Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)
My dreams are happening. They’re coming true. The community of friends and family and regulars I’ve always pictured in my head is finally coming together.
The feeling of satisfaction that overwhelms me, of pride, is even sweeter than I imagined it would be.
I love this. Love it. I’m one lucky bitch to say this is my job. To call this place home.
My heart pops around my chest when I think about our grand re-opening that’s happening in a couple weeks. It’s going to be amazing—sexy with a side of service, as I’m hosting a big raffle at the event to benefit a women’s shelter downtown.
Eli is catering, of course, and we’re bringing in some mixologists to man a bar that’s big even by Charleston’s standards. I invited two hundred people, thinking half would attend.
But somehow the guest list has swelled to two hundred and twenty. Thank goodness we’ve got the patio that runs along the side of our new space to handle the overflow.
“It’s fabulous, right?”
I turn at the sound of the voice. Julia is standing at my elbow, beaming.
“Julia,” I say, looping my arm through hers, “it’s perfection. I am so excited. So excited. You totally knocked it out of the park. I’m still shocked you only do this part time.”
Julia only does design projects on the side. By day, she’s a professor of twentieth century fiction at the College of Charleston. By night, she dabbles in antiques and fabric samples. She’s been instrumental in creating the sophisticated, cosmopolitan-but-casual vibe Holy City Roasters is known for.
She’s also become a really good friend over the course of the renovation. Funny enough, she’s also my brother’s neighbor, and Olivia’s friend from grad school. Small world.
“I just can’t quit Virginia Woolf. I love her too damn much. But thank you. That means a lot.” She looks at my face. Smile falls a little. “You look tired. Stressed about the opening?”
I shrug. “Honestly? I feel great about the opening. We’ve got everything lined up and ready to go. Plenty of staff. All the right people helping out, you included. I’m ready to die with excitement about showing this place off.”
“People are gonna go apeshit.”
“That’s the hope.” I take a sip of coffee. Let out a sigh. “But I guess I’m still bumming about some personal stuff that isn’t working out how I thought it would. I’m grateful that Olivia has a new book out. Max the Duke is the only thing getting me through this week.”
“Ah, yes. The wonders of a well hung hero.” Julia smiles, a small, wistful thing. “I broke my vibrator reading that book. Literally killed the thing. And then I had my lit class read a ten page section—you know, the part where Jane and Max discuss sex positivity?—because it was so thought provoking and well done.”
“So you gave My Deal With the Duke five stars, then,” I say, smiling back.
“Oh yeah. Five shooting stars. Or would it be exploding stars? Orgasmic ones, maybe?”
A pair of plumbers draw up short beside us, staring.
Without missing a beat, Julia stares right back.
“Romance,” she says. “Read it.”
Then she grabs my arm and leads me out a side door to the patio. It’s empty, save for a couple dozen iron bistro chairs that arrived yesterday. Passing Julia my coffee, I grab two and drag them into the shade beside the door. It may be eight A.M., but it’s already hot and humid as hell.
“Perverts. Gotta love ’em,” Julia murmurs, handing me back my coffee before taking a seat. “So tell me more about why Max the Duke is speaking to you right now.”
I drop into the chair beside hers and cross my legs.
“He speaks to me on a lot of levels. But what I love most about him is how he adores Jane unconditionally. I feel like Jane doesn’t have to sacrifice anything to be with him, you know? He really encourages her to speak what’s on her mind and just be herself. She doesn’t have to try to get him to want her. He just does. And she doesn’t have to give up or hide who she is to make their relationship work. In real life…maybe you do?”
Julia furrows her brow. “You really think you need to sacrifice who you are to be with someone?”
“No.” I tug a hand through my hair. “Yes. I don’t know. I haven’t really found a guy who wants me for who I am. Even though I try really hard to be the person they want.”
“You’re trying too hard to package yourself for those guys,” she replies, real concern in her eyes. “Stop that. Right now. You’re too damn smart for that shit.”
I scoff, even as her frank assessment sends an arrow through my chest. “I know, I know. I’ll try.”
“And I don’t want to spoil the ending of My Deal With the Duke. But Jane doesn’t have to give up her identity—her true self—to be with Max. You shouldn’t have to give that up, either. No one should. She does, however, have to sacrifice and compromise to make their relationship work. So does he. Remember how different they are—how they both struggle to feel like they belong in each other’s worlds.”