Page 13 of Single Daddy To Go
“Will you allow me to buy you a drink?” he asks courteously, his eyes smoldering.
I nod, blushing, feeling awkward all over. “Yes, thank you. But I don’t know what to order. When my friends and I go out, I usually stick to beer.”
It amuses him. He lifts the corner of his mouth, only on the left side. “They do serve beer here, but I feel that you’d be making a mistake not sampling the cocktails. Theyarevery special.”
“Um, okay. Well then, what do you recommend?”
A black brow lifts again.
“Do you like sweet drinks or hard ones?”
The way he says it is like a double entendre, and I blush furiously again.
“Sweet, I guess?” is my hapless stammer. The man grins.
“Try the Paloma,” he says. “It’s one of the best things on the menu, made with fresh organic grapefruit juice.”
I would take whatever he offered me, even if it were diet soda, which I absolutely hate. “Sounds good,” I say with what I hope is a cheery smile.
Rob smiles mysteriously before calling the bartender back over, and orders me the Paloma and himself a Vesper Martini.
“What makes it a Vesper?” I ask him.
“You’re not too young to have seen a James Bond film, are you?” he asks me.
“No,” I say, incredulous. “I’m not a child. I sawSpectreandSkyfall! Plus a couple movies with Pierce Brosnan.”
He makes a noise in his throat. “If you haven’t seen Sean Connery as Bond, you haven’tseenBond. But that’s not the point. In the books, the writer Ian Fleming provides a recipe for Bond’s favorite martini. It’s not just that ‘shaken not stirred’ gibberish. The drink is a mix of gin and vodka with lillet vermouth and garnished with a lemon peel instead of an olive.”
You learn something new every day. Who knew?
“James Bond is based on books? I had no idea,” I say, absolutely amazed.
He shakes his head. “Yeah, and they’re good books too. I’ve been a huge fan since I was a boy. You should read one and see.”
I nod enthusiastically. I love reading. It’s one of my favorite pastimes. I’m kind of shy, but with a book I can be transported to so many other worlds and live so many other lives. I’ve always liked books better than movies, because I can put myself into the story and use my imagination. “I’ll have to check one out,” I say, with genuine excitement. “They sound good.”
He shrugs. “I’ll loan them to you. I have the whole set.”
The bartender returns with our drinks. I sip mine and discover that it isn’t exactly what I would term sweet. Instead, it’s a strong tequila drink with a salt rim and a kick from the grapefruit. Maybe that’s what sweet tastes like to a man whose drink of choice consists of nothing but different kinds of alcohol. Itisgood though, and it feels warm as it goes down my throat, loosening me up. I start to relax a bit more, feeling like perhaps I do belong here after all.
“So, Ally Summers,” Rob rumbles, taking a sip of his James Bond inspired cocktail. “Let’s talk about you.”
He looks at me with those penetrating blue eyes. I gasp and then look down, staring at the salt on the rim of my glass. “I don’t know that there’s much to talk about,” is my shy murmur.
“Nonsense,” he says. “Where are you from originally?”
I don’t know why my date cares about this stuff, but he seems genuinely interested and the attention feels good. I take a deep breath.
“I’m a native New Yorker, actually, but not from the city. I’m from a little town north of Manhattan called Westin. My mom still lives there but I live in Brooklyn with my roommate Haley who was my best friend in college.” I feel like I’m running my mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“What a coincidence. I’m from New York myself,” he says.
“From Manhattan?” I guess.
“Ding ding ding, we have a winner,” he teases me. “I guess you can read it all over me. I did the prep school thing, went to college and business school, blah blah blah, before I came back here to make a life for myself. My father is Preston Lockhart. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
Oh shit. I’m just not that well informed about the business world. I feel a little silly about it, but I can’t lie. “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t.”