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Luna
You use that language around Alice? Tsk tsk.
Beck
Luna
Luna
I’m busy. Talk tomorrow.
I placed my phone face down on the table and ignored it as it chimed and vibrated knowing full well I’d just annoyed the hell out of Beck.
Mission accomplished.
Monroe sank into the seat next to me, clapping her hands. “This is my favorite part of the month.”
“Same, girl. Same.”
My head bartender came out with a tray of pink drinks. “Here we have the Pink Flamingo. It's a mix of pineapple and lime.” They went on to explain where the pink color came from, grenadine, and the lime soda helped give it the feel of alcohol without the booze itself.
Next to us sat a score sheet where we would capture our thoughts. Monroe and I tasted and kept our opinions to ourselves until the end to ensure we weren't accidentally influencing the other person’s score.
We snacked on pretzels in between drinks. There'd be five of them, per usual. The mockjito made a reappearance. “I didn't mull it enough when I sent you home with the tester,” the bartender insisted.
This time they served it in a gorgeous art déco highball glass. I enjoyed buying glassware for the bar because it made the drink even more special when it came out in a unique glass.
Monroe and I sipped our respective drinks and then looked at each other. I tried to suss out if she felt the same way as me. Sometimes our telepathy was on point.
Then she broke the standoff by pointing to the glass. “That's very good. I'm not even missing the alcohol.”
Okay, so we weren’t very good at following our own rules.
I tapped my notepad with my pen. “Agreed, and that's exactly what we want to achieve with this menu.”
“Sir, the house is closed,” Niemand, one of our bouncers, said.
“She's expecting me,” the intruder replied in that deep, rumbling voice of his that sent a thrill between my thighs.
The man sauntered in hot as sin in his usual uniform and his hair freshly cut. No doubt in preparation for tomorrow's gala.
He slid into the empty seat next to Monroe and introduced himself. Monroe practically salivated over him, and who could blame her? The man was absolutely drool worthy.
Then his gaze landed on me, and I sat back in my chair as I absorbed the full force of him.
“You know why I'm here.”
“Want me to babysit Alice again?” I pretended to search for her in the empty bar.
Beck slipped his arm behind me, and I tried to suppress a shiver. “I’m working.”
He ran his fingers through my hair. “And as soon as we solidify a time for us to leave for the gala, I’ll head home and have dinner with Alice.”
That sounded cozy. Something must have shown on my face because Beck cupped my chin. “I’ll save you some spaghetti.”
I barely noticed as Monroe sipped on her drink, eyes bulging as she volleyed between the two of us.
Then the bartender arrived, clearing the table and setting down the next round. Beck finally released me from his grip, and I suddenly wished that I didn’t have a busy night ahead of me.