Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
The lighting is low, but the ambiance is high. The furniture is all carefully selected to look appropriately from the twenties, and all the barstools but two are taken. I’m impressed that they manage to pull this many people into a location that’s not obvious, but apparently, I’m one of the only people in New York who hasn’t gotten with the secret.
“This place is amazing,” I say, already envisioning half a dozen different events I could utilize the space for. “Do you know if they do private events?”
Jude laughs, turning to me and stopping so abruptly that I actually run into his side. It’s awkward, but his smile is enough to disarm me from completely crumbling. “I’m sorry, but are you working or dating right now?”
I shrug as the corner of my mouth curls up. “I’m self-employed, baby. No matter what else is happening, I’m always working.”
He chuckles, nodding with understanding and turning back to walk toward the bar again, taking my hand in his. It’s such a simple and fanfareless gesture, and yet, my whole nervous system is acting like it did not get the memo.
Geez, chill. He’s just holding your hand.
“I admire your work ethic, Sophie. Now, I have an assumption, but I still feel like it’s always best to ask… What is it that you do for a living?”
I smile proudly. “I have an event planning business. Sophie Sage Events. My company actually planned my sister’s bachelorette party and wedding.”
He smiles as he carves out a spot at the bar for us, pretty effortlessly getting another couple to scoot down a bit so that we can sit together and seeing that I get seated on my stool before taking his own spot on his.
I pull his jackets off my shoulders, and he takes them both before I can even question what to do with them, snaps his fingers at someone at the front, and then, voilà! The jackets are gone.
“Does that guy work here, or is that your idea of charity work?” I can’t help but tease as Jude turns back to face the bar.
As expected, he takes it good-naturedly. “Robbie’s been here a few years, and he knows me. He’ll label those as mine and put them in the coat check.”
I hum. “So, you know a lot of people in this city, don’t you?”
His smile is bright and damn near hypnotizing, it’s so sexy. “I do.”
“Interesting.”
“That’s me,” he agrees. “Interesting.”
I roll my eyes with a snort.
“What? You don’t believe me?” He narrows his eyes playfully. “A dancer can’t know people?”
I shake my head and open my mouth to apologize for being rude when the bartender stops in front of us. “Hey, Jude,” he says first, reaching across the bar to give my unplanned date a fist bump. Jude turns to me and waggles his eyebrows, and I have to laugh.
“Hey, Gavin. I’ll have my usual, and Sophie will have…”
My teeth are the most prominent feature of my mouth as I try to look amicable while not having a freaking clue what to order. Gavin and Jude both have the good manners to ignore just how odd it is.
“Not sure what to get?” Jude asks sweetly, and I shake my head. “Mind if I choose something for you?”
“Please,” I agree with relief.
“Bring her the same as me,” he says to Gavin, to which the friendly bartender replies, “You got it,” with a nod and a smile.
Once he’s retreated from in front of us, I venture, “So…what drink am I getting? You never said what your usual is.”
“An old-fashioned,” Jude answers. “You can’t do a speakeasy without having an old-fashioned.”
I nod. “Makes sense.”
Once Gavin returns with our drinks, we spend the next half hour chatting about mostly nothing but laughing quite a bit along the way. Jude’s attitude is seriously pleasant, and as far as I can tell, it’s not an act at all.
He genuinely seems to be the kind of guy who grins all day long.
“So, what other secret tricks do you know in this city?” I ask, finishing the last of my old-fashioned, which has turned out to be surprisingly tasty for someone like me who doesn’t drink a whole lot. “Are you in a gang? Do you have a secret lair?” I narrow my eyes. “Are you Batman?”
Jude shakes his head, his throat rolling deliciously with humor at the same time. “No lair of my own. But…” he hedges, leaning closer to me. “I do know of another, even more clandestine part of New York that branches off of this place. Do you want to see it?”
“Are you kidding? Is that a real question?”
Climbing up and off his stool, he holds out his hand for mine. “Come with me.”
I follow, obviously, because he hasn’t let me down tonight so far, and because… Well, frankly, I can’t even imagine ending the night right now. Maybe Dr. Winters was right about not prejudging people—because Jude, the Magic Dancer is a hell of a lot of fun.