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A girl could dream, couldn’t she?
I wasn’t sure why he was here. His suit was fresh, but it would’ve looked more at home at a business meeting than at a nightclub. I caught a glance at his watch, and it was an expensive one, but not ostentatious, and he didn’t make a point of showing it to anyone.
Was he here for the auction? It didn’t seem like it. He certainly didn’t look like the type to bid on a girl, he could have anyone in here.
And then, like it always happened with me, I began convincing myself not to get my hopes up. How many times have I fallen for a nice guy who had turned out to be just another asshole? Now, I fully expected him to deliver some cheesy pickup line. What’s a fine girl like you doing in a place like this? The oldest one in the book.
Yet, he didn’t. He was still smiling at me, as if I was the one who had called for him, and he was all ears.
It took me another moment to finally shake the spell, and I said, “So, Mr. Blue. You want to buy me a drink or something?”
He only narrowed my eyes, looking straight into mine. I felt like we were talking without saying a word. He was drumming my fingers on the bar, thinking.
“Mr. Blue?”
I laughed. “Yes, Mr. Blue in the club with a drink. Probably a good start to a murder mystery don’t you think?”
“Interesting.” He was silent for another moment and my palms started sweating. What the hell was I talking about?
Finally, he said, “I don’t think so. Do you want to buy me a drink?”
Ha! Ballsy. I bit my lip. What was my play here? If this was some trick, I had to admit I was falling for it. I was intrigued.
I laughed. “Okay, I’ll buy this round. What’s your poison?”
“Whiskey rocks. A finger.”
“Just one?” I uttered out of nowhere, feeling my cheeks turn red.
“Let’s start with one,” he winked. I wasn’t sure if he was playing along with the dirty subtext or didn’t catch it. Either way, I waved the bartender over and recited the order. When it was delivered, I handed him the glass.
“Your whiskey on the rocks, sir.”
I took my own glass, there was still some wine in it, and we toasted.
“I’ve never served drinks before. How did I do?”
He licked his lips, swallowed his first sip, then responded. “Pretty good. Minus the fingers comment.”
I laughed out loud, and he joined me. “Well, thank you for your feedback!”
“You’re welcome.” He winked at me and I felt like my skin was on fire. What was I doing? Having a drink with some random millionaire, him not knowing that I was nobody special.
“I’m Owen, Owen Hayes, and you are?”
I offered him my hand to shake it, but instead he brought it to his lips and kissed it lightly. A shiver went through my body. “Sydney.”
First name only seemed safer for some reason. I wasn’t sure what the rules were.
“Another round,” he said to the bartender. “And refill whatever the lady is having.”
“So,” he said, “what are you doing in this dump?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ugh! You were doing so well! Now we’re back to square one!”
He laughed and I wanted to leave more than ever. I wanted to leave with Owen. Let him do things to me. Break my out of this funk I had been in. We could get out of here and get drinks like normal people, without auctions and shady nightclubs…
But I had to stay on target. For Declan.
