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Didier crowded next to him. “Il y a du monde,” he said softly.
Jamie nodded. There were a lot more people than he’d expected. He scanned the crowd, looking for Rachel but not seeing her.
“Mais il y a beaucoup de filles,” Didier said, smiling at a woman who made eyes at him as she walked by. “Des belles filles.”
“C’est Erik qui cherche une fille,” he replied back to remind Didier of their goal.
The Frenchman shrugged. “But to look is free,non?”
“You’re back.”
Jamie looked up to see Chris grinning at them. He wasn’t sure whether he should be glad about that or suspicious. “Is that a problem?”
The bartender crossed his arms. “Not if you’re here for the right reasons.”
“We’re helping our friend find a nice girl.” Jamie motioned to Erik with his head.
Frowning, Chris looked at Erik, who was haltingly speaking to the two young women at least. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say so to begin with?” The man’s countenance brightened. “You can’t just stand here during the speed dating, though. You’ll have to leave or participate, and that’s going to piss Rachel off.”
It took him a moment to decipher what Chris meant, and then it all clicked into place. He’d told her he wanted to participate in the speed dating. He’d meant he wanted to talk to her—she’d thought he wanted to talk toallthe women. He shook his head. Rookie mistake. He put his fist out. “Thanks for the heads-up, mate.”
Chris bumped it. “You and I on the same page about Rach?”
He looked the man in the eye. “Completely.”
“Good.” Chris smiled at them all. “What can I get you?”
“I would like a glass of red wine,” Didier said from over his shoulder. “Erik will have a pint.”
“And you?” Chris asked Jamie.
“Whiskey.” He couldn’t think of anything better: talking to Rachel and sipping whiskey. Unless it were talking to Rachel and sipping whiskey while naked in bed with her. That’d definitely be better. Hopefully he’d get to that point, if he could get past today.
Chris nodded. “Well okay?”
He looked at shelves behind the bar. “If you were drinking whiskey, what would you have?”
“This.” Chris turned around and reached for a bottle on the top shelf, toward the back. He set it down in front of Jamie with athudof authority.
It was a bottle of MacNiven’s, the whiskey his grandda had created. His dad had helped launch and market it. He blinked at it in surprise. His grandda had passed away when Jamie was fourteen, and a few years ago his dad had relinquished the last of his duties at the company, but it was still their family whiskey.
“I had it when I was traveling through Scotland one time,” Chris said, setting a proper tumbler in front of him. “I tried a lot of different whiskeys on that trip, but none of them could compare to MacNiven’s. It’s difficult getting it stocked here, but my distributor always manages to find me a few bottles.”
Of all the gin joints in the world… “That’s my favorite as well. Do you mind if I take a picture of it?”
“Have at it.” Chris poured a finger of whiskey into the tumbler and went to get the other two drinks.
Jamie took out his mobile and rearranged the bottle and glass to capture the ray of light streaming in from one of the front windows. He took a few photos, including one where Chris was blurred in the background. That was his favorite. He’d send that to his mum and dad later.
Then he heard her laughter.
Looking up, he saw Rachel at the other end of the bar, talking to a man. He frowned at the way the man was looking at her, like she was a tasty treat. Just as he was considering going over and interrupting, Rachel patted his arm and turned away. The light lit her profile from the side, and for a moment the breath was knocked out of him she was so beautiful.
Jamie lifted his mobile and snapped the shot. He looked at it on his screen. This one was his favorite.
