Candlemoth: A Holy City Romance (3 page)

Then the kitchen door flapped open again as someone came out with yet another tray of drinks. 

I heard Chef shout at me from the kitchen.  “Hey beautiful dreamer, get your cute butt in here!”

My gaze ripped from the guy like a needle torn off a record player and I ducked inside hurriedly. 

Chef was giving me a weird grin over his shoulder, his hands dancing from plate to plate like a magician.  Even if he was an asshole, it was hypnotizing to watch him work.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I began.

Chef turned, wiping his hands on a rag, wordlessly leaving the sous chefs to step in and finish what he was working on.  Chef’s kitchen ran like German clockwork. 

Except for me and Hazel.  We were the faulty machinery.

“It’s okay,” Chef said, stunning me.  Sweat was beginning to darken his whites, and beads of it stood out on his skin, which was flushed from the heat of his work.  But he was smiling.  Sort of.

“I- wait, really?”

“Yeah.  Come on, keep me company, I need a smoke break.”  Chef gestured for me to follow him as he strode across the buzzing hive of activity that was his kitchen. I followed him out the opposite exit, which gave onto a dark, quiet alley behind the house. 

Across from us was an old colonial era wall made from gently rounded stones.  You could see the tops of magnolia trees and crepe myrtles bobbing over the side of it gently.  On either end of the long, narrow alley, distant gas lanterns threw light onto the cobblestones like melting butter.

Just then, the trumpet player broke into a gorgeous solo, his notes seeming to hang in the air like panes of quivering glass before they broke, shivering down all around us. 

It was erotic to think that right now, standing on the lawn, the sexy guy whose name I didn’t know was hearing the exact same thing.

Was he thinking of me too?

I was swirling with feelings I couldn’t quite name.  Everything was so beautiful, it didn’t seem real. 

Then Chef’s nasal voice broke into my thoughts, and I realized I hadn’t been listening to him at all.  “...know you’re new here...can’t happen again… have to pay more attention, blah blah blah.”

“Yes sir, I will, I promise.”

Then he fell quiet, and the smell of his cigarette hung between us like stale toast.  By the way he looked around, I could tell he was experiencing the beauty of the evening, too.  I wondered why he hadn’t yelled at me the way he’d yelled at Hazel.  What I’d done was definitely way worse, but what can I say?  There was something magic about the Calhoun’s mansion, maybe, or maybe about that night in particular.  Everybody seemed so happy.  It was infectious.

“This is all pretty special, isn’t it?” I said, leaning back against the cool wall.

“What do you mean?” Chef said.  He dropped the butt of his smoke and crushed it under his black Dansko heel. 

“I mean this- getting to be a part of the most important night in people’s lives.  Making everything perfect for them.  It’s really special,” I said, feeling embarrassed, bouncing a little. 

He smiled at me as he bent to pick up his butt, not wanting to leave trash even in the alley, and that tiny gesture actually made me like him.  I smiled back.

“Better get back to it,” he said, holding open the door to me.  “And Lily?”

“Yes sir?”

Chef pointed at both his eyes, then mine.  “Head in the game, kiddo,” he said.

Dinner service went without a hitch.  We even buddied up with a few of the guests.  Beren, flirting outrageously with both men and women, soon had a cluster of guests laughing uproariously, insisting on taking shots with him.

“Well, I do aim to please.  Don’t mind if I do!” he said.  “Lily, get over here and meet these fine people!  This is Cindy, and this is Mr. Joe….”

There was a pause while the shots were poured.  Beren took advantage of the hubbub around us to whisper in my ear.  “You know, not so long ago, this wouldn’t have happened.  I mean, before the shootings here? Some of these guys would be saying, “Boy this,” and “Boy that.”

I didn’t know what to say to my sweet friend.  After a beat, I just put my arm around his waist and my head on his shoulder.  Beren snuggled me back. 

“It’s okay.  It’s just... nice, you know?”  Beren said, smiling lightly at nothing.  I noticed shadows behind his eyes I’d never seen before.  A haunted past, a difficult childhood of his own.   

“Yeah, it is,” I said. 

On the other side of the lawn, Hazel was having an intense conversation with a cute, owlish older guy who was rocking the bowtie and spectacles look.  And whenever I took a tray of used plates and glasses into the kitchen, I found Chef and his minions getting sweatier and louder, already celebrating their evening’s success. 

“We nailed it!” Vanessa shouted.  “Madison
Calhoun
just told me we’re the best caterers she’s
ever had!” 
She was beaming from ear to ear, practically glowing.  Chef high-fived her.

“Hey, great work out there, Lily,” Vanessa said.  “I’ve been getting lots of compliments about you.”

“Oh really?”  Chef said, winking.  “How many of them were X rated?”  He wagged a finger at me.  “There’s something about this one… I’m keeping an eye on you!”

Flushing, I zipped back outside.

The sound of jazz cymbals sizzled up my bones as I stepped back out into the warm, sultry night air.  People were dancing cheek to cheek in the neatly clipped grass.  A few couples had paired off under the trees, strolling around, kissing, whispering to each other. 

Hazel came over to me, grinning.  She nodded towards the tables in the first row casually.

“That dude’s been staring at you all night,” she said.

“Really?” I said, pretending not to have noticed. 

I couldn’t keep from grinning, though.  I knew exactly who she was talking about.  He hadn’t been in my section, but I’d been aware of his gaze all night.  I could actually feel him looking at me, like a butterfly tickling my neck.  But I was afraid to turn around and glance back, in case I was wrong.

“Oh yeah,” she said.  And then Hazel waved at him!

I grabbed her hand, laughing, pinning it down to her side.  “What are you doing?!”

“What?” Hazel said, innocently.  “He likes you, you like him, so…”

“I…”

“Oh, hello,” she said, as if someone were behind me, crinkling her eyes up merrily.

“Har-har, Hazel!”

“Yep, well, I just remembered I have to… do something,” Hazel said, dashing off, and I turned around, blowing a stray wisp of hair out of my face.

And there he was, grinning at me.

“Oh! It’s… you,” I said, lamely.  “Um, do you need something?”

His smile broadened.  “Like what?”

“Uh, hey, you changed your shirt.”  Now he was wearing an ivory colored button-up that made him look even sexier.  Amazing to me that was even possible.  So apparently I could no longer carry on a normal conversation. 

He glanced down at it, as if remembering.  “Yeah.  Would it make you smile to know I found a little barb of glass in me, too?  Who knows, maybe it was from the same cup.”

“Who says things like that?” I said.  But to be honest, I liked that he was a little weird. 

He shrugged, grinning helplessly.  “Just a guy who wishes you hadn’t run out so quickly.  That’s all.”

“Just a guy, huh?”

“What’s your name?” he said, intently.  As if my name were the key to something he desperately needed to unlock.

“Lily,” I said.  “Lily Inoue.”

“I’m Ry,” he said.  The music grew louder, more insistent, and he began to groove with it.    “Dance with me, Lily.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Everybody dances.”  Ry took my hand and placed it on his shoulder, fitting me close to him, and then put his hands on my waist.  His hands were hot and dry, so big they almost completely fit around me.  Wanting bolted through me again, so that when I looked up at him, I knew my eyes were hot with lust.

His were, too. 

Someone stumbled behind us and I knocked into him-

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Beren dance away.  He’d bonked us into each other on purpose! 

I made a mental note to bake both Beren and Hazel each an enormous cheesecake tomorrow, which would only be fitting in honor of all their hard work.  Cheeseballs.  I adored them. 

“You have the cutest grin,” Ry said, tipping my chin up towards his.  “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“I really can’t be doing this, I’m supposed to be working...” I said.  I forced myself to try to twist away from him.  The last thing I wanted was to actually make Chef really mad, but Ry’s fingers only tightened. 

His thumbs pressed deliciously into the front of my hips.  I wasn’t going anywhere.

I almost swooned at the sensation.  “Oh…”

“Wow,” Ry said, his eyes flicking over my face, my open mouth. 

He pulled me so close our legs almost tangled together, and he bent down and pressed the side of his face briefly to mine, tenderly.  We weren’t really dancing any more, just pressing together like that, there in the dark.  I ran my hands down his shoulder, tracing slowly over his biceps, the ridges of warm, dense muscle.  I felt the shape of him turn hard against my womb, and shivers went through me like falling stars.

“Lily…” Ry said, huskily.

“That’s an interesting dance,” an angry, high-pitched voice suddenly observed behind us. 

Ry tore his gaze from mine slowly.  “Uhhhh, hey Madison,” he said. 

I turned and saw the girl who’d knocked the vodka-sodas off my tray in the first place.  She was glaring at Ry like a furious soccer mom. 

“I
don’t
think that’s what the help is here for, baby,” Madison said. Her fists were on her hips, and she was craned forward, like an angry hen.  But she was beautiful.  Her blonde hair was sculpted into an updo as cold and perfect as an ice-cream cone.  The clean lilac gown she wore now clung to her curves like a path on a mountain road.

Humiliated, I swatted Ry’s hands off me, stepping back.

“Jesus, Maddie, don’t be rude.  This is Lily,” Ry said, all in a rush.  “Lily, meet Maddie, Maddie, meet Lily-”

But I could handle myself.  “Bite me, girl,” I said, turning on my heel.  As I stalked away, I heard a stunned pause, and then they began to squabble under the tree. 

              People started ringing their glasses, calling for a toast.  Someone’s drunk uncle surged towards the mike.  “And now, ish that moment you’ve allll been waiting for,” he said, staggering a little, hanging onto the mike like a buoy. 

              “Encore, encore!” somebody in back yelled.

              Somebody else hissed him down.  “Not yet, dude, he hasn’t even started yet.”

              “This is tha’ big moment,” the uncle continued, flopping one hand up into the air theatrically.  “The hour of hours… the bouquet toss!”  He dropped his arm like the girl with the flags at a race, but nothing happened.  He gave a sticky glance to the band, and then did it again. 

“The bouquet toss!” he said again.

              This time, the band lurched in on cue, as people cajoled the bride to step up in front of the crowd. 

The bride had a sweet, slightly rounded face and the same deep tan as Ry.  “Whoooo’s it gonna be, boys?” the drunk uncle said, as she took her place. 

              The bride posed with a sweet, shy reluctance in front of the crowd, clutching her simple white bouquet.

              “Drumroll, please!”

              “Thanks, Sam,” she giggled, as the drums came in.  Another uncle gently prised the mike from the drunk guy’s hand and then helped him back to his chair.  

“Ready girls?” she said, in a clear voice. 

              I saw the girl named Madison step out firmly in front.  The others all cleared back, smiling.

But Sam, the drunk uncle, was just winding up.  From his seat at a table up front, he began to shout again.  “Look at her, Miss America…” he sang.  And then- “Ry-boy, you’re crazy.  Look at this woman!”

              Madison did a pleased little shimmy.  “It’s my mother-in-love’s dress,” she cooed at him.  “I’m so glad it fit, she’s got the most
amazing
body!”

              The bride shook her head good-naturedly and got ready to toss the bouquet.

“And couuld it be, willll it be, everybody’s favorite on again, off again couple?” the drunk uncle said. 

The flowers soared into the air- and landed squarely in Madison’s hands.  Madison held it up like a winning ticket, shrieking with happiness, while the bride laughed merrily, waving her graceful hand at Ry.  “You’re next, brother!” she said.

My heart shot into my throat like a cornered hummingbird.  I swallowed hard.

He was a
Calhoun
.  Suddenly it all made sense. 
Ryland Calhoun.