"You don't like weddings, do you?" he says while he takes my outstretched hand. His grip is both determined and gentle.
"What gives you that impression?" I shake his hand a little longer than necessary.
"You are not the only one observing people from your little hideout." He raises a suggestive eyebrow.
"You've been spying on me?"
"Not spying, just observing. There's a subtle difference."
"Right." I nod in agreement. I can't blame him for looking, can I? And it's not like I'm trying very hard to hide my distaste for weddings.
"And what about you? Do you like weddings?"
"Yes and no."
"You really like being vague, don't you?" I pull back my hand and pick up my margarita.
"It's a business habit." Haze straightens his cuffs.
"So, what's your business?" I feel emboldened by the glass in my hand.
"I'm the owner of Underworld Delicacies." He makes a small gesture with his hand towards the buffet tables beside me.
"Oh, you're the caterer," I blurt out and scold myself for being so blunt when I see a hint of indignation flash across his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean... I mean..."
"No, that's quite all right. I am the caterer and I pride myself in being the best you can find."
"Not very modest, are you?" I suddenly feel more daring than what I really am.
Haze cocks an eyebrow. "It's simple. I like to make people happy, and I'm good at what I do."
I cannot deny that he's right. Every single piece I've tried tonight has been delicious.
"Is that your company's motto, making people happy with food?" I draw an imaginary sign in the air with my fingers.
"No, it isn't, but now that you mention it, I probably should keep it in mind for a future PR campaign. Are you sure you don't want to work for me?" The mischievous glint in his eyes makes me smile.
I take the last sip of my margarita. "No, thanks. I have a job already and if I ever do something different, it would be opening my own flower shop. But that's just a dream for now, not anything that's going to happen in the near future." I play with the empty glass in my hands, watching as the light bounces off in tiny sparkles. It's probably for the best to accept that this isn't ever going to happen.
"You just need some start-up capital and the necessary determination to go through with it."
I sigh and place the glass on the table beside me. "You make it sound so easy. I don't have the money and in terms of the determination, I'll probably get discouraged the moment things get tough. Establishing a business isn't as easy as you make it look."
He taps his fingers on his knees to the beat of the music, some obscure funky song I'm sure my mother must have bribed the band to play.
"It's not easy, but it's not impossible either. I'm sure your mother would be willing to help you out."
I snort and wave my hand dismissively. "I'm sure as hell not asking Mum for money. I've never done that, and I'm not going to start now. I rather keep working in that flower shop until I'm old and shrivelled like a dried prune."
Haze is holding back a grin and when I break into a giggle, he releases it and the deep rumbling laughter that follows sounds like the most melodious song to my ears.
"I don't think you'll ever look like a dried prune," he says when he has recovered from laughing. He gives me a look that sends a flutter through my stomach. "You'll be beautiful even in old age."
Before it turns into a hiccup, I swallow my last giggle. "I think I might be changing my opinion about weddings."
"Sounds promising." He looks at my empty glass. "How about I get us another drink, and then we talk some more? Maybe not about dried prunes, but you can tell me everything you know about flowers."
I nod in agreement, a smile plastered to my face.
He stands up and straightens his suit. The way he carries himself radiates self-assuredness, but there's not a trace of arrogance in his behaviour. And I can't help but notice again how tall he is. I'm sure that even with my high heels on, he still towers over me. Not that I'm complaining. He's perfectly proportioned, too, from what I can glean through his suit.
"Penny," I hear him say.
"Yes?" I blink and look up at him.
"I asked you what you want me to bring you." His lips are twitching in amusement.
Damn! Whatever happened to my resolution not to ogle good-looking guys? Apparently this wedding is making me throw all my usual standards overboard. But, then why shouldn't I? I'm having fun for once, and I don't see any harm in that. That's what weddings are for, after all, right?
"I'll take a mojito." I'm probably blushing like a tomato.
"I'll make it two then." He heads towards the bar, where Dave is having a drink on his own.
I completely lose track of time as we are immersed in conversations about flowers, food, music, and even Greek myths. Haze speaks with such a passion about those stories, it makes me almost think he has lived through them himself. After the third mojito, myths and reality begin to blend, and it becomes hard to pick apart truth and imagination.
"So, are you dating someone?" He looks at me over the rim of his glass.
I shake my head. "No, I did in the past, but found out it wasn't worth the effort."
We finally get to the point where I usually keep everyone out, my personal love life, but I find that I don't really want to pull up the walls I usually erect around my heart. I don't think I've ever shared so many secrets about myself with someone I've only known for a few hours.
"What about you? Any girlfriend?"
"No, not right now. Most girls are just interested in the money. They don't care about the person behind the facade."
I wonder if he has allowed me a peek behind the facade, shown me a glimpse of the real Haze.
By the time we arrive at the fourth mojito — or is it the fifth? — I'm slumped against the backrest and stare at the practically deserted dance floor. The band is still playing, but their songs have long blurred into one endless out-of-tune medley. I can't really tell where the buzzing in my ear is coming from and why tiny dots are flickering in my vision. My tongue feels like lead and I really need to go and pee, but I'm afraid that my wobbly legs won't make the trip to the bathroom a graceful one.
Haze beside me seems to be holding himself up much better. He's leaning forward with both arms casually resting on his thighs, the glass in his hands. He swirls the contents inside, the ice clinking softly with the motion.
"Can I ask you something?" he says.
I want to wrap myself in that voice. "Sure." My eyes are half-closed while I suck on a piece of crushed ice from my drink.
"What if I'd offer you money, so you could open your own flower shop?"
"What?" I try to clear my head from the alcohol-induced fog. "W-why would you do that?"
"Because I have enough money and I want to help you."
My heart is galloping like a bunch of wild horses, the blood pounding through my head. I could have my very own flower shop. Be my own boss. I stare wide-eyed at Haze beside me. Plant babies, delicious coffee, home decor. Oh god, yes, and cute little fairy lights! A myriad of blurry, colourful images zip through my head like ecstatic confetti. I could do all the things I've ever dreamed of, except —
Then it hits me. I can't.
"But I—I don't have anything to offer in return."
"I don't need anything in return."
"No, I'm sorry. I can't accept that." I shake my head and instantly regret it. The entire room is spinning, and I'm afraid that I'll tumble from the chaise longue if I make another sudden move.
"Yes, you can. It's a gift."
"I can't accept a gift from a stranger." My mind isn't quite cooperating, so I search for any stupid reason I can find. "We don't even know each other."
His eyes find mine and I can see the disappointment in them, even with my blurry eyesight and all. An iron vice clamps around my heart when his lips tighten, and he looks away.
"I didn't mean it that way. I—I meant that we've just met tonight and..." I stutter, willing my brain to work. "But if I get to know you better, then you're not a stranger anymore, right?" I try to contain the damage, and the hopefulness returning to his eyes spurs me on. "What if I offer you a week of my company, and then, by the end of the week, when we're not strangers anymore, I can accept your gift, because well, because you know...we're not really strangers anymore." My words are all slurred together. What am I even suggesting? I'm probably not making any sense.
Haze straightens himself beside me. "Your company?" he repeats, "you mean like as in—"
"Yes, I mean like dating, like going out, a relationship." I wave my hands around in a vague gesture when I look at the last couple left on the dance floor, their bodies wrapped in each other's embrace. I don't know who they are, but if they can do it, I can do it too. It can't be that difficult. And it's just for a week.
My tongue seems to have taken on a life of its own. I swear my brain is off somewhere on a holiday.
"Are you sure about this?" He places his empty glass on the floor and turns towards me, his brows furrowed.
"Yes." I nod slowly to avoid getting dizzy again. I really don't want to throw up on this expensive piece of furniture. "Deal?" I say and hold out my hand to him before my courage deserts me.
Haze brings his hand towards mine and when he takes it, the warmth of his body seeps into mine.
"Deal, but I want you to know that I will not ask anything of you that you are not willing to give."
What did I just agree to? Nothing makes sense anymore.
"Right, sounds good." I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm floating on a cloud that's going to carry me towards my very own flower shop. I will be independent and happy. And I really need to go to that bathroom now.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, and we'll go to my country estate for the week. I need to take care of some business. Might as well combine it with pleasure." He adjusts the lapel of his jacket before he looks at me again. "It's a lovely place. I'm sure you'll like it."
"Wait, but I can't leave Bessie hanging for a week." I suddenly remember that I still have a job. "It's only me and her and Chloe at the shop."
"I can arrange for one of my employees to substitute for you while you're away. I know Bessie from a gig a few years back, a vernissage at an art gallery. I'm sure she'll be fine with that. How does that sound?"
"Sounds perfect," I say and for the first time in hours, I feel sleepiness catching up with me. I look around, and the looted buffet probably means it's way beyond my usual bedtime. My mum and Richard are nowhere to be seen, and neither are Lucy and Dave. "Uh, I should go and get some sleep."
"You want me to call a taxi for you?" Haze holds on to my arm; my legs are so wobbly I can barely stand up.
"Yes, that would be great," I say while I search for my shoes. I'll figure out everything else tomorrow.
While Haze is on the phone, I manage a quick trip to the bathroom, shoes still in hand. Putting them on is too much of a hassle.
He walks me towards the taxi and kisses my hands before we part. "I look forward to getting to know you, Penny."
"So do I, Haze." His touch sets my skin on fire. I slip into the taxi before I do something else stupid, and then the night swallows both the taxi and me.