Midsummer Night's Mischief Read Online Free PDF

much we miss that.”
    â€œHi ya, Keli. Soon, I promise. I’ve got some interesting acts coming up next month.”
    I looked at Rock Star, who was even hotter up close. His dark brown eyes met mine, and I felt my heart quicken in my chest. Jimi, bless his soul, didn’t miss a beat. He quickly introduced us.
    â€œKeli, meet my friend Wes. He’s my old college buddy. He just got back from New York.” Jimi clapped Wes on the shoulder briefly, then made like he had to run. “Keli, maybe you could chat with Wes for a minute. I’ve got to check on something in the kitchen.” Jimi took off before the word “Sure” was out of my mouth.
    Wes smiled at me, then indicated a nearby booth. “Have a drink with me?”
    We slid into the booth, and a waitress appeared to take our orders. For a few seconds, Wes studied me like he was trying to place my face.
    I spoke first. “Have we met before?” I asked. I was pretty sure I would never have forgotten a man who looked like this. All the same, I did feel an odd sense of having known him.
    â€œI was just trying to figure that out,” he said. “Where’d you go to school?”
    We chatted for a few minutes about college, but I had gone to undergrad back in my home state. And by the time I’d come to Edindale for law school, Wes was already in New York.
    As we continued making small talk, I found myself liking this guy more and more. I especially appreciated how he gave me his full attention. He didn’t look around the room, like some guys I’d dated.
    When the waitress brought our drinks, Wes said, “You know what? I’m starving. Think I’ll order some chicken wings, too. You want something to eat, Keli?”
    â€œOh, no thanks. I already ate.”
    â€œYou can share my wings,” he said. “If I remember right, Jimi’s kitchen is generous with their appetizers.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. “But, actually, I don’t eat meat.”
    â€œOh, you’re a vegetarian?” He seemed genuinely interested, which was a good sign. I’d had this conversation a million times before. Most meat eaters fell into one of two camps: those who found my diet a fascinating curiosity and those who found it not only weird but also somehow threatening. That second group liked to challenge my food choices as a personal affront to their own way of life.
    I nodded. “Vegan, really. Just plant-based foods for me.”
    â€œI knew some vegans in New York,” he said. “They seemed real healthy, and I admired their sense of conviction. I just think I’d starve, though, you know? I can’t see me getting enough protein from nuts and beans or whatever.”
    â€œYou might be surprised,” I said good-naturedly.
    He smiled and cocked his head at me. “How long have you been vegan?”
    â€œAbout fourteen years,” I said. “I was a teenager, still living at home. I saw an anti–animal cruelty video at school, and that was it for me. I was really impressionable, I guess. My parents about flipped. They thought I had an eating disorder or something.”
    Wes laughed with me, and I suddenly wanted to know everything there was to know about him.
    â€œSo, what were you doing in New York?” I asked. “Besides hanging out with very cool vegetarians.”
    â€œWell, for the past year and a half I worked at the Met. That was pretty awesome, being around all that art on a daily basis. But what I really—” He frowned and pulled out his cell phone. “Sorry. I gotta take this.”
    I watched as Wes put his phone to his ear and said, “Hey, what’s up?” The conversation was brief, and then Wes stood up and reached into his pocket for some money. There was no trace of his earlier joviality as he put a few dollars on the table. “I’m really sorry. I have to go.”
    And then he was gone.
    I sat there feeling