“Nightcap?” Mae asked, not waiting for my response to make herself a drink. Cosmo. Classic Mae.
“Sure,” I said, pulling out Cole’s secret stash.
“Where did that come from?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I teased.
Heading around the bar, Mae sank onto a stool, sighed and lifted her glass. “Sláinte.”
“Or as they say in America, cheers.”
We clinked glasses.
“So, boss. Can I have Friday night off?”
I rolled my eyes. “Depends. What’s it for?”
I knew exactly what it was for. Wished I could say “no” but since I wasn’t really her boss—it was the other way around, actually—that wasn’t an option.
“Girls’ night with Jules and Delaney and maybe Pia.”
“What’s on the docket?”
“As luck would have it, Jules found the perfect spot. Boots and Brews in Kitchi Falls has line dancing lessons once a month on Friday. We’re thinking of an overnighter there.”
I lost whatever else she might have said with a sudden vision of Mae in a pair of daisy dukes and cowboy boots. I took a sip of whiskey, attempting to concentrate. Somebody knew the owner of the country bar, Mazzie.
I hated everything about this plan.
“Sounds great. Just what you need.” I plastered a smile on my face.
“Speaking of needs, I saw you working the bar earlier.”
“The redhead? Nah. Not my type.”
Mae chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. I tried, and failed, not to notice as her lips delicately touched the chilled martini glass.
“That’s a blatant lie. She’s exactly your type.”
Belatedly, it occurred to me that… Mae had noticed me talking to the redhead.
“Oh, yeah?” I pushed. “Then why did I give her the witness protection line?”
“Not that one. It’s so lame. What does it even mean?”
“That—”
“Never mind, pretend I didn’t ask.”
She was so effortlessly pretty. And kind. Mathieu was the stupidest motherfucker in the world.
“Except, you did.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Smiling to deflect the actual meaning of my words, I took a sip of my drink.
Too late.
Mae’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
