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I nod and glance at Sidnie to see if she got the reference. Oakland Grammar is, and always has been, a boys’ school. Victoria sometimes mentions it if she wants to let someone know she’s trans.
Sidnie frowns for a moment, obviously puzzled. Then the penny drops, and her expression clears. She smiles. “I have to say, I love your suit. You look amazing. It’s so hard when you’re a tall woman to get suits to fit, I find.”
Victoria grins. “It is. And by the way, your hair is absolutely divine. I adore it.”
“Thank you! It’s Mack’s fault. I was going to restrain it, but he insisted I let it go free-range.”
Victoria looks at me, her smile warm. “I love her,” she says. “Hang on to this one, Mack.”
She’s already turning away as a member of her staff calls her over to the bar and misses my exasperated look. “Oh,” she says, “I’m so sorry, please excuse me for a moment.” She moves away toward the bar.
I look down at Sidnie. She lifts her gaze to me. “What?”
I absolutely adore this woman. Lowering my head, I press my lips to hers.
It’s only a peck, but it’s enough to send my blood racing around my body, and I feel her inhale sharply, too.
When I lift my head, her eyes are wide and sparkling. “What was that for?”
“Vic’s important to me. I’m pleased you like each other.”
“She’s gorgeous. And I’m so impressed. It’s good to see women running businesses like this.”
I want to kiss her again, but the club’s busy and people are knocking into us, so in the end I just rest my hand in the middle of her back again—keen to touch her somewhere—and guide her toward the bar. “What can I get you?”
“G&T please. Diet tonic, if they have it.”
I attract the attention of the bartender, and he comes over with a smile. “Good evening, Dr. Hart.”
“Hey, Simon. Can we have two gin and diet tonics, please.”
“Any particular gin, sir?”
I look at Sidnie, who purses her lips.
“We’ll have the Scapegrace Gold, please,” I say.
“Yes, sir.” He goes off to get the bottle.
“Sorry, I just normally get whatever’s on special,” Sidnie admits to me.
“Fair enough. They’re all quite different, though. We’ll have to do a taste test.”
“Now you’re talking.”
Simon brings our drinks back and passes them to us with a smile before going off to serve someone else.
“Don’t you have to pay?” Sidnie asks.
“He’ll put them on my tab.”
She sips the G&T, her eyes dancing over the rim of the glass. “Imagine having a tab at a club like this. Ooh, that’s nice.”
It is—the taste of tangerine pops on my tongue. “It’s navy strength,” I warn her. “Fifty-seven percent.”
“Wow.” She licks her lips. “I’ve always wondered why it’s called that.”
I try not to stare at her mouth. “In the British Navy, gin and rum were stored next to the gunpowder. If the barrels split and the gin mixed with the gunpowder, it would still explode with the higher alcohol content.”
