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12
Jen was glad she’d doubled back on messaging Holly. An hour or so in the basement and she’d calmed down enough to realise that if she didn’t find a distraction tonight she’d spend it going over and over how much she hated Alison, the temptation to dial 1471 and get her number growing by the minute.
Holly was doing a grand job of keeping her attention, even if she had no idea she was saving Jen the embarrassment of calling her ex. No good would come of it, no matter how many times she’d rehearsed it in her head.
The duck thing hadn’t been that funny, but she’d been so cute that the giggles had got the better of Jen. And the hair? It had been tough to hide a smile. Chloe’s stupidly specific observations were spot on. She never should have admitted her dream girl was Zooey Deschanel.
Jen caught herself, cottoning on to what she was confessing.Uh-oh.
‘You okay?’ Holly asked, still cutting the limes. ‘You were in your own wee world there.’
Jen smiled, her cheeks reddening. ‘Yeah, I’m good. Just wondering how many times I could readWar and Peacebefore you’re done with those limes.’
‘Hey,’ Holly chuckled, laying on the fake offence.
‘I need to finish sealing these pouches, then we can do the shots. That okay?’
‘Sounds good to me.’
Jen watched as Holly explored the room, limes finally done. Her expressions varied from intrigued to disgusted. Cocktails were such a personal thing, and Jen didn’t aim for crowd-pleasers. Try and please everyone and you’ll please none. Better to go niche and get die-hard fans.
‘My take on an old-fashioned,’ Jen said, seeing Holly inspect a miniature bottle of elderflower tonic. ‘You pair that with the pouch it’s beside. Whisky and Sauternes.’
‘Ah yes, Sauternes. A favourite.’
Jen shook her head, dispelling a laugh as she worked down the line of open pouches, sealing each one. ‘You have no idea what that is, do you?’
‘Not a scooby.’
‘Do you want to guess?’
Holly thought, holding the pouch in her hand as she studied the liquid inside. Jen fought the urge to do her own studying. With her back to her, the only thing Jen really wanted to look at was the way Holly’s skinny jeans hugged her hips.
Two hours ago you were content with being alone forever.It would seem the memo hadn’t quite made it south yet.
‘Old-fashioned is whisky, yeah?’ Holly asked, putting the pouch down and wandering over to the workbench.
‘Yep. One of the ingredients.’
‘Sauternes. Sounds French.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Clue?’
‘It’s alcohol.’
Holly snorted. ‘Thanks.’ She paced, deep in thought. ‘An alcohol that begins with. . .?’
‘W.’
The brunette narrowed her eyes before shooting them wide, as if the answer had just hit square between them. ‘Whisky. It’s another type of whisky.’
‘Close.’
‘Really?’
‘Not at all.’
