Elizabeth doesn’t say anything, but takes a sip of her drink. A smile curves her lips like a bow. “Cold and crisp.”
Jesus, that voice. It’s sweetly feminine and slightly husky, like a woman who’s just gotten up—or who’s had a screaming-hot orgasm. It tugs at my swelling dick like a lover.
She pulls the first olive from the pick with small white teeth and chews. “This is great.”
Of course. I’m a damn good bartender. And her praise causes me to feel ten feet tall.
Another group of customers flags me, and I go over to get them their beers. Drying glassware and wiping down the counter, I eavesdrop on the trio. I want to know more about Elizabeth. What does she like? Does she have a boyfriend?
Between serving other customers and dealing with servers who come by with orders, I’m not able to listen very well, although I learn the trio speaks a language other than English because they switch back and forth a couple of times, and I catch a few names as they continue to order martinis.
Justin. Ryder. Nate. Hopefully geriatric uncles or something.
“Shirley’s been so…coldly disapproving ever since I told her I was going to law school,” Vanessa is saying, this time in English, when I’m within hearing range again.
“So don’t be a lawyer, duh,” Marcella says. “It’s not like you need to work. You have your daddy’s money.”
“That right there is the problem. Daddy’s money.”
Marcella waves a hand dismissively. “Marry s
omebody rich, then.”
Elizabeth scrunches her nose, then finishes her fifth martini. “Why bother with marriage when you can make your own money?”
Marcella huffs. “Easy for you to say. Your father—”
“Oh, come on,” Vanessa interrupts, her tone sharp, like a DA addressing a particularly annoying perp. “We didn’t come here to talk about our dads.” She pulls out her phone, which has been ringing for a while. After a glance, she drops it back into her purse and asks for another martini, then downs the whole thing in one long swallow.
“Who is it? Your grandma Shirley?” Marcella asks.
“No.”
Elizabeth’s phone starts ringing. She takes it out and looks at the screen.
“Is that Ryder?” Marcella asks, her voice bright with hope.
“No. Justin.”
Sudden excitement sparks in the brunette’s green eyes. “Oooh, oooh, does he want to hang out?”
“He wants to know where Vanessa is because she’s ignoring his calls.”
Marcella looks like she’s about to burst. “So he’s in town?”
Vanessa sighs, rolling her eyes. “I told him I was busy studying for the LSAT.”
“You don’t need to study to get into law school.”
“I do if I want to get into Stanford.”
“There are other law schools.”
“Shirley vetoed the East Coast, and Mom agreed.” Vanessa sneers.
“I’m surprised your dad didn’t override them,” Elizabeth says.
“Two to one. Besides, he doesn’t care. It isn’t his life.”