Page 12 of The Temporary Fiancée
She rolls her eyes. “Nosy tonight, huh?”
I grin. If she wants to dish it out, I can take it. “Just saw you from across the room,” I say with a shrug. “You seemed like you weren’t in much of a party mood, so I thought I’d come over and chat with you.”
“Why?” She gives me a sideways glance, guarded. “Are you not in a party mood?”
“Not particularly,” I say.
She sighs, then lifts her almost-empty martini with a begrudging smile. “I’ll drink to that.” I tap my glass to hers, and she downs the rest of her drink in one swallow.
“Whoa,” I say with a laugh. “It’sthatkind of night, huh?”
“It probably shouldn’t be,” she admits. “I mean, it’s Riley’s engagement party.”
“Let me get you a drink,” I coax. “Whatever’s bugging you, it shouldn’t stop you from enjoying a nice party like this.”
“Enjoying it like you would?” She lifts a brow at me, teasing.
“Sure. Why not?” I offer her a disarming smile, and she looks at the floor, her cheeks red again. “When life gets you down, that’s when youmostneed to let loose.”
She hums as if considering, then says, “I’m good, Reed. Thanks, though.”
We stand in silence for a minute, and she stares at her empty glass. I heave a sigh and pace away from the wall, toward the open bar.
The bartender looks up as I approach. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Actually,” I say, “this might seem like a bit of a strange request, but…” I nod at the bar behind him. “Do you think there’s any way I could convince you to let me borrow an entire bottle of tequila?”
He blinks at me silently for a moment, then starts to shake his head.
Before he can say no, I grin at him, clasping my hands together. “Please? It’s a very special evening, and it’ll keep me out of your hair for a while.”
He seems to consider this. Finally, he sighs, turning toward the wall of bottles. “Silver or gold?”
“Gold,” I say. “Always gold. And can I get a couple of glasses, too?”
“You want limes?”
I nod solemnly. “Of course.”
The bartender hands me everything I requested, and I gather it all up into my arms. The situation is a little precarious, but I manage to get it all back to the table nearest Olivia without dropping or breaking anything.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asks, sounding idly curious rather than alarmed. “Is that an entire thing of?—”
“Sure is.”
“How did you get that?”
“I asked,” I say, shooting her a wink. “I’m a charming guy, you know.”
In spite of herself, she smiles, and I feel a little rush of victory—that was the goal all along. “So what’s your goal?”
“You wanna head out to the patio?” I tip my head toward the double doors a few yards away. “It’s nice out there. String lights, and all. And it’s a warm night.”
She hesitates for a moment, then concedes. “Okay, fine, fine. Couldn’t hurt.” I start to pick up the bottle and the glasses again, but she stops me, taking her own glass. “You’re gonna drop something,” she teases. “Don’t make that poor bartender regret helping you.”
“Good thinking,” I say.
We make our way outside, where it’s nice and quiet, aside from the crickets singing in the bushes around the brick patio. Lights, strung from posts above our heads, glint off of the sequins on Olivia’s dress.
