A flirty bartender entraps two men, an average guy and a billionaire. She's sought after by both men, who desire her. Madison Hart is outspoken, determined, and set on marriage. Madison is rushed into a new world of lust, temptation, pain, emotion...
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The country club is rented out by a wedding party on Saturday night. Since teens and little kids outnumber adults, I barely mix any beverages other than fruit punch and lemonade. I scan the main table where punch bowls are half empty and decide to ready two new ones. As I use a hose attached to a barrel to fill up the new bowls, I find my sight on the bride and groom at the main table.
The bride is radiant...and is so enthusiastically pleased. This night is the highlight of her life...it's her dream. Her fairytale. I bet she counted down the days to be spiritually bonded with her mate. The newlyweds kiss passionately and stare deeply into each other's eyes. It's as if the room doesn't exist. It's as if the only thing that does is each other.
Eternal desire is the phrase I use to describe this moment that every bride and groom shares. I've seen over a hundred ceremonies hosted here, and every time, there's this unbreakable gaze. This bubble of bliss around the lovers. And every time, I grow restless and hopeless that I'll never have this magical experience.
I glance away woefully and hoist a bowl of lemonade up to the counter, then start another for the fruit punch.
Lily snatches up the bowl and swaps it out with the empty one. When she comes back, she sets it down and surveys me. My face is long, and my eyes are glossy. She steers around the bar and hugs me from behind. "It'll be over in 30 minutes; hang in there." My lip quivers as I fill the next bowl. Lily rubs my shoulders before letting go. She takes the bowl from me and caresses my chin.
I give a half smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "I know," I murmur forlornly.
"Aww." Lil sulks. "I can sneak in your phone, so Brad can cheer you up. How about that?"
"Okay." I sniffle.
"I'll be back." Lily determinedly marches off to the punch table, places the bowl down, then treks out of the double doors.
I blink hastily and wipe the corner of my eyes. Talking to Brad will help...I just need to think about that, not the pit swelling in my gut. I wipe off the counter, place the hoses atop the barrels, and switch off the buttons.
I just need to keep my attention away from the main table. I don't feel like crying later tonight. I'll have to fix my emotions before I go home. This night will be gone soon. I just have to tough it out.
I organize the glass case behind the bar scattered with wines, liquors, alcohol, and liquified fruit and herbs. My hands line them up in a neat row. The ceremony's pop music bumps the walls. The celebrating drones on for what seems like forever. I count down the minutes left once I get to the middle of the glass case.
Great, 20 minutes to go. Ugh! I go on organizing and endure the happiness within the room with an opposing demeanor. Why am I fed up with the joy? Strange. I need to relax.
I hear knocking from the bar behind me, so I close the case and go to my post. I'm perplexed when I see the person's face. Jace Harrison sets a glass of alcohol on the bar and slides it towards me. "Taste this."
