Two Steves turns out to be just as adorable in person as the review I read made it out to be. I’ve arranged to meet Luke and Tomas there at six o’clock on Thursday, an hour before the bloggers are scheduled to arrive. The weather outside is grey and cloudy, and it’s been raining on and off all day, but as soon as I walk into the bar, I feel as cozy as can be. The interior is filled with warm wood, soft lighting, and farmhouse touches like a vintage tin cola sign, and even what looks to be a real wagon wheel affixed to the end of the bar.

I don’t see Tomas yet, but Luke is deep in conversation with a couple behind the bar. The guy looks quite a bit like Luke — a little younger maybe — and I have no doubt that this must be his brother. Luke’s face lights up when he sees me, and I very studiously ignore the way my heart flutters a little at his expression. He comes over right away and helps me with my coat.

“Bad news,” he says. My heart sinks.

“What?”

“Tomas isn’t going to be able to make it.”

A wave of relief comes over me. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I can handle that.

“I hope everything’s all right,” I say, as Luke takes my coat.

He nods. “Just caught up in work stuff. So it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“You and me and forty bloggers,” I point out.

“Touché,” he grins. “Come on over. I’ll introduce you to my brother and his fiancee.”

He leads me to the bar and makes introductions. As I shake hands with Jace, I catch him shoot Luke a questioning look, and I feel my cheeks color. I can’t help but wonder what Luke has said about me.

When Luke introduces me to Celia, she comes around the bar instead of shaking my hand. “I’m sorry,” she says, wrapping her arms around me. “I just have to give you a hug.”

She’s a beautiful girl, with wild black hair and sharp green eyes, but there’s a friendliness and warmth about her that immediately sets me at ease. Still, as I hug her back, I can’t help but wonder again what Luke has said to them. I try to brush it off.

“This is a beautiful spot,” I tell her. “Thank you so much for hosting us here.”

She brushes it off. “Oh, it’s no problem at all. We’d do anything for Luke. So Luke says you’ve just moved here from Paris?”

“Yes — I grew up here but I’ve lived over seas for about six or seven years now. I just moved back a couple of months ago.”

“And you ... run a clothing line, or something?”

“Yes, it’s called Bounce Couture.”

“Oh my God!” Celia claps her hand over her mouth, and then turns to glare at Luke. “You didn’t tell me it was Bounce.”

He shrugs, looking somewhat confused. “I didn’t know that meant anything.”

Celia raises her eyebrows. “Uh, yeah, it’s kind of a big deal.” I have to giggle at her enthusiasm — and at Luke’s surprised expression. “Can I get you a drink?” she asks, shaking her head and turning back to me.

“Sure — a chardonnay?”

“You got it.”

Celia returns with my drink a moment later and then starts peppering me with questions about Bounce, and I’m happy to have someone to talk to about it. Bounce has been my passion for so long that it feels natural to go on and on (and on) about it. I probably end up talking a little too long just because it feels so good to talk about it again. Plus it keeps me from having to talk to Luke. He and his brother pick up their own conversation, but every once in awhile I feel him looking over at me. Each time it happens, the heat from my gaze makes me lose my concentration.

“Sorry,” I say to Celia, shaking my head. “What was I saying?”

“Something about formalwear.”

“Oh, right.” I take a sip of my wine. “I’ve been wanting to branch into formalwear for awhile now — party dresses, bridesmaid dresses. Maybe even bridal gowns.”

Celia’s eyes light up. “Bridal gowns, you say?” she says with a grin. “If you ever need a guinea pig or a test client, I’d be more than happy to help.”

I know she’s joking, but the suggestion intrigues me. “When are you and Jace getting married?”

“This fall.”

“And you don’t have a dress yet?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve started looking around but it’s so overwhelming. So many cuts and styles and fabrics ... I don’t know.” She trails off, her expression already looking exhausted.

“Well, I’d be happy to help. I could even just pull together a few images of styles I think would work for you?”

“That would be amazing!”

“Let’s see,” I say, studying her. “You look basically like an hourglass, I think? Turn around.”

Celia holds her hands out from her sides, and turns slowly around.

“What’s going on over here?” Luke asks, sidling up to us with his beer. “Are you hitting on my brother’s fiancee?” he teases me.

“Well, can you blame me?” I tease back. “Look at her.” I’m only half-joking too — Celia’s nothing short of stunning, and the red off-the-shoulder blouse she’s wearing is sexy yet fun. Except Luke isn’t looking at Celia. He’s still staring straight at me, and his eyes have taken on a smolder that makes me suck back a huge swallow of wine.

Luke looks as if he’s about to say something, but before he can, the door to the bar swings open and a group of giggling women push through.

“I think our bloggers are starting to arrive,” I say. I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad about their timing.

“Right,” Luke says, and turns to face the women, plastering a gregarious smile on his face.

We spend the next hour or so chatting with the women — and a few men — who will be taking part in the challenge. They all have interior design or home decorating blogs, and each of them has been assigned a room in one of the lottery homes to decorate. There’ll be a contest based on public votes, which will help draw more attention to the fundraiser. The group seems enthusiastic about the project, though I can’t help but notice that Luke gets way more questions about the Loft & Barn collection than I get about Bailey Living. Though I can’t tell if that’s because they like the furniture more — or because they like Luke more.

Luke, to his credit, handles their questions and heart-eyes smoothly and easily, seeming friendly without being too encouraging.

Soon the crowd is clearing out and I’m actually starting to feel sad that the evening is over.

I pick up a mostly-eaten tray of nachos and bring it over to the bar.

“What are you doing?” Celia asks, frowning.

“Just helping you clean up.”

She flicks the bar towel at me. “That’s our job.”

“I know, but you were so nice to host us here tonight.”

She shakes her head. “It was our pleasure, honestly.” She looks at me and there’s something about her squinty gaze that makes me pause.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, what?” I barely know her but I can already tell she’s suppressing a smile.

“Nothing,” she insists again.

“Fine.” I turn to go back to the table to pick up a few more empty plates.

“It’s just that Luke talks about you.” Celia’s voice draws me back over to the bar. I can feel my heart starting to thud just a little more quickly in my chest.

“He ... talks about me?”

She nods, then glances around, as if she wants to make sure no one will hear us. “Luke doesn’t usually ... talk about women. If you know what I mean.”

“No.” I can feel my cheeks starting to flush. I look around to make sure Luke isn’t around and then lean in closer. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, looking a bit uncomfortable, but I’m too intrigued to let her off the hook. “I mean, I haven’t known Luke all that long, but I thought I had a pretty good read on what kind of guy he is. And now...”

“Now?”

She gives me a half smile. “Now I just wonder. That’s all.”

“Well, there’s nothing to wonder about.” I try to say it confidently, but I find myself nervously twisting my hands. “Luke and I are ... well, we’re barely even friends. We only know each other from the fundraiser.”

“Okay,” Celia says. She’s too quick to agree, and the way her green eyes flash tells me she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.

Something makes me turn around then, and I spot Luke talking to one of the bloggers. Kelsey, I think her name is. Kelsey Braeburn. She and Luke are cozied up in a corner, and even though I can’t hear anything they’re saying, I can pretty much read the conversation just by virtue of Kelsey’s body language. Chest out, hips cocked, and she keeps combing her blonde hair down in front of her shoulders and then flicking it back again. I can practically smell her cherry lip balm from here.

Luke must be in heaven.

I push down the uncomfortable feeling that’s growing in my chest. Not my business.

Celia must see me watching them. “That means nothing,” she says, as she wipes down the bar.

“Oh, I’m not bothered,” I say. I try to say it casually but even to me my voice sounds forced.

“Women will always flirt with Luke. I don’t see him flirting back though, do you?”

I look over again. Sure enough, Luke has his arms folded across his chest. His posture looks tense, and he keeps flicking his eyes around the room as if he’s looking for an out. When he catches me looking over, he raises his eyebrows pleadingly.

I make a snap decision.

“Excuse me,” I say to Celia, as she chuckles softly. I cross the bar, over to where Luke and Kelsey are talking.

“Bree,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Hello,” Kelsey says. I can’t help but notice that her tone is suddenly clipped.

“Can I borrow you for a second, Luke? Celia needs us to settle up a few things.”

“Of course. Nice talking to you, Kelsey.”

Kelsey, to her credit, is not letting him go that easily.

“I was just hoping I could pick your brain sometime,” she says, pursing her lips into a sexy pout. “About my designs, and about how we could maybe work together.”

The way she says ‘work together’ makes it abundantly clear that she has more in mind than brainstorming. Luke runs his hand through his hair and looks back at me. He looks uncomfortable but Kelsey refuses to take the hint. She’s still standing there, tits out, batting her eyelashes at Luke while he shifts from one foot to another. Can’t say I blame the girl for trying.

“Bree and I are both happy to offer our advice to all participants,” he says finally.

I nod, backing him up. “Yes. I’m sure we’ll see you around at the next event,” I say. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

I grab Luke’s arm and pull him over towards the bar, while Kelsey flicks her hair one more time in irritation and grabs her little pink handbag off the table.

“Persistent little thing, isn’t she?” Luke laughs.

“I would think by now you’d be used to woman throwing themselves at you.”

Luke grins. “I am. It’s saying no that I don’t have as much practice in.”

That makes my lips twitch up into a smile. I should have known.

Luke is still grinning at me, and I feel my toes curl up inside my heels. Why does he have to be so damn handsome? And why does it have to make me so damn happy that he turned down Kelsey?

“Come on,” I say, shoving a bar towel into his hands. “We should help Celia and Jace clean up.”

Between the four of us, the clean-up goes quickly, and soon we’re wiping down the last of the tables and Jace is loading all the empty glasses into the industrial-sized dishwasher in the back. It’s silly how much I’ve enjoyed hanging out with the three of them, and I feel a pang of loneliness for Margaux and my other friends in Paris. I hadn’t realized how lonely I was here in Chicago, and even though tonight has been fun, it’s also been a reminder of everything I’m missing here.

“I’m going to go wash my hands,” I announce. I don’t want the evening to end just yet, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome either.

I make my way down the hallway to the bathrooms, and let the door latch closed behind me. I take my time soaping my hands, appreciating the fact that they’ve got something nicer than your usual bubble-gum pink foaming hand wash. This one is light green and smells like mint and rosemary, and I’m sure I have Celia to thank for that.

I rinse my hands off under the tap and am just about to reach for a paper towel when the bathroom door swings open. I guess I didn’t lock it when I came in.

“Occupied,” I say. Or at least I start to. Until I see who it is that’s standing there.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Luke says, letting the door swing closed behind him.