Sienna leaned back in her chair, the coastal breeze blowing her hair behind her shoulders. “You all can have it if you want. I don’t have to have a drink. Even though it tastesdivine.”
“No. If you ordered a mocktail, you should have one,” Emily said, trying and failing again at locating the waitress. She got up and took the cocktail off the table. “I’ll ask the bartender. Be right back.”
Emily weaved through the crowded dining area and reached the bar. Every seat was full, the bartender busy on the other side. Emily hung back, trying to figure out where she could squeeze in without infringing on someone else’s personal space. She stepped around the edge of the bar, making her way to where the bartender was, but by the time she got over there, the man had moved to where she’d been, completely oblivious to her attempts to get his attention.
Then someone at the far edge got up, so she darted over and took the seat, setting the cocktail in front of her. But when she sat down, she accidentally bumped the back of the person beside her. The man twisted around from the friend he was talking to, and she sucked in a breath of surprise.
“Hi,” she said, staring Patrick in the face.
He looked over her head and without a hello, he asked, “Where are your friends?”
She pointed toward the crowd outside.
The lines between his eyes deepened.
“The waitress got Sienna’s drink wrong. I thought it would be faster to get her another one at the bar, but I’m second-guessing that decision now.”
Patrick eyed the cocktail and pursed his lips. He leaned on the bar. “Alex.”
The bartender turned around and came over.
“This lady needs a drink,” he said.
Emily explained the situation, and the bartender nodded, then took two more orders, lined up silver cups on the bar, and began flipping bottles of liquor and syrup upside down, filling each one. He pulled a third glass and filled it with ice.
“Thank you,” Emily said to Patrick.
“No problem.” He was relaxed, his shoulders loose, that storm in him calmed.
“You gonna introduce me?” his friend said.
“Mark, this is Emily. She’s a…client.”
Mark gave her a once-over. “Was this tonight’s client—the one you were talking about?”
The tranquil demeanor he’d had left in a hurry. “Yeah,” he said under his breath.
Mark’s eyebrows bobbed once before Patrick blocked Emily’s view of him. “So the drink. That all you need?”
“What did you tell Mark about me?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“I just mentioned the misunderstanding with the schedule and how I ended up cooking for you and your friends.”
Normally, she’d have believed that answer, but his voice was low, directed at her, as if he didn’t want Mark to hear. But she knew better than to think he’d go into a lengthy conversation now. In fact, he looked as if he couldn’t wait for her to leave.
The bartender set the drink in front of her. “No charge. And you can keep the cocktail as well.”
She thanked him, took the drinks, and hopped off the barstool. After lingering a second to see if Patrick would turn around, she said to his back, “I’ll see you later.”
He awkwardly glanced over his shoulder. “See ya.”
Emily opened her mouth to tell him thank you again, but he’d already turned toward Mark and resumed his conversation.
When she got back to the table, she handed Sienna her mocktail and told her and Blair what they’d missed, as well as Patrick’s cryptic answer regarding his mention of her.
“Was he talking bad about you to his friend?” Sienna asked, scanning the bar for him. “Jerk.”
“He’s so hard to read. Maybe it was as simple as what he said,” Emily offered. Given Sienna’s personality, she’d march over there and ask. “Don’t let whatever he said impact our night.”
