Here’s a little look at what I wrote today on the first book in my forthcoming THE GALA GIRLS trilogy. I’m so in love with Esme and Nate, and can’t wait for you to really meet them.
When the cafe door banged open while Nate was in the middle of rinsing out the blender after making a frappe, he heard it. Glancing over his shoulder, his mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Hey,” Esme said, waving apologetically from the other side of the bar. “Sorry about disappearing.”
He turned off the sink, leaving the blender carafe in the basin, and dried his hands, turning to her. “No worries. I’m sorry I haven’t called you since we went out.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t either,” she pointed out. “And anyway, that’s kind of what I’m here about.”
He leaned against the bar, raising his brows. “Oh yeah?”
“Go out with me? There’s a movie playing at the independent theater and —“
“Yes.” He smiled, arching a brow.
She faltered. “But — I didn’t — you don’t even know what I was going to ask you to do.”
“I don’t care. If you’ll be there, I’ll be there.”
A pink flush crept up her neck. “Oh. Well, then, excellent. “How’s Wednesday night?”
“Any night is perfect. Every night.” His voice was dead serious, making her eyes widen.
But when her gaze met his, something in her eyes was steely and hot. “Tonight then. I’ll pick you up. Just before seven.”
He leaned in closer. “I’ll be ready.”
The flush reached her cheeks, and she bit back a playful smile. “I can’t wait.”
Then she turned on her heal and sashayed from the shop, his eyes following her hips.
“That,” Henry said, walking behind Nate bear a basket of dirty rags he was taking to the back to launder, “went much, much better.”
Nate couldn’t stop a beaming smile from splashing across his face. Suddenly the news about Bradford couldn’t hold a candle to the flowery scent of Esme still hanging in the cafe.