Pepper Jack's

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A typical Saturday evening would consist of a long night working at The Donut Hole.  But considering one of my closest friends, Jacob Donnelly, who'd been living on the other side of the globe for over a year was back in town visiting for his birthday, I made sure Steve had plenty of help before asking for the night off. 

"You work too hard, kiddo," he had said when I made sure he was fine with it.  "Sometimes I think you're trying to take over from me.  Go be young, get yourself a boyfriend and break a few hearts while you're at it."

"I'm thirty-two, that's hardly young, Steve," I had smirked, raising my brows. 

Gayle interjected, "Sweetie, when I was thirty-two I had three kids under the age of 8.  Please, go be young and enjoy the hell out of it for me!"

The party was being held at Pepper Jack's Bar and Grill, a two-story restaurant with one of the best bars in town.  A reservation was nearly impossible to get, needing to be made almost a month in advance.  How Jacob was able to get the entire restaurant to himself for the night was beyond me.  The financing bizz must be treating him well.

I climbed out of my Uber, thanking the driver, and smoothed down the skirt of my dress.  It hugged me nicely in the waist then flared out until just above my knees, the dark emerald color a stark contrast to my pale skin and dark hair.  I don't usually like to wear heels, but I made an exception for Jacob and wore a pair of glittery silver pumps. I knew he'd approve.

Double checking the bandaids on my heels were not too obvious, I strolled carefully past the valet.  The doorman stood before a sleek mirrored podium and glanced up at me quizzically. 

"Evening ma'am.  Name please?"

"Maggie Wynn," I smiled, adjusting the small but beautifully wrapped gift in my arms, trying not to drop my silver clutch.

He scrolled down the list before lifting the page and scrolling down a second list.

Sheesh.  Jacob had invited all of LA it seemed.

"Ah, here we are, Maggie Wynn."  He stepped away and I followed him to the door, where he held it open for me.

Nodding courteously, I slipped past him and made my way in.

Pepper Jack's was known for their atmosphere almost as much as their gourmet burgers.  It was as if TGI Friday's merged with a hoity toity Italian restaurant.  One owned by a multi-billionaire.  The most random things were nailed up on the wall; a kayak, a red tricycle, an assortment of piggy banks, and there was even a wall of wigs.

I immediately saw a few people I knew and joined into an easy conversation with them, catching up on their lives.  Some have had kids since I'd last seen them.  Some booked small roles in television series that were canceled shortly after their premiere.  And some were nannies, making ends meet between auditions.

LA living wasn't for everyone.

I had never been to Pepper Jack's before and I was trying my hardest to pay attention to the conversation of everyone while taking in the setting of the absurd yet popular restaurant.  The far back wall before the restaurant split into the bathrooms and kitchen was lined with vintage jukeboxes, only the one in the center of them all actually working.  Speakers all around the establishment amplified the music to every corner. 

Dolly Parton was crooning when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders, squeezing me hard.  My gift and clutch were slipping but someone took them before they could fall.  I laughed, hanging onto the forearms under my chin as Jacob kissed the back of my head.

"You slut, I'm so happy you're here!" He screeched, turning me around by the shoulders.

Jacob's look was the epitome of a rich frat boy.  He never grew out of the trust-fund-kid look, his hair slicked back nicely and his face smoothly shaved.  His aftershave was overpowering, but it smelled nice.  He was wearing a very expensive looking pair of jeans with a pink blazer jacket.

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