So what now? He wanted to spend some time with her. A date seemed too formal, especially since she might not want to be seen out with another man so soon after her engagement was called off. But this would be an interesting alternative if she had the time. “Okay, fine. You’re off the hook. Get out of here and go buy some barbed wire or a horse or something.”
Shane waved and disappeared down the hall. Deacon got up from his desk and went in search of Cecelia. He found her in the lobby directing the hanging of a large oil painting. It was a Western landscape, one of the few nods to Texas in her otherwise modern design.
“Perfect!” she declared after the level showed the frame was aligned just right.
“Well, thank you, I try,” Deacon said from over her shoulder.
Cecelia spun on her heel and turned to look at him. “Very funny. Can I help you with something, Mr. Chase?”
Even now, always business first. Thankfully, he truly had a business proposition for her, even if his motivation was less than pure. “Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow you for an hour to help me with something.”
“An hour? It’s almost lunchtime.”
“Which means...all your guys will be out in search of a taco truck and you will have nothing better to do than to join me for a private tasting at the new restaurant here in the hotel.”
She arched an eyebrow at him, but she didn’t say no. “Is the chef still working on the menu?”
“No, that’s already set for both restaurants. What Chef Eduardo has put together for today is the menu for the grand opening gala. It features some of the items that will be on the restaurant’s menu, but also some more finger-food-type selections that can be passed around by waiters. Shane was supposed to do this with me, but he’s gotten roped into a shopping excursion with Brandee. That just leaves me, and I’m afraid I don’t have the palate for this. I could use a second opinion.”
Cecelia’s gaze flicked over him for a moment, and then she nodded. She turned back to her crew. “Why don’t you guys go ahead and take lunch? We’ll finish up the rest of the paintings this afternoon.”
She didn’t have to tell them twice. The men immediately put down their tools and slipped out of the back of the hotel. Once they were gone, Cecelia turned back to Deacon with a smile. “Lead the way, Mr. Chase.”
Technically, it wasn’t a date, but Deacon felt inclined to offer her his arm and escort her down the hallway anyway. The Bellamy was designed with two dining options. The Silver Saddle was the more casual of the two, offering an upscale bar environment and featuring a selection of Spanish tapas in lieu of the typical appetizer selection. The other restaurant was the Glass House, a high-end farm-to-table restaurant, featuring all the freshest organic produce and responsibly sourced game available. The executive chef was even working on a rooftop garden where he intended to grow his own herbs and a selection of seasonable vegetables.
Normally, the Glass House would’ve been the appropriate venue for the grand opening, but Deacon had had other ideas. It wouldn’t take much to lure the residents of Royal to the Glass House. That was right up their snooty, rich alley. Spanish tapas were another matter. Deacon had suggested that the food for the event be catered by the Silver Saddle instead, so they could introduce the town to what he and Shane hoped would be the newest hot spot in Royal.
When they arrived at the bar they found the executive chef waiting for them. Eduardo welcomed them with a wide smile. “Mr. Chase, I hope that you and your guest are very hungry.”
“We are,” Deacon replied. He’d seen a mock-up of the menu and knew they were in for a treat. He didn’t actually expect to make many, if any, changes. Eduardo knew what he was doing. It was just good for him to know in advance what his guests had in store for them. “I can’t wait to see what you put together.”
Eduardo directed them to a corner booth. The decor of the bar was still a work in progress, but the majority of the key elements were in place. Along the edge of the room, the space was lined with burgundy leather booths and worn wooden tables. In the center was a rectangular bar that was accessible to guests on all sides. On the far side of the room from where they were seated, there was a stage for live music and a dance floor. Overhead, instead of a disco ball, Deacon had custom ordered a mirrored saddle, the bar’s namesake.
They had gone for a cowboy atmosphere with a modern edge, much like Cecelia’s room design, and Deacon was pretty sure they’d nailed it. In two months’ time, he had no doubt that this place would be hopping on a Saturday night.
He helped Cecelia into the booth and then sat opposite of her. Before they could place their napkins in their laps, Eduardo called the first waiter to the table with a tray of four different beverages. He set them down and disappeared back into the kitchen.
“First, I wanted to start with the beverage selection for the evening. Of course we will have an open bar that will provide whatever beverages the guests would like. However, we will be showcasing the Silver Saddle’s four featured drinks, as well.” He pointed to the two wineglasses. “Here are our two signature sangrias. The first is a traditional red wine sangria, and this here is a strawberry rosé sangria.
“Next is our take on an Arnold Palmer, but instead of sweet tea, we use sweet-tea-flavored vodka and a sprig of rosemary in the lemonade. Last is the Viva Bellamy, designed exclusively for the hotel, with aged rye whiskey, sweet vermouth, blood-orange liqueur and orange bitters. Please enjoy, and we’ll be out with the first round of tapas momentarily.” Eduardo turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
“I have to say the best part of my job might be that I get to drink without ending up in the HR office,” Deacon quipped with a grin as he picked up the old-fashioned glass containing the Viva Bellamy.
Cecelia opted for the rosé sangria. She took a sip and then smiled. “This is wonderful. It might be the best sangria I have ever had, actually. Try it.”
She held the wineglass up to his lips and tipped it until the sweet concoction flowed into his mouth. It was a lovely beverage, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. He was far more focused on Cecelia as she watched him. Perhaps Shane was smarter than Deacon gave him credit for. Feeding each other tapas could be quite the unexpectedly sensual experience for a weekday lunch at work.
Eduardo and the waiter returned a moment later with a selection of small plates. “Here we have stuffed piquillo peppers with goat cheese and seasonal mushrooms, seared scallops with English pea puree, chicken skewers with ajillo sauce, and black garlic and grilled lamb with rosemary sauce. Enjoy.”
“Wow,” Cecelia said. “This all looks amazing, and not at all what I was expecting from a place with a disco saddle hanging over the dance floor. I’d wager there’s no place like this within a hundred miles of here. People are going to trip over themselves to get to your restaurant, Deacon.”
He certainly hoped so. The array of food was both heavenly scented and visually impressive. He could just picture it being passed around on silver platters and arranged artfully along a buffet display. “Shall we?” he asked.
Cecelia nodded and looked around, considering where to start. “Do we share everything? I’ve never done tapas before, but this kind of reminds me of dim sum.”
“Yes, it’s similar. Tapas means small plates, so it’s just tiny selections of many different, shareable dishes instead of large entrée. Just try whatever you like.”
She started by reaching out and pulling a chicken skewer onto one of the empty plates they’d each been given to make the tasting easier. Deacon opted for the lamb.
Cecelia closed her eyes and made a moaning sound of pure pleasure that Deacon recognized from their night together. His body stirred at the memory of that sound echoing in his bedroom.