Page 45 of The Parent Trap

“I like your name.” She eyes my scotch. “Buy me a drink?”

“What’ll you have?”

A shrug. “Something sweet.”

This is where men with less game would bust out a line like,something sweet like you, huh?I don’t fall for it. I just push off the pool table and weave through the crowded bar, wait for the bartender to see me, and order her a Riesling.

Once she’s sipping and watching me line up my shot, I try to figure how long before I make the move of asking her if she wants to get out of here. Not long, judging by the way she’s watching me.

“Is that your car out front, Thai?” She leans a little too close, and she’s wearing a little too much perfume, but she’s intentionally offering me a nice look down her top.

“Sure is.” I grin at her. “You want a ride?”

Her grin is hungry. “Hell yeah I want a ride.” A lick of her lips. “I’d also like to ride in your car.”

Can’t get any more obvious than that.

Except Ricardo elbows me. “Yo, someone is staring at you over there, man.”

I play it cool. Don’t look. “Oh yeah? You know her?”

“Naw, man. But she’s giving you alook, bro.”

I sink my shot, circle the table as if to line up the next one, and scan the bar.

“You havegotto be kidding me,” I mutter.

Delia.

Here.

In a little black dress and tall heels, with her hair in an elaborate updo. Sapphires drip from her ears, gleam at her throat.

And she is indeed giving me a look, but one I can’t quite parse.

Not a glare.

Just…a look.

And she’s on the arm of a man.

Even if I was the type to be threatened, even if she and I had a thing for me to be threatened, I wouldn’t be. The guy is everything I said her type was. On the short side of medium height. Slim and sleek. Slicked-back brown hair. Wearing pleated khakis and a plaid button-down…on a date. Yeesh. Right down to the loafers.

Nice-looking.

My dude wouldn’t have a clue what to do with the sexiness that is Delia. He’d waste it—she’d be wasted on him.

Bet he couldn’t find her G-spot if she drew him a map.

I stare back, and I sense tension—from her, from myself…from Violet.

“Is that someone you know?” she asks.

I turn away from Delia, with effort. Sink my shot. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Do you need to go say hi?” Her tone tells me my shot with her rides on my answer.

Do I? What’s protocol, here? Do I bring Violet over? Do I give her the chin lift? Ignore her? Leave Violet here and say hello to Delia…and her date?