Page 26 of Party Favors

I opted for the weaker option and let him assist me even though I didn’t need it. The surging warmth and tingling sensations were there, just as sharp and strong as they had been the first time.

“You’re really tall,” he said.

“Am I? I never noticed.” I let my hand fall. What I did notice was the fact that he was a good two inches taller than me, and I had heels on.

That made him even yummier.

“I’m guessing people say that to you a lot,” Max said with a smile.

“Pretty much every time I get up from behind a desk or a table.”

We stood there and I felt so awkward and didn’t know what to do with my hands. I clasped them in front of me. “Well, I’m going to go pay for my drink.”

He had put his hands into his front pockets. “It was very nice to have met you, Everly Aprile.”

“And you, Max Colby.”

“If you have any other questions about Monterra, you should text me.”

He was just being nice,I told my lady bits. Someone had raised him to be a gentleman. I hadn’t encountered a lot of his peculiar species since moving to the city, so I needed to be sure not to read too much into it. “Sure. Good night.”

Despite everything, I’d had fun. I was glad for that, at least. I went over to the bar and waved my hand for the bartender. He was busy mixing a drink and flirting with the cute redhead he was creating it for.

This might take a while. I wondered if Max was still here or if he’d left. I wished I’d thought to bring cash with me—then I could have just left some money on the table and made a dignified exit.

I refused to turn around and check, though. I was going to keep some of my pride tonight.

“How are you?”

A man on my right was slumped against the bar, obviously drunk. He wore an expensive suit that was going to cost an arm and a leg to dry-clean when he inevitably vomited all over it. I realized that he was addressing his question to me.

My creep radar immediately went off. It was one thing to try to see the good in people—it was another entirely to be a lamb walking into a lion’s den.

I might have been nice and optimistic, but I wasn’t stupid.

I ignored him.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he slurred with his thick British accent.

“No, thanks.” I didn’t make eye contact with him.

“Come on, just one pint.” Alcohol fumes radiated off him. “My name’s TC. What’s yours?”

If Vella were here, she’d use some colorful language as her response, but I didn’t want to engage him. I leaned against the bar, trying to see if I could catch the bartender’s attention. He was still busy.

I looked behind me, wondering if I could find my waitress. Or any waitress.

“Oi, I asked you a question. You’re being very rude.”

“I was just leaving,” I said, worried about escalating the situation with this very inebriated and possibly unstable person.

“I’m here from England. I work on Wall Street. I have a lot of money.”

A finance guy being gross? What a shock. “I’ll bet your mom is very proud.” I had a slight hint of some of Vella’s sarcasm in it, but I figured he was too drunk to tell.

“If you want to get out of here, you can come home with me. You’re not really pretty enough to date, but if you want to shag, I’m game.”

A sickly taste entered my mouth and my heart started to beat erratically. “No, thank you. I’m not interested.”

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