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“I’ll cash out table three for you, Holly. You can call it a night.”
“It was a night. I thought table three would be making the bedsprings sing an hour ago.”
“Martinis as foreplay.”
With a laugh, Holly went into the back for her coat, and Morgan poured two glasses of still water over ice. She set one in front of Miles.
“Thanks.” He didn’t look up. “You’ve hit last call, and Mr. and Mrs. Martini are still drinking so they missed the cutoff. You couldn’t let Holly close the bar.”
“The captain’s the last to leave the ship. And Mr. Martini’s married, but that’s not his wife.”
He looked up now, tiger eyes steady, curious. “How do you figure?”
“He’s wearing a ring; she’s not.”
“Could be having it sized.”
“Could. Not. She’s twelve, maybe fifteen years younger.”
“Nothing to that.”
And seeing she’d gained his interest, thought she felt the first cracks in that tough nut.
“Not by itself, no.” She glanced over at them as she sipped her water. “When they’re not involved in the numerous PDAs they’ve indulged in, he expounds and she listens, wide-eyed, like he’s the most fascinating man she’s ever met, and when she went out to the ladies’, he watched her ass. He didn’t drool, but it was close.”
“Maybe they’re still very attracted to each other.”
“He got a call when she was in the ladies’, and I’m bettingthatwas Mrs. Martini. It annoyed him. He was brief. You might say curt. Then he took a serious drink, scowled, and fiddled with his wedding ring. That’s when he ordered the second round.”
“Circumstantial evidence.”
Morgan leaned on the bar. “Are you a wagering man, Miles?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll bet you a crisp dollar bill I’m right.”
“I might not have a crisp one on me.”
“You can owe me. Anyway, he told his wife he had out-of-town business. She doesn’t believe that, so she’s called and texted several times. He’s told his new to newish side piece he’s in the middle of a difficult, protracted divorce. Maybe she believes that, maybe not, but either way, she’s getting spa treatments and a classy hotel room and that platinum cuff she keeps playing with that came out of the resort’s jewelry boutique. It was in the display window. It’s gorgeous.
“Excuse me.”
Mr. Martini signaled. Morgan put their bill in a folder.
Miles watched her deliver it, hold a quick conversation as he added a tip, signed the bill.
“Have a lovely night, Mr. and Mrs. Cabot.”
The woman giggled and snuggled up against Mr. Martini. “Oh, we’re not married. Yet.”
Morgan lifted the empties, wiped the table with the bar mop, and tucked it in her waistband.
“I owe you a dollar.”
“Yes, you do. A crisp one.” She loaded the martini glasses, thewineglass, the water glasses, the shakers, the garnish plates onto a tray, took them back into the kitchen.
When she came out, he was gone. With a shrug, she emptied the ice, wiped down the sink. She closed the register, locked the cash drawer, gave the bar and bottles a last thorough wipe down.
