposed to say?
Sorry, but I just realized when you had your sexy hand on my leg and winked at me that I’m completely in love with you and it gave me heart palpitations and I might have had a stroke?
Probably not a great thing to say.
“I have to get ready for my gig tonight, so I’m gonna drop you at Adam’s. Is that okay?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll walk you to your car at closing,” he says.
“Great.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Great.”
He stops at the curb and before he can jump out to walk me in, I grab the shoes out of the back and wave, then rush inside to have my panic attack the way any self-respecting woman would: by myself.
***
“Phone for you,” Adam says later that day as he pulls the cordless from his ear and holds it out to me. We’re both bustling behind the bar, him pouring drinks for a party of twelve that just walked in, and me trying to restock the beer before the evening crowd hits.
“This is Callie,” I say and squat in front of the beer cooler, mentally counting bottles.
“Callie, this is Ray Michaels. I’m a producer at the Travel Channel.”
I pause and frown at the Bud Light. “Okay.”
“My associate was in New Orleans a couple of weeks ago and had the privilege of being in The Odyssey on a Friday night. He was so impressed with the renovations on the place that we would like to feature your bar on our travel show, Ins and Outs. Have you seen the show?”
My mouth is gaping open by now, and my legs are falling asleep from being in the squat position for way too long, but I can’t move. All I can do is nod.
“Callie?”
“Sorry. Yes, I’ve seen the show.”
“Great. So the host travels around the country, and in a twelve-minute segment, features a different hot spot in the city they’re visiting that week.”
“And you want The Odyssey to be one of those hot spots.”
“We do,” he says. “I can email you with more information, and the legal formalities, but I wanted to touch base personally first to see if this is something you’re interested in.”
“O-of course I’m interested,” I stutter and stand, then curse a million times in my head as the blood rushes back into my lower extremities. “I’d love to see the paperwork.”
“Great. We’d like to film the week after next.”
“That fast?” I ask and glance over to see Adam staring at me, unabashedly eavesdropping. I just shrug and put one finger up to say, just a minute.
“It’s a last-minute addition because one of the other locations fell through. We’re very excited to work with you.”
“Thank you.” I give him my email address, then hang up and simply stare at the top of the bar.
“Who was that?” Adam asks.
“A guy named Ray from the Travel Channel. They want to film in here and spotlight us on Ins and Outs.”
“I love that show,” he says with a grin.
“This is crazy.” My hands are shaking.
“No, it’s awesome. You worked hard and it’s paying off. This will be excellent for business.”
“We worked hard,” I say absently and then smile and jump up and down. “The Travel Channel!”
“Okay, maybe it’s a little crazy,” he says with a laugh.
“It’s a little crazy that I’ll take,” I reply and pour us each a shot. “Cheers!”
Chapter Eleven
~Declan~
She fucking blows me away. I’m sitting in The Odyssey two weeks later, watching as she sits for her interview with the Travel Channel crew. She’s already given them a tour of the roof, and now she’s giving them the history of the place. This is the part that I know is hardest for her, but you’d never know it. She’s cool as a cucumber in her black skirt and white button-down, and she’s wearing the grey heels I picked out for her. The blond hair that I can’t seem to stop touching is piled on top of her head in a lazy knot and her lips are red.
She’s pulled off the classy rocker-chick effortlessly. I know she was probably just going for classy, but she always has that edge to her, no matter what she wears.
And I fucking love it.
She’s speaking of her father without blinking an eye, but she does fist her hand once, which tells me that she’s not happy with this line of questions.