Page 9 of Christmas Rings

“Rif told me you’re a kindergarten teacher. In addition to your waitressing job.”

“That’s correct.”

He wrapped his towel around his neck. “Would you care for a drink? Something to take the chill off?”

“I’m not much of a drinker,” she said.

“Not even when offered the finest vodka ever made?” He shed his coat, revealing his expensively tailored blue suit. After folding his overcoat in two and placing it on the seat, he shrugged out of his suit jacket. The same neat folding and tucking away hinted at an orderly, tidy man. She liked that in a person.

“I love your modesty,” she said.

He laughed and reached for the bottle. “I’ll add some flavored sparkling water to it if you like.” The muscles of his thighs pressed against the fabric of his pants.

She swallowed, trying to focus. “I didn’t say I wanted any.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Sorry, you’re correct. I’m usually a better listener. You’re so pretty you make me nervous.”

She could say the same about him. But she wouldn’t. He probably heard the same line from a lot of women. This was a man who had it all—good looks, wealth, obvious intelligence. She didn’t need to feed his ego by letting him know how attracted she was to him.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to have a little,” he said, as he poured a small amount into a tumbler, then added ice.

She watched as he brought the glass to his mouth and took a sip. “I guess I’ll have a little.”

“Great.” He opened one of the flavored waters and poured it into a glass, followed by a small amount of vodka.

She took it from him and stared into the rising bubbles before indulging in a dainty sip. All she could taste was the flavored water. “Not bad.”

“Thank you. Family recipe that goes back to the bootleg days.”

“Really?”

“I’m afraid so. I come from a line of criminals.” He grinned.

“Not now, though?”

He laughed. “No, we’re legit since prohibition ended. Our distillery has been making hand-crafted vodka and gin since before it was faddish to do so.”

“And you work with your father?” she asked.

“That’s right. He’s grooming me to take over in a few years.” For the first time, his sparkling eyes dimmed. Only for a second though, as if he didn’t want her to see any crack in his positive exterior.

The limo sped up. They must have entered the freeway. This time of night there wasn’t a lot of traffic.

“Is that what you want?” she asked. “To take over the family business?”

His eyes lifted toward the ceiling before coming back to rest on her. “I don’t think about it much. It’s what’s expected of me.”

“What do you study in school to ready you for running a gin joint?”

“It’s technically called a distillery.” He smiled and sipped his drink. “Business. That’s my degree anyway.”

“From UW?”

“No. Harvard.”

She almost spit out her drink. “Harvard. Well, that decides it. You’re too smart for me.”

“I suspect it’s the other way around. My father and grandfather went to Harvard. They’re also major contributors to the school. I can’t say I got in on merit only.”

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